^/\nanda
Coomaraswamy
SELE C T E D LET T ER S OF
Ananda K. Coomaraswamy
Edited by
A l v in M o o r e , J r .
and
R am a P o o na m bulam C oom arasw am y
IN DIRA G A N D H I N A TIO N A L C EN TR E FOR TH E ARTS
O X FO R D U N IV ERSITY PRESS
DELHI BOMBAY CALCUTTA MADRAS
19 8 8
ILLUSTRATIONS
1. Ananda K. Coomaraswamy
at 52 years
frontispiece
facing page
2. “Progress” by Denis Tegetmcier, in
Eric Gill, Unholy Trinity, London, Dent,
1942
3. Ananda K. Coomaraswamy at 58 years
4. An example o f Coom araswam y’s
manuscripts—letter to Eric Gill
5. Coom araswam y’s study in his home at
Needham, Massachusetts
6 . A room in N orm an Chapel,
Coom araswam y’s home at Broad
Cam pton, Gloucestershire, about. 1908
7. Albrecht Diirer’s ‘Virgin on the Crescent’
from his Life o f the Virgin (1511)
8 . Ananda K. Coomaraswamy at 70 years
32
108
208
258
328
362
440
FOREWORD
In the wake o f Ananda Coom araswam y’s extensive writings,
volumes o f accolades have come forth in praise o f his enormous
erudition. But here in these letters for the first time we sec the
man writing intimately about himself; not in an autobio
graphical sense, which he detested, considering such portrai
ture “a vulgar catering to illegitimate curiosity” (p 25), “a
rather ghoulish and despicable trade” (p 25). This attitude was
with him, moreover, “not a matter of ‘modesty’, but one o f
principle” (p 25). His writing of himself was rather in the sense
of establishing a personal contact with each correspondent
through the painstaking effort o f getting a questioner to see the
why and wherefore o f his thought processes. Reading these
letters is like looking over his shoulder and watching how his
perceptions and ideas flow.
Eric Gill said it all when he wrote to the Doctor: “You hit
bloody straight, bloody hard, and bloody often.” For
Coomaraswamy was uncompromisingly honest; thus in a letter
to Albert Schweitzer on this missionary’s Christianity and the
Religions o f the World : “ [I] would like to let you know that I
regard it as a fundamentally dishonest w ork.”
Uncompromisingly charitable, as in a six-page letter to a
psychiatrist: “Your letter. . .brought tears to my eyes. Yours is
a personal instance of the whole modern world of impover
ished reality. . . You caught the very sickness you were
treating. . . You did not shake off the effluvium from your
fingers after laying on your hands.” Pages of appropriate
counsel follow.
And uncompromisingly generous, instanced for example in
his long answers to letters from the Gandhian Richard Gregg
who was seeking clarification on such matters as realism and
nominalism, being and knowing, knowledge and opinion,
being and becoming, rcincarnationist theories, and the question
° f “psychic residues” .
Rama Coomaraswamy had first considered calling this
collection of his father’s correspondence Letters from a Hindu to
His Christian Friends. But although the young Ananda received
the investiture o f the Sacred Thread in Ceylon in 1897, he was
cducatcd in England and later lived as a Westerner, and was
Platonist and a Medievalist as much as a Vedantist. And his
correspondents were with few exceptions not religious by
vocation but academicians, albeit of Christian heritage. He
situated his own position as “ a follower o f the Philosophia
Perennis, or if required to be more specific, a Vcdandn.”
We sec from these letters that Coomaraswamy was totally
realistic in his assessment of Eastern and Western values. To
Professor F. S. C. N orthrup, he says that he tells Western
inquirers: “Why seek wisdom in India? The value of the
Eastern tradition for you is not that of a difference, but that it
can remind you o f what you have forgotten,” adding that “the
notion o f a com mon humanity is not enough for peace; what is
needed is our common divinity.” Elsewhere he writes that
“ East and West have a common problem .” And he complains
to the German art historian, Herman Goetz, that the great
majority o f Indian students in the West arc really “disorganized
barbarians” and “ cultural illiterates.” “The modern young
Indian (with exceptions) is in no position to meet the really
cultured and spiritual European.” Again to N orthrup, he says,
“ I am still fully convinced that the metaphysics of East and
West are essentially the same until the time o f the Western
deviation from the common norm s,” when Western thought
shifted (ca 1300) from realism to nominalism.
N ow he writes to the New English Weekly, “the ‘civilization’
that men are supposed to be fighting for is already a museum
piece.” Elsewhere: “The magnitude of our means and the
multiplicity o f our ideas arc in fact the measure o f our
decadence.” And near the close of his life, in his address
(included here) on “the Renaissance of Indian Culture” , given
at Harvard on August 15, 1947, he says: “our problem is not so
much one o f the rebirth of an Indian eulture, as it is one of
preserving what remains o f it. This culture is valid for us not so
much bccausc it is Indian as because it is culture.” In a letter
addressing the need for a realistic ground of understanding, he
writes that he can “sec no basis for such a common understand
ing other than that of the common universe of discourse of the
Philosophia Perennis, which was the lingua franca of all cultures
before the ‘confusion of tongues’.” And he reiterates time and
again in his letters the necessity for people to turn to the
traditional authorities of our age in order to get their
metaphysical bearings: men like Frithjof Schuon, Rene Guenon
and Marco Pallis.
As foremost heir to Medieval wisdom the Catholic Church
in Coom araswam y’s eyes bore a priceless legacy coupled with
an enormous responsibility; and although continually inviting
Christians to share with him in the rediscovery o f this treasure,
the Doctor was with few exceptions thwarted by their
incapacity for adequate response. Conversion, they exclaimed,
not reciprocal comprehension, was the only way to salvation.
“ Please do not pray that I may become a Christian,” replied
Coomaraswamy to a nun’s entreaties; “pray only that I may
know God better every day.” And he foresaw what was
coming to the Church when he wrote to another Catholic:
“The humanisation, ie, secularisation of scripture accompanies
the humanisation of C hrist.”
His attitude on an esoteric aspect o f Christianity is disclosed
in his words to Eric Gill about a “wonderful Mary legend” he
has read, saying that “there is a Vedic parallel too, where
Wisdom is said to reveal her very body to some. Perhaps you
can print this legend someday, and I could write a few words of
introduction. On the other hand, perhaps the world does not
deserve such things nowadays!”
Regarding his own path, Coomaraswamy wrote, “ I fully
hold that labore est orare and do regard my work as a vocation.”
But “when I go to India,” he said in a letter to Marco Pallis, “it
will be to drop writing . . . my object in ‘retiring’ being to
verify what I already ‘know ’.” Meanwhile, in his seventieth
year he wrote, “the Bhagavad Gita and Upanishads are daily
reading for m e.”
These letters convey a constant tone of the D octor’s own
self-effacement. He puts forth his principles unflaggingly,
while never putting forth himself, saying he is only an
exponent for the ideas o f others: “ [I] try to say nothing that can
properly be attributed to me individually.” To the traditional
Catholic, Bernard Kelley, he wrote: “It can only be said that
the mystic is acting ‘selfishly’ when there really remains in him
a ‘se lf.” The word idiot, he reminds another correspondent,
means “virtually ‘one who thinks for him self.” And in another
place: “Satan was the first to think of himself as a genius.”
All this touches on the axis around which Coomaraswamy’s
later exposition revolved, namely, the postulate of the two
selves or “ minds”— duo sunt in homine—and its ineluctable
corollary, on the necessity for self-naughting. With incredible
thoroughness he pursued parallels from Western and Eastern
sources, to Sankara’s presentation of Advaita Vedanta, the
doctrine o f monism or non-duality. And Coom araswam y’s
intransigence regarding the sole true reality of our Higher
Self—“the O ne and Only Transm igrant” , St Paul’s “not I, but
[the] Christ [that] livcth in me”— was compounded by his
insistence on the infallibility of immutable archetype and myth
over mutable accident and history, to the point even of
permitting him self an expression of doubt concerning the
historicity o f Christ and the Buddha. In order to situate the
paradox o f this tendency to excess at the expense of fact, we
have to remind ourselves that Coomaraswamy found himself
confronting a blind generation with timeless truths, in an age of
“impoverished reality” wherein most people no longer “see”
what is beyond their senses. In a world where religion for the
multitude has become equated with moral precepts on the level
o f “Be good, dear child” , the metaphysician felt the need to
repost with the thunder o f ultimates on the level o f “Every
thing will perish save God’s Countenance” (Q u ’ran xxviii, 88).
To reply that the Doctor could better have struck a happy
medium in these matters is to ask that Coomaraswamy not be
Coomaraswamy.
He admits the Plotinian concept of “distinction without
difference” in the Noumenal Sphere where “all souls are one” ,
yet in actual exegesis he virtually reduces the human soul to a
“process” o f becoming, without final reality. In part his
emphasis on this point was to refute the popular notion of
reincarnation, currently a dogm a in India and one
particularly vexing to him as it lends an exaggerated im port
ance to the accidental ego o f this man so-and-so, and also
because his insistence on the fallacy o f the belief invited
criticism from erudite Hindus who otherwise admired his
writings.
It may be well to state here that reincarnationism derives
from misconceptions of basic Eastern teachings having to do
with the Round o f Existence or samsara, this being the
transmigration o f souls to other states of existence insofar as the
impurities o f ignorance have not been wholly eradicated in
them, that purification which alone leads to enlightenment and
final deliverance from the meshes of existence and becoming.
But this teaching has to be situated in terms of the limitless
modalities and immensities of cosmic time and space (in which
“God does not repeat H im self’), whereas reincarnationism
credulously reduces transmigration through the multiple states
o f the being to a kind o f garden-variety genealogy played out
on the scale o f this w orld’s stage.
To a question about a prominent Indian put by S. Durai Raja
Singam, the man who was to become the indefatigable
compiler o f Coomaraswamy memorabilia, the Doctor replied
in 1946: [He] is a saint, not an intellectual giant; I am neither but
I do say that those whose authority I rely on when I speak have
often been both.” People may think what they like about
whether he was cither, neither, or the two concurrently, but it
cannot be denied that he certainly vehicled an aura o f both.
He was fond o f quoting St Paul to the effect that God has
never left Him self w ithout a witness. In the traditional
patrimony that Coomaraswamy has handed on we have an
eloquent testimony to this.
W hitall
N. P erry
PREFACE
It is both a great privilege and an extraordinary experience to
have selected, and along with Alvin Moore, to have edited the
letters of Ananda Coomaraswamy. One wonders, in the face of
his enormous literary output, how he was able to carry on such
a fruitful correspondence. The num ber o f letters probably runs
to several thousand and one would hope, that over the course
of time many more will turn up. These can, almost without
exception, be divided into four categories: those dealing with
inquiries about works of art— either requests for identification,
evaluation or possible purchase by the Boston Museum; those
responding to or dealing with philosophical or metaphysical
issues; those written to the N ew England Weekly; and lastly a
handful o f brief personal notes to his mother, wife, or children.
There are various reasons why the letters of famous men are
published. In the case of some, they reflect the times they lived
in. Others give insights into the personal life of the author, or
clues as to what induced him to enter the public forum. Still
others are examples o f literary art—so called “belle lettrcs” .
Those o f D r Coomaraswamy are none of these. Indeed, what is
extraordinary about them is that they contain nothing personal,
even when written to close friends and associates. He had said
once, in response to a request for an autobiography, that
“portraiture o f human beings is aswarga”, and that such an
attitude was a matter, not of modesty, but o f principle. His
letters reflect this attitude.
I have said that there are several thousand letters. U nfortu
nately, not all of these have been collected or collated. Many
have undoubtedly been lost. Thus for example, his own files
show perhaps a hundred letters from Marco Pallis. U nfortu
nately, none o f his to Mr. Pallis survive as the latter
consistently destroyed all mail after reading. Again, there are a
targe num ber o f letters to him from Rene Guenon. However,
the Guenon archives have revealed or at least, produced none
from him. Several European and American libraries have letters
from him dispersed in collections of other notables such as
Yeates or Sorokin. Still other letters are archived in private
collections such as T. S. Eliott. Hopefully one response to the
publication of these carefully selected examples will be a more
complete collation, with hitherto unknown examples becom
ing available.
The selection process was fairly simple. All the available
letters— cither originals or carbon copies— were read and
classified as to major topics of discussion. These sub groups
were then weeded out so as to avoid excessive length and
repetition. The end result is some 400 letters which can truly be
said to be characteristic.
The remarkable thing about these letters is that each o f them
is a sort o f “mini-essay” put forth in relatively easy language.
Despite this, they cover almost every major line o f thought that
is developed in his published works. Those who would seek an
introduction to the writings o f Ananda Coomaraswamy could
do no better than to start with this book.
It is both fitting and wonderful, that the Indira Gandhi
National Centre for the Arts should select this work as the first
publication in its planned collected works of Ananda Coomara
swamy. If he was a universalist in principle, he was above all an
Indian in his origins and ways of thinking. It had been his plan to
return to India where he intended to continue his works, produce
a translation o f the Upanishads, and then take Sanyasa. God
willed otherwise and only his ashes were returned to the land he
loved. Hcnce it is—one says it again—both fitting and wonderful
that India should undertake to make available to the world, not
only his letters, but the entire corpus of his works.
A CKNOW LEDGEM EN TS
Wc wish to acknowledge the co-opcration o f all who have
assisted in making this volume possible by providing copies o f
Dr Coom arasw am y’s letters which have been included in this
collection. We thank the University o f Minnesota for permis
sion to use the lines from Ray Livingston’s The Traditional
Theory o f Literature which arc placed in exergue to this volume;
the heirs o f Devin-Adair publishers for permission to quote in
the Introduction the paragraph from Eric Gill’s Autobiography.
O ur thanks are due also to Sri Keshavram N . Icngar o f
Bangalore, India; M r and Mrs Eric H. Hansen, Emory
Univeristy, Atlanta, Georgia; D r Rene Imelee, West Georgia
College, Carrollton, Georgia; and to the librarians and staff
members o f the Em ory University library and the library o f
West Georgia College. And certainly not least, we thank our
respective spouses for their encouragement, patience and
practical help.
A l v in M o o r e , J r .
R am a P oona m bulam C oom arasw am y
In the late half o f the nineteenth century and the early twentieth
century scholars from all parts o f the world were drawn to the
Asian heritage. Some excavated, others brought to light
primary textual material, and a third group dwelled upon
fundamental concepts, identified perennial sources, and created
bridges o f communication by juxtaposing diverse traditions.
They were the pathfinders: they drew attention to the unity and
wholeness o f life behind manifestation and process. Cutting
across sectarian concerns, religious dogma and conventional
notions o f the spiritual East and materialist West, o f monothe
ism and polytheism, they were responsible for laying the
foundations o f a new approach to Indian and Asian art. Their
work is o f contem porary relevance and validity for the East and
the West. Restless and unsatisfied with fragmentation, there is a
search for roots and comprehension, perception and experience
o f the whole. Seminars on renewal, regeneration and begin
nings have been held. The time is ripe to bring the work of
these early torch bearers to the attention o f future generations.
The name o f Ananda Kentish Coomaraswamy is foremost
among these pathfinders— for the expanse o f his grasp, the
depth o f his insights, and for their validity today.
To fulfil the need for renewed search for the whole, as also to
stimulate further work with this free and catholic approach
which is not imprisoned in the walls o f ideology, the Kala Kosa
Division o f the IGNCA has initiated a program me o f publica
tion o f works o f critical scholarship, reprints and translations.
The criterion o f identification is the value o f the w ork for its
cross-cultural perception, multi-disciplinary approach and in
accessibility for reasons o f language or on account o f being out
o f print.
The Collected Works o f A. K. Coomaraswamy, thematical
ly rearranged with the author’s own revisions, is central to the
IG N C A ’s third program m e in its division o f Textual Research
and Publication, Kala Kosa. The present volume of the Selected
Letters o f Ananda K. Coomaraswamy commences this series.
The IGNCA is grateful to D r Rama P. Coomaraswamy for
agreeing to allow the IGNCA to republish the collected works,
and for his generosity in relinquishing claims on royalties.
Alvin Moore, an old associate of Coomaraswamy, has pains
takingly edited the present volume along with D r Rama P.
Coomaraswamy. We are grateful to both of them. M r Keshav
Ram Iengar has to be thanked for his life-time devotion, his
interest, and his assistance in proof-reading and preparing the
index.
We also thank M r Jyotish Dutta Gupta for rendering
invaluable help in the production, M r K. L. Khosa for
designing the jacket and M r K. V. Srinivasan for ably assisting
in this project.
K apila V atsy ay an
I n d ir a G a n d h i N a t i o n a l C e ntre F o r T he A rts
IN T R O D U C T IO N
It seems fitting to introduce these letters selected from the
extensive correspondence o f Ananda Kentish Coom araswam y
with a paragraph from his close friend Eric Gill, Catholic,
artisan, artist and author o f distinguished reputation. Gill
wrote, in his Autobiography :
. . . T here was one person, to w hom I think William
Rothcnstein introduced me, w hom I m ight not have met
otherwise and for whose influence I am deeply grateful. I
mean the philosopher and theologian Ananda Coomara
swam y. O thers have w ritten the truth about life and religion
and m an’s w ork. O thers have written good clear English.
O thers have had the gift o f w itty expression. Others have
understood the metaphysics o f Christianity, and others have
understood the metaphysics o f Hinduism and Buddhism.
Others have understood the true significance o f erotic
drawings and sculptures. O thers have seen the relationships
of the good, the true and the beautiful. Others have had
apparently unlim ited learning. Others have loved; others
have been kind and generous. But I know of no one else in
whom all these gifts and all these powers have been
combined. I dare not confess m yself his disciple; that would
only embarass him. I can only say that no other living writer
has written the truth in matters o f art and life and religion
and piety with such wisdom and understanding.
This citation gives a very discerning insight into the character
of the mature Coom araswam y. But one may, quite properly,
want to know som ething more of the life and circumstances of
this son o f East and West who corresponded so widely and who
left so many letters that are deemed w orthy o f publication even
after so many years. M oreover, what could a non-Christian
have to say that could be o f any possible interest to the serious
Christian?
The w riter o f these letters was born in 1877 in Colombo,
Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), o f a Tamil father and an English
mother. The father, Sir M utu Coomaraswamy, was a particu
larly able member o f an outstanding Tamil, Hindu family that
had been long settled in Ceylon but which had retained its ties,
especially religious ties, with India. Sir M utu was the first
Asian and the first Hindu to be called to the bar in Britain, in
1863, and a man whose personal presence and achievement
gained for him an entrance into upper social circles in England.
He counted Disraeli among his friends, eg, and Disraeli even
took him as model for one o f his fictional characters. The
m other was Elizabeth Clay Beeby, o f a Kent family prominent
in the India and Ceylon trade. The couple had been married in
1875 by no less an ecclesiastic than the Archbishop of
Canterbury. This was certainly no casual miscegenation, such
as had been all too com mon and even encouraged in colonial
India; on the contrary, it was the purposeful union o f two
strong minds and independent spirits. But an interracial
marriage is not likely to be easy; and, over a hundred years ago,
the couple must have faced distinct difficulties both among the
Victorian English and in the East among orthodox Hindus.
The young Ananda, however, was to combine in him self the
better qualities o f both races. He was himself to become ritually
one o f the twice-born among the Hindus, and he was to grow
into an apostle o f the traditional East (now no longer
identifiable geographically) to men hungering and thirsting for
spiritual and intellectual sustenance in the meaningless wastes
o f the modern world. Remarkably, and only to a slightly lesser
degree, he was an apostle of the traditional West as well; for he
was intimately familiar with the corpus o f Medieval Christian
philosophy, theology, literature and art, as well as with
Platonism and Neoplatonism.
In 1877, after two years in Ceylon and the birth o f her son,
Lady Coomaraswamy, not yet thirty, returned to England for a
visit. Sir M utu was to follow but, tragically, died on the very
day he was to have sailed from Colombo. It was thus that the
young m other and her child remained in Britain. The young
Ananda was educated in England, first at home, then at a public
school (Wycliffe, in Gloucestershire), and finally at the Uni
versity o f London which he entered at eighteen. He graduated
from the latter in 1900 with' honors in botony (gardening was a
lifelong interest) and geology. Later, his university was to
award him its doctorate in science (1906) for his work in the
mineralogy o f Ceylon; for between 1902 and 1906 the young
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