Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1899-06-24
Misshapen Piles That Are Both Sub.
lime and Ridiculous.
NO HINT OF ORIGIN OR PURPOSE
Granite Bull Of Tanore is Kept
Amounted With Grease.
VITALITY OF HINDOOISM


nursery. NOW II Is vivid with long grass
now tufted with cotton, then dark green
with STOPPING palm heads or black with
mrs, anon brown with fallow, blue with
lakes and lsgoons. black with cloud-shad.
owing pools stained with white water lilies.
Presently red hills break out of the woods
then sink again to sweeping pastures dot
| ted only with water hoists and naked
herdsmen Then in the placid landscape
you are almost startled by the sight of
monuments of religion. A tall Quadrangle
lar pyramid, its course lined with rude
statues. a couple of half-shaped human
| hgures. ten times human size a ring Of co.
lossal hobby horses sitting IN their
haunches like tea party in wonderland
| they burst grotesquely out Of meadow and
thlcket standing all alone with the soil and
| the trees No worshipers no sign Of
| human life near them no hint Of their
| origin or purpose-till you almost wonder
| whether they are artificial at all and not
| the world VI
| These are the outposts of the great pago-
| uas OF southern India-those sublime mon
| slIosiues Whlch scarce any European ever
| sees, which most have never heard OF bur
| which afford perhaps the strongest testi-
| mony In all India at once TO the vitality
1 alLu me ihcomprehensibility of Hindoosm.
| The religion that inspired such toilsome de-
| Votio1 must be one of the greatest forces
IN history, yet the western mind can de-
| tect neither any touch of art in the monu-
| menus themselves nor any strain Of beauty
| in the creed. Both command your resnart
| by their size-that which is SO vast so en-
| curing, can hardly, you tell yourself bs
T., zen And still you can see nothing
IN the temples but misshapen piles of un.
couthhess, nothing in the religion but un-
earthly superstitions, half-meaningless and
| half-foul.
| Oriental IncOngruity.
Inc nearest approach to a symmetrical
building is the great pagoda of Taniore.
Long before you near the gate you see its
pyramidal tower shooting free above crook
| ed streets and slanting roofs Presently
you see the lower similar towers. so far
| from the first that you would never call
them part of the same building In reality
| they are the outer and inner gateways-
sopura Is their proper name-built in mas
slVe diminishing courses, garnished with
carving and statuary. From a distance
the massive solemnity of their outlines the
stone lace of their decorations strike Won
with an overwhelming assertion of rich
majesty. But you are in India and YOU
walt for the inevitable incongruity IL
comes at the very gate The entrance is
not under the stately gopure, but under a
screen ana scanolding of lath and plaster
daubed with yellow and green grotesque-
ness, men with lotus eyes looking out of
their temples, horses with heads like
snakes and kings tall as elephants.
There is to be great festival in a day or
two, explains the suave Brahmin: there
fore, the gopuras are boarded up with pic-
lures beside which the tapestries of our
pavement artists are truth and beauty.
You walk through scaffold poles into a
great square round the great tower, and
with reverence they show you that colossal
monolith, the great bull of Tanj0re. / wish
L could show you a picture of him, for
words are unequal to him. In size he
stands, OF rather sits, thirty-eight hands
two. His material is black granite, but 1t
is kept so piously anointed with grease
that he looks as If he were made of toffee
In attitude he suggests a roast hare, and
he wears a half-smug, half-coquettish eN-
preston, as if he hoped that nobody would
kiss him.
Visit to the Shrines.
From this wonder you pass to the shrines
of the chief gods. The unbeliever may not
enter, but you stand at the door while
man goes along the darkness with a fam
beau. The light falls silk and tinsel,
and by faith you can divine seated Image
at the end. Next you are at the foot Of the
great tower, and the ridiculous has become
the sublime again. Every story is lined
with serene-faced gods and goddesses,
dwindling rank above rank, a ladder Of DEL
ties that seems to climb halfway up TO
heaven.
Then the Brahmin shows you a stone bull
seated on the ground, like younger broth
er OF the great one. 1T is in existence" he
says, throwing out his words in groups dis
passionately, as though somebody else were
with hint is in-ssSste n show ie v the he
dimensions-of four other bulls--which are
In exlstence-up there" You lay your head
back between your shoulder blades and up
there, at the very top, among gods so
small that you wonder whether they are
gods OF, or only panels or pillars, are four
more little brothers of the hare-shaped tot
fee-teXtured monster below.
The keynote of Hindoo Art.
Reduplication is the keynote of the Hin
doc art. The same bulls everywhere. the
same gods everywhere, and all round the
cIoistered outer wall scores on scores of
granite, fat-dripping, fiower-crowned en-
blems, so crudely shapeless that you forget
their gross significance, but all absolutely
alike. Next he leads you aside to piles and
piles of what look like overgrown gaudily
painted childrens toys. This is an exact
of the tower, reduced and imitat-
ed in wood. 1t is all in pieces but al the
festival the parts are fitted together and
carried on Every god sculptured on
the pyramid is represented in a section of
this model, waiting to be fitted into his
place. Only what is richly mellow in TINT
ed stone is garishly tawdry in kings yellow
and red lead to the infantile.
Next a little shrine that is a net of the
most delicate carving-stone as light ana
Fantastic as wood. Pillar and panel mold
ing and cornice, lattice and imagery All
tapering gracefully till they become minia-
lures at the summit-h is a gem of ex-
quisite taste and patient labor. And the
very next minute you are again among
naming red and yellow dragon tigers and
duck peacocks, and the one is just as holy
and just as beautiful to its worshipers as
the other
Sublime and Ridiculous.
That is ALL except to write your name in
the visitors book. As 1 went in to sign
noticed a band of musicians standing at the
ioor and thought no more of It, But as
ny pen touched the paper suddenly reedy
pipes and discordant fiddles and heavy tam
ans began to play God Save the Queen
4 huge chaplet OF muslin and tinsel, like a
Christmas tree stocking. was
;ast about my neck, betel and altar OF
ose were brought up in silver vessels ana
lowers and fruits silver trays. The
'agoda keeps its character to the end-the
compliment was sublime, and l was ridicu-
Gus.
Yet the Temple of Tanjore is the most
nipple and orderly of all its kind. Visit
he great pagoda Of Madura and you will
ONE out mazed with HindooIsm. All its
Mysteries and incongruities, its lofty meta
hysics and its unabashed lewdness, seem
D brood over its dark chambers and granny