An Independent Review of Paul Courtright's book on Ganesa - Chapter 17 part 3

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Inventing an Incestuous Rape (Devibhagavata Purana 7.30)

Courtright narrates two tales in order to elaborate upon the erotic power of the paarijaata (Coral Tree) flower. He cites the first from supposedly related accounts in the Brahmavaivarta Purana 3.20.41–62 and the Devibhagavata Purana (DBP) 9.403–23. In this tale, Sage Durvasa presents a beautiful paarijaata flower, with the ability to make its possessor powerful and wealthy, to Indra. The Sage says that the powers of the flower are manifest only when it is placed on his head by its possessor with reverence. When the Sage arrives, Indra is busy making love with a heavenly nymph named Rambha. When the Sage leaves, Indra continues his lovemaking and throws the flower on the head of Airavata, his elephant mount. According to Courtright, Airavata immediately transforms into ‘a form of Vishnu’, abandons Indra and runs into the forest, whereas Indra is completely deprived of his power and glory. When the Durvasa learns that Indra has insulted and has defiled his holy gift to him, the sage curses Indra and he loses all his powers.

Courtright then continues his analysis:

This story also concerns the rivalry between Indra and Siva, who here takes the form of  Durvasas. The powers of the sage make short work of Indra’s wealth and sexual prowess. The parijata flower is an emblem of riches and erotic power, one of the flowers from the five coral trees that arose out of the churning of the ocean at the beginning of the cosmic cycle. In another story the goddess gave this flower to Durvasas who in turn gave it to Daksa, who became so aroused by the scent of the flower that he made love to his daughter Sati ‘in the manner of a mere beast’. This shameful action drove her to burn her body, that is, commit sati, and provoked Siva to such a rage that he beheaded Daksa 7.30).

The author thus links the two stories through the supposed common motif of the paarijaata flower. However, when the relevant passages of the Devibhagavata Purana are checked, there is no mention of the paarijaata flower at all. Verse 7.30.28 of the text reads,

tatah prasannaa devesii nijakanthagataam srajam

bhramabhradamarasamsaktaam makarandamadaakulaam |

The verse merely means that pleased with the Muni, the Devi gives him the fragrant garland that is on her neck, attracting clusters of bumblebees with its fragrant juice (makaranda). Now the word “makaranda” is typically used for the juice of the jasmine flower, which is also very fragrant and attracts the bees, wasps, insects, and bumblebees that can be seen in the gardens of India. No other verse in the chapter indicates that the paarijaata flowers were in her garland, and so the artificial linkage between the two stories by Courtright is brought about by an unjustifiable insertion of ‘paarijaata’ flowers into the text by him. (For the story about Daksha’s incestuous behavior as alleged by Courtright, please read page 216. Chapter 17)

Now, the Devibhagavata Purana is a Shakta sectarian text extolling the Devi primarily, and secondarily Shiva, her consort. It narrates this entire episode in a distinctive manner. After Sage Durvasa receives the divine garland from the Devi, he reverentially places it on his head and

proceeds to meet Daksha. In Daksha’s home the Sage offers his homage and Daksha asks for the garland. Sage Durvasa, thinking that Daksha himself is a devotee of the Devi, gives the garland to him. The text then says (Devibhagavata Purana 7.30.34cd–35ab):

grhiitaa sirasaa maalaa munina nijamandire

sthaapitaa sayanam yatra dampatyoratisundaram

(Receiving the garland given by the Sage on his head, in his own chamber, Daksa then places it reverentially on the beautiful bed prepared for the couple.)

It is very important to pay attention to the word ‘dampati’ in this verse because the word normally stands for husband and wife. It seems implausible that he would have placed the garland on a bed meant for Sati and her husband Shiva, whose presence is not even mentioned so far, although verse 23 does mention her betrothal with Shiva – an incident that is clearly not contemporaneous with the yajna of Daksha. It is more likely that it was the bed meant for Daksha and his wife, Sati’s mother. There is no evidence in the text that the bed was meant to be shared by Daksha and his married daughter!

What happens then is very evil (verse 35cd),

pasukarmarato raatrau maalaagandhena moditah |

(Aroused by the fragrance of the garland, Daksa was engrossed in animal-acts during the night.)

There is no hint what these bestial acts were, but it is reasonable to conclude that Daksha engaged in sex, and perhaps other activities such as imbibing liquor. The text certainly does not say that, “he made love to his daughter Sati in the manner of a mere animal” as Courtright claims (Courtright, p.37).

But why is indulgence in sex by Daksha considered a pashukarma? First, he has defiled the divine garland given by the Devi (and remember that the Purana is a Shakta Purana, dedicated to the Devi) by allowing it to act as an aphrodisiac. Second, he is in the midst of a yajna, during which the yajmaana (sacrificer) and his wife are to remain celibate. Sex during the period of a yajna defiles the rite. And the third reason is clarified by the following verse (Devibhagavata Purana 7.30.36):

abhavatsa mahipaalastena paapena sankare

sive dveshamatirhaato devyaam satyaam tatha nrpa |

(O Great King! Owing to (or under the influence of) that sin (of sexual intercourse), Daksa spoke evil of Shiva, and he was filled with an intense enmity for Shiva as well as for his daughter Devi Sati.)

So we come to the standard narrative wherein Daksha speaks ill of Shiva and is filled with hatred for him (and here also for Sati, who is but an incarnation of the Devi).

The beginning verses of chapter 7.30 narrate how Daksha was a pious king who had pleased Devi by intense austerities in the Himalayas. When the Devi appears before him, he requested her to take birth in his family. The Devi granted Daksha his wish, and she was born in his family as Sati. The Daksha, a completely transformed man, insulted the same Devi he had worshipped in the past. He became filled with enmity for Sati, who was not only his own daughter, but also the incarnation of the Devi. Therefore Sati can no longer stay in the body that is born of her sinful father Daksha. The text continues (Devibhagavata Purana 7.30.37):

rajanastenaaparaadhena tajjanyo deha eva ca

satyaa yogaagninaa dagdhah satidharmadidrksayaa |

(O King! Because of Daksa’s crime, Sati immolated her body, that was generated from him (Daksa),with her yogic fire, so as to preserve the dignity of the eternal dharma of devotion to her

husband.)

The crime of Daksha was that he had spoken ill of Shiva and that he was filled with enmity towards him and his own daughter under the influence of sin. The text then states that the shakti of Sati returned to the Himalayas (7.30.38ab), the abode of Devi where Daksha had meditated and had her darsana in the first place. The narrative continues in the standard manner—Shiva was infuriated with the death of Sati and he destroyed the yajna (7.43). Daksha was beheaded and his head was replaced with that of a goat.

So what we see here is a variant of the standard theme in which Sati commits suicide because she cannot bear the insult of her husband by her father.And since the text is a Shakta text, it adds its own details that Daksha had defiled the gift of Devi, and was filled with enmity towards her own essence in his daughter Sati. The text certainly does not say: “This shameful action [of Daksha’s incestuous rape of Sati—reviewers’ addition] drove her to burn her body”. This

‘scholarly’ version is but Courtright’s own invention. The manner in which Courtright gives sexual kink to Puranic passages reminds us of how his gurubandhu Jeffrey Kripal had interpreted the Kathamrita to make Ramakrishna Paramahamsa into a homosexual pedophile. (For more on Wendy Doniger’s mentorship and influence in Courtright’s work, please read page 219, chapter 17)

The Remover of Obstacles or the Creator of Obstacles?

Ganesha is also known as Vighneshvara that Courtright translates as, ‘the Lord of obstacles’. The name is generally understood to mean ‘remover of obstacles’ by lay Hindus. Hindu tradition itself, however, associates some ambiguity with the name. In some Hindu texts, Ganesha is actually stated to be the creator of obstacles. Courtright cites a version of the Skanda Purana (VII.1.38.1–34), according to which the heavens become crowded with people when even sinners start attaining salvation by visiting the temple of Somanatha. The gods then become alarmed and approach Shiva for a way out of this quagmire. He is unable to help them and therefore Parvati creates Ganesha out of the dirt of her body. She remarks that Ganesha will place obstacles before (sinful or undeserving) men so that they will get deluded, and will go to the hell instead of to Somanatha.

The notion that Ganesha creates obstacles without a just cause is merely meant to demonstrate his power, as well as the fact that he does not allow sinners to take short cuts to reach the heavens—this is what the above story from the Skanda Purana also demonstrates. (For more on this, please read page 220, chapter 17)

Courtright too is aware of Shiva Purana 2.4.15–18 in which Parvati declares that Ganesha shall receive the worship of all and remove all obstacles. Yet, how could a deity, whose morality Doniger has judged as ambivalent, and whose father Shiva is labeled by Courtright as a notorious womanizer, be depicted in such an exalted manner? Thus Ganesha is presented as the Lord of Obstacles, turning him into a malevolent deity. Apart from adorning the cover of Courtright’s book, this label is later used as a tool to psychoanalyze Ganesha’s supposed sexual ambivalence. Courtright would portray Ganesha as a jealous deity who inflicts severe punishments on those who dare ignore his immanent manifestations.

In the course of this discussion, Courtright compares Ganesha to St. Peter, who is the keeper of the gate to the heaven as per Biblical texts. The author is quick to point out one difference though: Ganesha is comparable to the devious St. Peter of folklore, not to the sober and austere St. Peter of the New Testament and early Christian hagiography. It becomes imperative for Courtright to differentiate between folklore and literature to present St. Peter in a positive light, but such scruples are dispensed with when it comes to using unreliable anecdotes to taint the Hindu deity Ganesha.

Referring to the story of the Skanda Purana, Courtright suggests that “the pattern of Ganesa’s ambivalent behavior at the threshold links him with the actions of demons . . . ” This is a rather poor choice of words, and an unfair demonizing of the deity. Hindus interpret the deity predominantly as an embodiment of auspiciousness, benevolence and the like.218 He is invoked at the beginning of all endeavors, religious or secular, because He is the remover of obstacles. (For more on this, please read page 221, chapter 17)

The Puranas and Conspiracy Theories

Courtright revisits the theme of the problem of the Vedic origins of Ganesha. It is true that there are not many unambiguous references to Ganesha in the ancient Vedic texts, in contrast with the exalted manner in which he is referred to in the texts of classical Hinduism, the Puranas. To explain this discrepancy, Courtright comes up with a conspiracy theory. He argues that the Puranas attempt to cover-up his demon ancestry and are uncomfortably aware of the discrepancy between the malevolent, obstacle-creating powers of Vinayaka and the positive, obstacle-removing actions of Ganesha. According to him, the Puranas seek to resolve this contradiction by various mechanisms such as “clever use of false etymologies for the name ‘Vinayaka’”.

Courtright says:

In one case, when Siva saw, much to his surprise, that Ganesa appeared out of the mixture of his and Parvati’s sweat and bathwater, he exclaimed to her, ‘A son has been born to you without [vinà] a husband [nàyakena]; therefore this son shall be named Vinàyaka’ (Vàm P 28.71–72). This etymological sleight of hand obscures the association of Vinàyaka with “those who lead astray” which is its etymologically prior meaning, and connects it with another meaning of nàyaka as leader or husband.

The Purana has really not indulged in any subterfuge because in the second half of this very verse (28.72cd), Lord Shiva clearly says that Ganesha will create thousands of obstacles for devatas and others (esha vighnasahasraani suradiinaam karishyati). The meaning of the word vinaayaka given by the Purana is definitely possible grammatically, without any strain at all. The appropriate question pertaining to historiography is whether the meaning ‘creator of obstacles’ for ‘vinaayaka’ was in vogue or the norm at the time the Vamana Purana was compiled. If not, then we cannot accuse the author of the Purana with a proverbial sleight of hand.

It may be noted that creation of such ad-hoc etymologies, mythologies, and cosmologies is seen very frequently in Hindu texts such as the Brahmanas, the Upanishads, and the Puranas, amongst other genres. These ad-hoc etymologies serve various purposes at hand, such as providing impromptu explanations or justification for a ritual act, or thematic completion of the narrative. One need not come up with conspiracy theories, as Courtright has done, to describe this phenomenon.

Maternal Aggression of Parvati against Ganesha—Dubious Passage of Varaha Purana

Courtright writes:

           

The theme of maternal aggression in the myths of Ganesa is more veiled; but it is there—as we have seen in the myth where Parvati curses Ganesa to be ugly and as we shall see in the myth where she places him at the doorway to be cut down to size by Siva . . .

We are not aware of any Puranic text where Parvati curses Ganesha to be ugly. Courtright himself admits that this story is not found in any printed edition of the Varaha Purana. He, however, attributes the above text to a Christian missionary traveler to India, and to an illinformed author writing from the first half of 1800s who may have relied himself on the missionary’s work for this piece of information.

Who is older: Ganesha or Skanda?

Hindu tradition is not unanimous on who is the elder brother of the two. Courtright, however, states that Ganesha is the younger brother in a somewhat absolute manner.

The iconography is clear enough; Ganesa is a child, a baby. So he remains, never growing into the full youthful stage of his elder brother Skanda or the maturity of his father.

Later (p.123), he contradicts himself and states that in most areas, Skanda is considered the younger brother. So we see that even incorrect and inconsistent facts do not prevent Courtright from inventing psychological analyses. The point is that if a matter is not settled within the Hindu tradition itself, then why does Courtright select one version alone to retrofit his preconceived thesis?

Imaginary Blackie in the Matsya Purana

A recent review of his book makes the following additional remarks, which we reproduce below for the benefit of the reader. Further while dealing with the mythology he states, “Once in jest

Siva called Parvati ‘Blackie’ [Kali] because her skin looked black like a serpent. She was offended . . . and so went away to practice asceticism to obtain a golden skin. Viraka begged her to take him with her . . . But she told him to stay at Siva’s door . . . for Siva is a notorious womanizer. The references given to the passage quoted are Skp. 1.2.27–29; cf. Matsya P. 154.542–78. See also Kramrisch 1981, pp. 364–65; O’Flaherty 1975, pp. 252–61.

The reviewer then criticizes Courtright in the following words: The MatsyaP. does not contain the word Kali or any word similar to womanizer. The Skanda Purana has the word krsna for black complexioned one. Similarly what Parvati tells Viraka about Siva is gaurangilampato hyesah…1(2).28.8 ‘enamoured of woman of white complexion’) (as is translated by Tagore), and not ‘a notorious womanizer’ as the author says.

The Cigar Now Becomes a Phallus

The principal cause of the current controversy over Courtright’s book is his abuse of Freudian theories to impart perverse sexual meanings to the otherwise innocuous aspects of the narratives on the deity found in Hindu texts. Courtright’s defense, however, is that his detractors have

taken his quotes out of context. We find this explanation disingenuous because even outside Chapter III, where most of these sexual interpretations are found, one can find other instances where he has hinted at similar aspects. The previous sections of our review clearly demonstrate how Courtright has exaggerated and even has invented sexuality in several Puranic passages.

We have seen in our brief review of the textual analysis in the book how Courtright manages to kink the narratives of the Puranas by giving them numerous sexual twists. Completely unrelated

projectiles, missiles, electric poles, water pipes, tree trunks, elephant trunks, stone pillars, walking sticks, obelisks, spider legs and lotus stems were reduced to ‘cigars’ (to put it facetiously). Now Courtright asks us to see phalluses in all these ‘cigars’. Indeed, such a wide variety of choices that we are given makes his text very ‘insightful’, ‘thoughtful’, ‘wonderful’, ‘scholarly’, ‘objective’, ‘nuanced’, ‘sensitive’, ‘sympathetic’ etc., to use the buzz words of academic Hinduism studies. (For more on this, please read page 225, chapter 17)

One wonders how Wendy’s Children would interpret, using psychoanalysis as a façade, the episode of Parashurama beheading his mother Renuka at his father’s behest. Would they argue that it reveals a possible homosexual relationship between Sage Jamadagni233 and his son, and suggest that the beheading symbolizes the removal of the unwanted mother? Would he liken Renuka’s head to the sexual organ and equate her beheading with genital mutilation?

One may argue that Courtright is imposing Western interpretations on an Indian deity and so there is bound to be some bias. Courtright argues, however, that his methodology is ‘universal’ or ‘objective’ in the following words.

The myth of Ganesa parallels aspects of human experience beyond the restricted world of ritual initiation. It is a tale of family relations and reflects the unconscious ambivalences of early forgotten childhood experience. One need not be an ideological Freudian to see the fruitfulness of raising psychoanalytical questions about a myth that involves such a violent and complex account of father/son relations. The extent to which the myth of Ganesa explores these relations and the sensibilities that attend them, it reaches beyond its Indian context and takes on universal meaning and appeal.

We invite the reader to read our extracts from Courtright’s psychoanalysis and decide for him or herself whether there is anything worthwhile in this perverse verbal-jugglery. It appears that to give a ‘universal meaning and appeal’ to the persona of Ganesha, he started with his unflattering introduction of his protagonist Ganesha, of whom he says: “He appears tainted, trivial, perhaps even vulgar . . . In short Ganesa is too ordinary”. He wrote: “Repulsion at the form of the deity with an elephant head and suspicion that there may be more going on than meets the (Western) eye, is a good starting point for our inquiry . . . ” Ganesha’s mythology is also declared as: “an elaborate rationalization for an invented deity”. Now that really sounds universally appealing and meaningful!

Courtright Invents a ‘Limp Phallus’—Misrepresenting Vedanta and Tantra

Perhaps the most offensive statements made by Courtright relate to his description of Ganesha’s trunk as a limp phallus. Let us reproduce them here, for the information of our readers.

The elephant trunk, which perpetually hangs limp, and broken tusk are reminiscent of Siva’s own phallic character, but as these phallic analogs are either excessive or in the wrong place, they pose no threat to Siva’s power and his erotic claims on Parvati.

That the tradition or the texts never attach any sexual connotation to this legend doesn’t stop Courtright from thus trashing Ganesha. (For more on this, please read page 226, 227 and 228, chapter 17)

While we do not see any mask on Ganesha’s torso, we do get a hint of peek-a-boo pornography in Courtright’s ‘analyses’. We would let the readers decide if it is worth psychoanalyzing Courtright himself, based on his own statements in the book.          

           

Read chapter 17 part 3 from page 215 to 228

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An Independent Review of Paul Courtright's book on Ganesa - Chapter 17 part 2

Go to Chapter 17 part 1

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Elephant Mythology and Omission of Important Texts

Courtright initiates the discussion by first devoting a section to the symbolism of the elephant in Indian culture. The treatment is rather uncertain and he surprisingly omits the mention of texts specifically referring to elephants—the Gajasastra or the Hastyayurveda. The omission is unfortunate because Courtright primarily relies on, amongst other texts, the Puranas, when some of them (e.g., Agni Purana) actually refer to the authority of Palakapya Muni, the author of the Hastyayurveda. Courtright enumerates a number of metaphors for elephants in Indian culture but omits two very important attributes of the creature for which they are especially well respected, their profound memory, and their longevity. The elephant is also counted as one of the nine types of wealth or treasures (navanidhi) in the Hindu tradition. A discussion on all these would have enriched Courtright’s study considerably, because these themes are very important in how Hindus perceive this noble creature.

Even more detrimental to the quality of his study is the scarce use (if not a total omission) of the two Puranas that specifically deal with Ganesha the Mudgala Purana and Ganesha Purana. Courtright mentions editions of both of them in his bibliography, but practically ignores the former, and uses the latter very rarely. Even when he does, most of the citations of the Ganesha Purana appear to be taken from secondary studies on the text, not from the original text itself. The scanty use of these important traditional texts detracts from the comprehensiveness and objectivity of his analysis. We shall give a few examples in this review, showing how data from these two Puranas invalidates some of the speculations of Courtright.

The elephant is also considered a noble animal, and a symbol of devotion (bhakti) via the story of Gajendramoska in Bhagavata Purana, skandha VIII, chapter 204 and other texts. Courtright ignores these aspects of elephant mythology here, dealing with it later in relation to Ganesha where it really does not belong. In his zeal to force-fit this story into the model of tension between asceticism and eroticism, he interprets it in a very inconsistent and illogical manner.

Instead of discussing these ways in which Hindus look at the creature, Courtright says:

Elephant trunk and serpent share certain undeniable characteristics and carry associations of force and power, both political and sexual.

We are not told why this association is ‘undeniable’. This baseless assertion would serve as his launching pad for declaring elsewhere:

The elephant trunk, which perpetually hangs limp, and the broken tusk are reminiscent of Siva’s own phallic character, but as these phallic analogs are either excessive or in the wrong place, they pose no threat to Siva’s power and his erotic claims on Parvati.

Courtright says that an elephant, even if it were male, cannot be assigned any definitive sex because its movement is often compared to the graceful movement of a woman, and its temple, like a woman’s breasts, give forth a different but no less desirable fluid. If this hypothesis sounds unreasonable, then it is outsmarted by the ensuing inference that since Ganesha is an elephant-headed god, his gender too must remain less than precisely articulated. An illogical premise invariably leads to ridiculous conclusions, and Courtright doesn’t fail to disappoint on this count. He concludes that Ganesha’s head symbolizes phallic masculinity and feminine grace.

Though Courtright uses several dubious, peripheral, and regional myths of doubtful veracity and non-verifiable antiquity to construct his thesis (we shall refer to some of these below), he practically leaves out the Tantric texts. This omission is again unfortunate, because these texts clearly distinguish between the deity’s trunk and the phallus (whereas Courtright equates the deity’s trunk to a limp phallus) and also describe clearly the functionality of these two organs. But then, incorporation of data from the Tantras would have dealt a deathblow to his ‘celibate-eunuch-limp phallus’ thesis on Ganesha. If one chooses data from Sanskrit texts in the piecemeal manner that Courtright does, any thesis can be ‘proven’ from them.

Misdating Puranic Texts

In the sole appendix to his book, the author claims that the Sri Ganapati Atharvasirsha Upanishad probably belongs to the sixteenth or seventeenth century. He assigns no reason for this late date, something that other scholars have also noted and have found inconsistent with their own views. Elsewhere, Courtright claims that the Mudgala Purana should be dated between the fourteenth and the seventeenth century, but again assigns no reasons. However, on page 214 of the book, Courtright dates the Purana from fourteenth to sixteenth centuries. This would mean that the Atharvasirsha Upanishad is roughly contemporaneous or even later than the Mudgala Purana. However, the Mudgala Purana (2.31.12; 2.72.5, etc.) clearly mentions the Ganapati Atharvasiras text, and therefore should be sufficiently later than the Upanishad, contrary to what Courtright implies.

To ascertain whether Courtright has shown sufficient fidelity to the Puranic texts, we crosschecked his descriptions of the story of Ganesha with the original texts of the Puranas. To illustrate our findings, we chose only a few of these texts below, for the sake of brevity. We have also chosen a text from the Buddhacharita that is misinterpreted by Courtright.

A Beheading by the Compassionate One (Buddhacarita)

In Ashvaghosha’s Buddhacarita, there occurs a story in which Devadatta sent a mad elephant to kill Bhagavan Buddha. However, when the elephant approached the Buddha, the latter’s spiritual power tamed the creature. According to the text, as quoted by Courtright, the Buddha then stroked the head of the elephant. A reader would normally interpret the Buddha ‘stroking the head’ of the tamed elephant as an act of blessing or benevolence, of compassion and love. Courtright, however, suggests, “. . . his hand strokes the head in what may be a faint echo of a gesture of decapitation”. (For more on this, please read page 204, chapter 17)

Eroticization of Gajalakshmi in Vishnu Purana:

Courtright correctly identifies a passage from the Vishnu Purana 1.9.103 in which, when Devi Lakshmi emerges during the churning of the Ocean and the River Ganga, other sacred rivers appear at the site. The celestial elephants then pour water from these sacred rivers on her with golden vessels. A few pages later he transforms this into a sexually titillating narrative:

The male attributes of the elephant are so obvious as to need no comment. Not only the trunk but the tusk has phallic associations in some of the Ganesa stories. The myth of the elephant guardians anointing Lakshmi by spraying water over her seems the fullest expression of male fertility surrounding female fecundity. As O’Flaherty has shown, moreover, rain tends to be associated with male seed in the Indian tradition, whereas rivers appear as symbolic expressions of the feminine aspect of water . . .

Per conventions of Hindu tradition, Lakshmi and Ganesha stand in relation to each other as mother and son. Courtright’s erotic explanation in effect transforms the innocuous description of the Puranas into a tale of incest.

The text of the Vishnu Purana clearly states that the elephants take the waters of feminized rivers. So it is surprising that, according to Courtright and Doniger O’Flaherty, the waters from feminine rivers would be transformed suddenly into virile semen after the elephants pour them over Lakshmi. What we are trying to suggest is that the ‘analysis’ by Courtright is nothing but his own perverse imagination. We are in fact surprised why he failed to see the connection between ‘hiranyam’ (=gold, light, brightness) and ‘retas’ (=seed, semen) in the Hindu tradition164 to further argue that the feminine river water changed its sex to masculine semen in the gold-pitchers used by the elephants to pour river waters over Lakshmi! (For more on this, please read page 205, chapter 17)

Inventing Mankind from the Divine Arse (The Linga Purana and The Bhagavata Purana)

Courtright claims:

Some Puranic sources maintain that demons and humans have come from the divine rectum (BhP 2.6.8; LP 1.70.199; cf. O’Flaherty 1976, p. 140).”

This claim of Courtright and Wendy Doniger does not stand to scrutiny. Neither the Linga Purana nor the Bhagavata Purana derives mankind from the ‘divine rectum’. (For more on the relevant passages from the Linga Purana and the Bhagavata Purana, please read page 206 and 207, chapter 17)

Misinterpretations of the Kurma Purana:

The Dropping of Shiva’s Phallus:

Following a 1975 book by Wendy Doniger, Courtright interprets a tale in Kurma Purana 2.37 in the following words:

The variant of the beheading tale introduces the act of self mutilation by which Ganesa tears out his own tusk and holds it like a yogin’s staff, like his father holds the trident. The gesture is reminiscent of the time his father broke off his own phallus when he saw it was no longer of use except to create progeny (KP 2.37; O’Flaherty 1975, pp. 137–141). This act of self-mutilation makes Ganesa more like his father.

The claim that, “[Siva] broke off his own phallus when he saw it was no longer of use except to create progeny” is a contrived interpretation of Kurma Purana 2.37. (For more on the story, please read page 207 and 208, chapter 17)

The Beheading of Daksha:

In another case of misinterpretation of the same text, Courtright says:

He [Siva] attacks Daksa’s sacrifice, beheading him and turning his head into the sacrificial offering, thus completing the rite that he had originally set out to destroy (KP 1.14). (For more on the story, please read page 208, chapter 17)

The Kurma Purana version of the narrative does not mention any beheading of Daksha by Lord Shiva, contrary to Courtright’s assertion.

The Vamana Purana on the Birth of Ganesa and ‘Sexual Fluids’

Describing a version of the story of the birth of the deity, Courtright states:

The first type of story is represented by the accounts of Ganesa arising out of the sexual fluids of Siva and Parvati after their bath, but outside Parvati’s body (Vamana Purana 28.64–66) . . .

Unfortunately, the bibliography section of Courtright’s book shows that he used the non-critical edition of the Purana. We compared this edition with the critical edition of Vamana Purana. The relevant text (Vamana Purana 28.65) clearly reads:

snaatastasya tatoadhastaat sthithah sa malapuurushah

umasvedam bhavasvedam jalamrtisamanvitam

The text explicitly says that the drops of sweat of Uma (=Parvati) and Bhava (=Shiva) fell on moist earth and from this combination sprang Ganesha (verse 66). There is no explicit mention of ‘sexual fluids’, which is characteristic of Courtright’s Freudian analysis.

Later in the chapter too, he terms their sweat as, ‘fluids of their lovemaking’ and as ‘sexual fluids’. Courtright may argue that various erotic Indian texts do mention passionate lovemaking causing the lovers to sweat. This textual passage, however, directly stresses the asexual birth of the deity. Thus, it states that when the intercourse of Siva and Parvati was interrupted by the machinations of the gods, Shiva discharged his semen as an oblation to Agni (Vamana Purana 28.50), and after Ganesha is born, Shiva names him as Vinaayaka because Parvati gave birth to him without the help of a naayaka or husband (Vamana Purana 28.71–72ab). Hence, to see the birth of Ganesha from the ‘sexual fluids’ of Parvati and Shiva is a bit farfetched. The text certainly does not say so or hint at it. Rather, the text seems to glorify Shiva and Parvati by suggesting that even the sweat and dirt of their bodies is so potent that the mere combination of the two can result in the birth of a great deity such as Ganesha. Courtright’s interpretations merely seek to amplify (if not invent altogether) the sexual connotations of these sacred stories.

Another recent review of Courtright’s book clarifies our objection in the following words:

The authors or Compilers of the Puranas are very frank and open. When they mean such sexual symbolism they state it openly. When they want to say that a person or even a deity is too much interested in sex they frankly say so and some times punish them also, as in the case of Indra and Brahma . . . It is advisable, therefore, not to read too much between the lines. As far as possible, such attempts of trying to find relevance of the ancient texts in connection with the modern phenomena, may it be science or the Freudian principles, should be avoided by scholars. (For more on this, please read page 210, chapter 17)

Misrepresentation of the Gajendramoksha Episode (Bhagavata Purana, Skandha VIII):

The Gajendramoksha narrative, occurring in the eighth book (skandha) of the Bhagavata Purana (BhP), is a beautiful tale of devotion and divine grace that continues to inspire millions of Hindus even to this day. The central theme of the narrative is that no measure of worldly power and happiness can save us in the time of dire calamity, only God can. Here is how Courtright looks at the story:

Once, the king of the elephants, along with his wives and children came to a splendid garden at the foot of the mountain that was surrounded by an ocean like the ocean of milk. With musk fluid oozing from his forehead, with bees swarming around it, the elephant plunged into the ocean to cool himself. He sprayed water over the females and the females and the young ones bathed and drank. Then a mighty alligator, which had become angry at this intrusion into the ocean, seized hold of the elephant’s foot and held it fast in his jaws. When the wives of the elephant king saw that he was being dragged further and further into the ocean, they tried in vain to pull him back out. As the alligator and the elephant struggled with one another, the elephant became increasingly weaker while the alligator grew stronger. When he saw that he could not free himself from the trap of alligator’s jaws, the elephant called out to Vishnu for refuge. When Vishnu saw the elephant’s plight, he came there and pulled the elephant and the alligator out of the water. He transformed the alligator back into Huhu, the celestial gandharva who had been cursed by the sage Devala [Narada] because he had been sporting in the water with some women when Devala wanted to bathe. When Huhu pulled on Devala’s leg he was cursed to take the form of an alligator, only to be rescued from it by seizing hold of the leg of an elephant. (BhP 8.204)

Apparently the address ‘BhP 8.204’ is a typographical error in place of BhP 8.2–4. After summarizing a longish story, Courtright then interprets the tale in the following sexualized manner:

In this myth of conflict between the alligator and the elephant, we see some similarities to the myths of Airavata and Durvasas. At the conclusion of the myth, we learn that the alligator is really a disguise of an erotic gandharva, who had been cursed by the ascetic Devala for touching him while he was bathing, much as the flying elephants had been cursed by the sage Dirghatapas when they brushed against the tree under which he was sitting. By transforming the gandharva Huhu into an alligator, the ascetic reverses their roles, for now the alligator is the one whose watery territory is invaded by the elephant. His biting the leg of the elephant echoes the theme of beheading, which we have seen at work in other myths. The conflict between the alligator and the elephant surrounded by his entourage of cows—like the conflicts between the sage and the gandharva, between Siva and Gajasura, and between Durvasas and Indra—draws on the important theme in Hindu mythology of the tension between the powers of eroticism and asceticism. The tension between the alligator and the race elephant cannot be resolved, and so they both edge their way to destruction. At this desperate moment the myth turns to the solution of bhakti . . .

In this manner, Courtright goes on and on with his racy language, bringing disparate, unrelated facts picked up selectively, and then forces them to fit together artificially and unconvincingly into models of ‘beheading’, ‘tension between the powers of eroticism and asceticism’ and so on. How does he do this exactly?

First, he enhances the sexual connotations of the passage in Bhagavata Purana. Though his summary is fairly short, considering that the text extends over 92 verses, Courtright does not refrain from amplifying the aspects that suit his theory. An example is the use of the words, ‘with musk fluid oozing from his forehead’. The original text reads (Bhagavata Purana 8.2.23–24) (For the original text, please read 212 and 213, chapter 17)

When Courtright emphasizes the incidental ‘erotic’ aspects of the inspiring tale of devotion, there is a ‘sexual’ purpose behind it. Why? Courtright compares the scene of Gajendra’s struggle with the alligator with the episodes of the sage and the gandharva, Shiva and Gajasura, and Durvasas and Indra to force-fit the Gajendramoksha narrative into the schemes of beheading and the ‘tension between the powers of asceticism and eroticism’. In effect, Courtright has taken words from a one-half a verse out of ninety-two verses of the narrative to weave his thesis of tension between eroticism and asceticism! (For more on this, please read page 213 and 214, chapter 17)

The episode of Indra and Durvasa is also not analogous to the Gajendramoksha tale. Here, Indra indirectly insults Durvasa while engrossed in sexual acts with a heavenly nymph. Indra was having sex with an apsaraa when the Sage visits him. Indra hurriedly offers his respect whereupon the Sage gifts him a paarijaata flower with the ability to bestow power, glory, and wealth to the owner if it is worn with respect on the head. Indra, however, throws the flower on his elephant Airavata’s head as soon as the Sage leaves so that he can promptly resume his amorous activities with the nymph. In doing so, Indra insulted the Sage Durvasa whereupon the latter cursed him. Gajendra was not insulting any ascetic when the alligator caught his leg. The alligator was not an ascetic either. So where are the parallels that Courtright claims?

Likewise, the third episode of Gajasura cited by Courtright is also not related to Gajendramoksha through the model of tension between asceticism and eroticism, despite Courtright’s contrary claims. In Puranic narratives, Devi Durga had killed Gajasura’s father Mahisha. To avenge his father’s death, Gajasura practised asceticism and was granted a boon by Brahma so that no one overcome by lust would be able to defeat the asura. Invincible, he became arrogant and sinful and conquered the gods. A battle ensued between Shiva and Gajasura in which the latter was killed. Here too, while Gajendra and Gajasura were both elephants and intoxicated with their power, the alligator was not exactly the same ascetic Lord Shiva. Thus, there is only a superficial and limited semblance between the tales of Gajendramoksha and Gajasura.

The entire book of Courtright is similarly filled with irrelevant parallels, loose or non-existent methodologies, and superficial comparisons drawn by considering selective data while ignoring or explaining away divergent facts. In ‘scholarly’ parlance, this ‘methodology’ is called Freudian free association.

Read chapter 17 part 2 from page 201 to 215

Pdf of the book is available for free download here.

Go to Chapter 17 part 3