Just a place to jot down my musings.

Friday, December 16, 2016

Information and Sāṅkhya

Alfred Borgmann’s Holding On To Reality opens with the provocative words:
Information can illuminate, transform, or displace reality. When failing health or a power failure deprives you of information, the world closes in on you; it becomes dark and oppressive. Without information about reality, without reports and records, the reach of experience quickly trails off into the shadows of ignorance and forgetfulness.
This is a very interesting and provocative passage, but I picked it up because of its uncanny resemblance to a famous verse from Īśvarakṛṣṇa’s Sāṃkhyakārikās:

prīty-aprīti-viṣādâtmakāḥ prakāśa-pravṛtti-niyamârthāḥ |
anyônyâ-’bhibhavâ-’’śraya-janana-mithuna-vṛttayaś ca guṇāḥ ||

“The three guṇas [which constitute all non-sentient reality] have the respective natures of joy, non-joy, and sorrow; they act to illuminate, transform, and restrain, respectively; and they have the capacity to ground, produce, combine, and suppress one another.”

I need to bone up on my Sāṃkhya and my Borgmann further before I stretch this analogy, but at least at first glance, it appears as if there is something potentially illuminating lurking in the shadows here. (One thing that strikes me: the three guṇas of Sāṅkhya are regarded as entirely distinct from the individual persons, puruṣas, who alone are conscious observers and actors. This suggests that information itself isn’t enough: it presupposes the existence of conscious observers who can recognize something as being information.)

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Why pearls, and why strung at random?

In his translation of the famous "Turk of Shirazghazal of Hafez into florid English, Sir William Jones, the philologist and Sanskrit scholar and polyglot extraordinaire, transformed the following couplet:

غزل گفتی و در سفتی بیا و خوش بخوان حافظ

که بر نظم تو افشاند فلک عقد ثریا را


into:

Go boldly forth, my simple lay,
Whose accents flow with artless ease,
Like orient pearls at random strung.

The "translation" is terribly inaccurate, but worse, the phrase is a gross misrepresentation of the highly structured organization of Persian poetry. Regardless, I picked it as the name of my blog for a number of reasons: 
1) I don't expect the ordering of my posts to follow any rhyme or reason
2) Since "at random strung" is a rather meaningless phrase, I decided to go with the longer but more pompous "pearls at random strung". I rest assured that my readers are unlikely to deduce from this an effort on my part to arrogate some of Hafez's peerless brilliance!

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Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
—W.H. Davies, “Leisure”