In the tradition of the Arthurian legends and Homer's Iliad, this is an epic tale of the legendary Tibetan warrior king, Gesar of Ling.
The saga of Gesar's life—from the harsh circumstances of his youth to his climactic days of battle against the enemies of the four directions—is an interweaving of scenes ranging from the gritty and human to the mystical and wondrous.
Some of Central Asia's most inspiring and sacred teachings have to do with courage: the bravery to face and conquer the inner and outer obstacles that prevent us from finding true freedom. The Gesar cycle has been recreated and amended by visionary bards in Central Asia for centuries. In this modern rendition, Douglas Penick brings us the unbroken heritage of spiritual warriorship embodied by the life of the enlightened warrior-sage Gesar, King of Ling. Gesar's unique teaching lies in showing us ways to use the very energy of drama and adventure to attain lasting peace.
For a long time, I’ve been committed to work that might help renew a culture of inwardness, particularly in reflecting on the relationship between society and nature. To this end, I worked on Emilio Ambasz’ visionary Universitas Project at MOMA in NY (which explored new alignments within the forces capable of re-designing the man-made environment). I then withdrew from that arena to study, practice and later teach Buddhism in the Karma Kagyu/Nyingma traditions. After twenty years, this evolved into making, with composer, Peter Lieberson, new pieces invoking various Central Asian epic traditions of spiritual and cultural renewal. The results were: King Gesar, premiered at the Munich Biennale (Sony CD), and Ashoka’s Dream about the Emperor Ashoka at the Santa Fe Opera. I’ve worked at presenting the nexus of loss and re-birth in a number of written and theater pieces centering on the Tibetan Book of the Dead (a series for the National Film Board of Canada -Leonard Cohen,Narrator), a piece at the Asia Society with Music by Philip Glass and a later one with Butoh master, Katsura Kan).
I then wrote two novels: A Journey of The North Star, an account, told by a eunuch-slave, of the third Ming Emperor’s struggle to re-create traditional Chinese culture (Publerati in 2012), and Dreamers and Their Shadows, about a revolutionary spiritual teacher, his erratic students, and their strange if lingering fate (2013-Mountain Treasury Press). In 2015, Hammer and Anvil Press published From The Empire of Fragments, a collection focused on the lives of the culturally displaced. This spring, Wakefield Press will bring out Charles Ré and my translation of Pascal Quignard’s A Terrace in Rome.
Shorter work has appeared in Cahiers de L’Herne, Agni, Chicago Quarterly, New England Quarterly, Parabola, Tricycle and Kyoto Journal among many others .
I wish I had more to say about this book, but there's just two things I can say without being more educated:
How do you review, say, Homer's Iliad? Or Wu Cheng'en's "Journey to the West"? Or the freakin' Bible?
I'll tell you how: by reviewing the translation. You don't even have to speak the original language to review them, you just have to be honest with yourself. Did the book evoke a feeling in you without knowing more? If so the translator did his job (which I would have to go on the line as a writer and say that proper translation is a much more difficult job than just straight composition) then I'd say both the writer and the translator were successful.
"The Warrior Song of King Gesar" is a classic oral tale of the nomadic peoples of inner Asia. It's a story that has been carried through Tibetans, Mongols, and Buryats, to name just some of the more prominent. It was recited aloud to the Kings of Bhutan (though whether memorized orally or through a text I'm not certain). The story existed for centuries and evolved with its times until the first printed edition was published in 1716 in classic Mongol in Beijing. It was composed in various manners, with slight changes depending on region and language until Douglas J. Penick produced this edition.
I thoroughly enjoyed this edition. The story is a steppe version of the Beowulf epic (I think Penick is more privy to Tibetan interpretations and translations than others, though he makes clear to refer to the "Land of Hor," the Tibetan name for "Mongolia," to keep a modern reader's nationalistic interpretations of the text out of it). Gesar is a boy embued with divine qualities who goes on to lead his people and then conquers the demons of the four corners of the earth.
There's not much more to say. How do you review a country's national epic? How do you critique Zeus? Well, I'm sure I could write a better review once I know more about the Gesar Epic, once I hear it recited by Tibetan scholars, sung by Buryat shamans, and read out to me from Mongol texts. But hey, Penick is a good place to start.
A beautiful text, concise and to the point. The story alternates between the plot and poetic songs sung by the main characters. What comes through are insights into Tibetan spiritual beliefs and ideas on consciousness.
3.5 stars. Another read on my "modern interpretation of ancient mythology" shelf and the first from Central Asia. The interpretation is generous and I appreciate all the notes about geography, people, Buddhism, etc. that add context to the story.
Most mythological texts have the problem of being overly verbose especially with names of people that never show up, and repetitive refrains. This version of King Gesar's epic has the opposite problem in that the author has overly condensed most of the story into synopsis, leaving only the lyrics of the songs sung in the epic intact (which while giving an authentic flair are the parts that are overly repetitive). Would rate lower but it's so short that I don't really regret reading it.