Chapter 10 Rethinking Categorization in Javanese Literary History: Some Reflections on a Fin-de-Siècle Memoir by Raden Sasrakusuma

In: Storied Island
Author:
Edwin P. Wieringa
Search for other papers by Edwin P. Wieringa in
Current site
Google Scholar
PubMed
Close
Open Access

Abstract

Raden Sasrakusuma (b. 1848) was a teacher and well-published writer who at the request of his first-born child, namely Raden Sasrasuganda, also a teacher and well-published writer, wrote a first-hand account of his life, entitled Layang Raga Pasaja (Book of My Unadorned Self), penned in intervals between 1901 and 1906. Although this memoir is classified in academic literature as an early example of modern, Western-influenced Javanese literature, it only had a most limited circulation, known to only a few people. In fact, it is only on account of a few Dutch Javanologists who happened to have access to a Romanized copy of Sasrakusuma’s reminiscences that his text became part of the canon of modern Javanese literature. This chapter argues that the existent categorization of Sasrakusuma’s narrative as a supposedly unique and innovative autobiography should be problematized, advocating to understand Javanese literature on its own terms, looking beyond the narrow confinements of “biography and history” with Western and modern biases.

1 Introduction1

The present chapter is informed by the self-evident idea that studying “new,” that is, hitherto unexplored, texts, will not only broaden our knowledge but also may cause us to rethink what we think we know. I want to illustrate this point by reconsidering some taken-for-granted ideas about a Javanese text that is classified in secondary literature as belonging to “modern Javanese literature,” namely Raden Sasrakusuma’s Layang Raga Pasaja (Book of My Unadorned Self; abbreviated as LRP), containing his personal memories (Figure 10.1). Is it really that “modern” and would its writer have considered it as “literature”?

Figure 10.1
Figure 10.1

Title or cover page of the Layang Raga Pasaja. The pencilled note at the top, in the unmistakable hand of Th(edoor) P(igeaud), mentions that the copy was received in December 1931 from Dr. H. Kraemer. Pigeaud categorized, in orange pencil, “Raga P(asaja) Mad(iun)” as “A25 no 4.”

Fakultas Sastra Universitas, Indonesia, Depok, MS. A 25.04

Sasrakusuma’s autograph is unknown, but the first-hand account of his life first entered the halls of Dutch Javanology when, in December 1931, Theodoor G.Th. Pigeaud (1899–1988) received a typescript romanization of it (in Surakarta) from the Protestant missionary Hendrik Kraemer (1888–1965), a fellow Leiden-trained Javanologist. In his capacity as taalambtenaar (government linguist), Pigeaud was an avid collector of manuscripts and transcriptions, which served as a corpus for his Javanese-Dutch dictionary project. The typescript is a romanization of Sasrakusuma’s text with corrections and marginal additions, giving the page numbers of the original text in the margins.2 As was usual in Pigeaud’s wordsmithy, the typescript is full of pencil markings as the text was combed through in search of words for the dictionary project (Figure 10.2).

Figure 10.2
Figure 10.2

The LRP was read “robotically” by Pigeaud’s team of dictionary-makers, transmuting the text into many index cards recording the appearance of certain words. Here the sentence “Rasaning (…) toewa” is placed between square brackets, while the marginal note “2×” indicates that two words are of lexicographical interest, namely “tjabiloek” and “menḏo(koe).” The text has lacunae in the first paragraph, indicated by dots.

Fakultas Sastra Universitas Indonesia, Depok, MS. A 25.04: 4

The transcription was based on a printed text in Javanese characters which displayed several imperfections at the beginning; the first part (LRP 1: 1, 3–4, 20, 23, 32, and 87) has some dotted passages, indicating lacunae in the text, most probably due to legibility problems (Figure 10.2). As Sasrakusuma makes clear on the final and concluding page (LRP 4: 20), the printing was begun with equipment ordered from the Netherlands, but he was disappointed with the quality of the print which was “unclear” (ora cĕtha, LRP 4: 20). Hence, Sasrakusuma printed the rest of his life-story with the help of new equipment, which cost little, was easy to use, and produced clear results (LRP 4: 20).3 Having taken the publication into his own hands, Sasrakusuma appears to have been a self-publishing author, but nothing is further known to me about the LRP in print.

For a long time, the LRP remained a well-kept secret in Javanology as it was not mentioned among the listings of Pigeaud’s items.4 In 1942, “when the original collector lost control of the books and papers in consequence of the outbreak of the war” (Pigeaud 1970: 139), Pigeaud’s complete working library seemed to have disappeared. However, it had just changed hands and made its way to Jakarta where, from this time on, it was incorporated into the library of the Faculty of Humanities of the Universitas Indonesia. It was only in 1970, with the publication of Pigeaud’s third volume of his catalogue of Javanese manuscripts in the Netherlands, that we encounter his former possession as part of “THP Coll.A” of the “Fakultas Sastra, Jakarta,” listed as item 4 under “A-25, 1931” (Pigeaud 1970: 146). However, this information is tucked away in an appendix, and is not retrievable through the index (Pigeaud 1970), nor are any references made to it in Pigeaud’s discussion of a second copy of the LRP in the other two volumes of his catalogue.5 As it turned out, Kraemer had kept a duplicate, which entered Leiden University Library (LUL) in 1963, where it is kept under call number Cod. Or. 10.842.6 It was transferred thereto from the Library of the Protestant Missionary College in Oegstgeest, together with a few dozen other Javanese manuscripts.

The discussion in the following pages revolves around a puzzle, namely: how can it be that this work, which was an obscure private family document, came to be regarded in Javanology as a prime example of modern, Western-influenced autobiographical literature? Rethinking categorization in Javanese literary history, this chapter is structured in the following way: I will start with the question of canon formation, emphasizing that Sasrakusuma solely secured posthumous plaudits from the fact that his LRP was canonized in two most influential general reference works, namely Pigeaud 1967 and Ras 1979. Sharing an approach, which was basically taxonomic and cataloguing in nature, both scholars were Leiden-trained Dutch philologists, who strongly relied upon the Javanese collection in Leiden, paying little or no attention to collections elsewhere in the world. Next, I will interrogate the terms “modern” and “literature” by looking into Sasrakusuma’s complete oeuvre, arguing that the use of prose as medium for the LRP suggest that this work did not count for him (or his contemporaries) as “literature,” and that Sasrakusuma’s specimen of a supposedly “innovative” literary genre of (auto)biography was strongly rooted in older indigenous rhetorical traditions. I then turn to the issue of provenance and collecting histories: it cannot be emphasized enough that we only know about Sasrakusuma’s reminiscences because one Dutchman, namely Hendrik Kraemer, happened to be interested in it. In order to understand what the LRP is all about, I take a closer look at its contents, providing a glimpse into Sasrakusuma’s life as told by himself. Finally, I will review the problem of establishing the genre to which Sasrakusuma’s “unusual” or even “unique” LRP belongs.

2 The Perspective from Leiden: Leiden University Library and Leiden Scholarship

The LRP is briefly mentioned by Ras (1979: 9), in his discussion of the emergence of modern Javanese literature, where he calls it one of the earliest “examples of works outside the tradition of classical literature.” According to Ras (1979: 9), who repeats Pigeaud’s brief description almost verbatim (Pigeaud 1968: 673), this text “contains autobiographical notes written in informal prose (ngoko) by Radèn Sasra Kusuma, a school-teacher [sic], for the benefit of his son who was also a teacher.” Ras (2014: 299) states that the new genre of life histories was created by a new class of litterateurs, generally with a professional background as teachers and journalists, who voiced their own thoughts and feelings. However, Ras (1979: 9) could only muster very few examples, suggesting that these works were “directly inspired by European ideas.” Ras’s brief discussion has been adopted in Indonesia, and hence Sasrakusuma is pegged as one of the writers of the “transitional period,” denoting the time in between the “classical” and “modern” eras, and consequently listed among the earliest Javanese autobiographical writers (Sri Widati et al. 2001: 25). Hitherto, however, Sasrakusuma’s autobiographical notes have not sparked any further academic interest.

It is worth registering that Ras’s account of Javanese (auto)biographies faithfully echoes the section on “Javanese Biographies” in Pigeaud (1967: 171–72) along with the latter’s corresponding catalogue descriptions of the cited Javanese texts. The rather meagre harvest of Javanese life stories available in the Netherlands induced Pigeaud to conclude that although “[m]any Javanese historical texts contain biographical elements, (…) the idea of writing a book solely on the life of one man and that not even a King, seems alien to the spirit of Javanese literature, which is not interested in individuals but in social and cosmic order” (Pigeaud 1967: 171; my emphasis). Totally oblivious of the colonial background of Leiden’s holdings, Pigeaud solely based his most generalizing assessment on findings in this one repository only, and the disappointing result nicely confirmed two popular Orientalist stereotypes of essentializing, namely (1) the notion of non-existence of individuals in Java; and (2) the idea that Javanese society and culture is essentially concerned with balance and harmony.7

However, the Leiden holdings cannot possibly provide a complete and veritable representation of Javanese literature.8 Apart from the unavoidable blind spots, it is perhaps more important to observe that using a colonial archive may easily and unreflexively perpetuate the ongoing effects of colonial thinking which tends to over-emphasize the role of the colonizer. This colonially-blinkered vision is revealed in the Orientalist belief that (auto)biographical writing would be intrinsically un-Javanese, with the corollary that this “anomalous” literature had to be the result of European influence, which was at its strongest in Java during the high colonial period from the late nineteenth century onwards.

3 The Oeuvre of Sasrakusuma

There is no denying that Sasrakusuma stood in close contact with Europeans. In fact, he was a well-published author, whose work was brought out by the Dutch colonial government. Perusing catalogues of manuscripts and printed works shows that he was a teacher who was continuously churning out learning material for elementary school children, mainly on arithmetic, natural science, and Javanese language. All these textbooks are in prose and do not normally count as capital-l-literature.

However, Sasrakusuma also wrote a narrative poem in tĕmbang, published by the Dutch government-sponsored publishing press of modern books, Volkslectuur (Popular Literature), entitled Dongeng Kuna (“Old Fairy Tale,” 1917), which is about two sisters who embody good and evil, ending with the moral lesson for children not to be envious of other’s good fortunes (Poerwa Soewignja and Wirawangs 1921: 467–68; Girardet et al. 1983: 426). This children’s literature could also be regarded as belonging to the realm of elementary school education. In the same year, Sasrakusuma also published another narrative poem in tĕmbang with Volkslectuur, namely Carita Lĕlampahane Nabi Yusup (“The Life-story of the Prophet Joseph”), but contrary to what the title might suggest, it is not about the Islamic Prophet Yūsuf, but based upon the Biblical story, or as it is phrased in the opening lines: “A story from the Torah is selected / to set a guideline” (Crita saka Toret dipunpĕtik / kinarya papathok). The Joseph story happened to be very popular among European missionaries in their attempts to win over Indonesian Muslims to the Christian faith (Wieringa 2017: 453ff.), but Sasrakusuma’s rendition seems to have been intended to provide a basic moral lesson, once again of good pitted against evil, thus mirroring his Old Fairy Tale, which also deals with sibling rivalry and jealousy. As we will see (below), the basic storyline of good vanquishing evil in a battle of vices vs virtues is also the main theme of the LRP.

Sasrakusuma started his work within “the tradition of classical literature” at a relatively early age, when he was a teacher-trainee. As he informs us in his memoir, his first earnings as a writer were for a collection of riddles presented to the Dutch scholar Cohen Stuart (Kohen Sĕtiwar), who paid him twenty guilders for it, and published it in the Javanese Almanac, which the latter edited.9 This publication can be identified as Sĕrat Pananggalan (Javaansche Almanak), number 17 of the year 1870, published by Van Dorp & Co. in Semarang, which contains “68 riddles collected by R.Ng. Sasrakoesoema” (Uhlenbeck 1964: 102). He furthermore received fifty guilders from Cohen Stuart for the earliest Javanese versified version of “The butterfly lovers” (Chinese: Liang Zhu), known in Javanese as Sam Pik Ing Tae, which was published in 1873 in the same Javanese Almanac.10 In Sasrakusuma’s student period, which coincided with his first foray in publishing, contacts with Dutch colonial authorities also led to the commissioned translation of a more mundane book, dealing with the planting of maize and the keeping of (live) freshwater fish (LRP 1: 54).

Every writer begins as a reader, and Winter’s prose translations of Dutch schoolbooks in particular made a great impact upon the young Sasrakusuma, who writes glowingly that although he had never met “Mister Winter” (Tuwan Wintĕr) in person, he considered him as his true teacher, who shaped his thoughts and whom he wished to emulate (LRP 1: 55). This Dutchman was none other than Carel Frederik Winter (Senior) (1799–1859) whose list of publications is truly impressive. The Book of Strange Stories (Layang Carita Aneh), which Sasrakusuma explicitly mentions among Winter’s works, must be the Javanese translation of a Dutch collection of short stories for children, some of which were taken from the tall tales of Baron Munchausen (Ricklefs 2007: 142; Robson 2009: 1078).

Intriguingly, Sasrakusuma categorizes Winter’s books as “really only trivial.” Given Sasrakusuma’s confession of great appreciation of Winter, this may sound like an unexpected and paradoxical put-down, but I think that the characterization as “trivial, insignificant, of little worth” (remeh-remeh) expressed a valuation on literary grounds of Winter’s prose schoolbook materials for a lowbrow audience, which belonged to another category than that of acclaimed “classical” Javanese literature. Traditionally, tĕmbang was synonymous with high literature, whereas plain prose was not deemed suitable for literary purposes. It has been said that the aristocratic and bureaucratic class of priyayi (to which Sasrakusuma belonged) generally looked down upon modern Javanese prose literature, mocking it as children’s literature without literary value in contrast to the lofty “classical” Javanese poetry, composed by kings and court poets (Imam Budi Utomo et al. 2002: 4 n. 2).

Sasrakusuma’s services to the colonial government notwithstanding, his memoir was not commissioned by any European. Why did he write this work, then? Its cover page (Figure 10.1) contains the following information:

This book (Layang) Raga Pasaja informs about the biography of Raden Sasrakusuma, school superintendent in Madiun, for as long as he can remember, frankly told, only for his descendants, but if the Lord permits it, it will be continued by his descendants who have agreed to go on with this book, telling about their own biographies. The reason why this book is written is because my first-born child, who is called Raden Sasrasuganda and is teacher of the Malay language at the chiefs’ school in Magelang, asked for it.

I have little biographical information about Raden Sasrasuganda, but in any case, he followed in his father’s footsteps as teacher and well-published writer.11 His best-known work is his Kĕkesahan dhatĕng Riyo (“Journey to Riau”), published by Volkslectuur/Balai Pustaka in 1921, which is routinely mentioned among the first modern prose travelogues in Javanese literature. However, as a writer, he seems to have mainly been active in the production of utilitarian literature, especially for the teaching of Malay. Amongst others, Sasrasuganda published a Malay-Javanese dictionary in 1910, whereas his 1910 Malay grammar book was an adaptation of Gerth van Wijk’s 1890 Dutch manual of the Malay language (Grijns 1991: 65). Sasrasuganda’s learning materials would teach the newly emerging modern Indonesian elite to speak Malay and also greatly influence later Indonesian linguists (Maier 2005: 15 n. 28).

Surveying the oeuvre of Sasrakusuma and Sasrasuganda, there is a strong suggestion that both still adhered to the traditional idea that “literature” was basically the realm of tĕmbang poetry, whereas prose was the default medium for more practically oriented writings. Both writers lived in a period when there was a strong demand for reading materials suitable for government schools (Brugmans 1938: 183–84, 246, 248), and as teachers, they delivered what was needed, earning an extra income on the side.

4 Temporal Exactness and Modernity

According to Suwondo and Mardianto (2001: 59–60), the early Balai Pustaka travelogues are all very realistic documentary reports, providing exact and detailed calendrical details for the factual accounts. It is noteworthy that Sasrakusuma’s LRP shares this characteristic. For Western-educated readers, it would be sufficient to know that the work was begun on June 22, 1901, but Sasrakusuma is far more detailed, dating the beginning exactly at half past eleven in the evening, on the evening preceding Sunday and (the market- day) Kliwon, on the fourth of the Javanese (lunar) month Mulud, in the Javanese year Dal, 1831, on the sixth of the Islamic month Rabīʿ al-awwal of the Islamic year 1319; the wuku was Watugunung; the ringkĕl Uwas, and the mangsa Kasa was one day old, coinciding with June 22, 1901 (LRP 1: 1).

One way of looking at this insistence on temporal exactness is to connect it to modernity, and hence (unavoidably) European influence. For example, discussing advertisements in Volkslectuur’s publications, Doris Jedamski states that “the Western understanding of time was gradually superimposed on the traditional perception of it. Manifested in watches and alarm clocks, the idea of punctuality slowly led to fixed working and opening hours, demanding rigid discipline and suggested strictly scheduled days and future planning” (Jedamski 1992: 40; emphasis mine). Jedamski (1992) accuses Balai Pustaka of having been “a colonial wolf in sheep’s clothing” and her statement about the Western idea of punctuality to teach the “lazy native” a lesson would seem to fit European colonial prejudices.

Regardless of any possible colonial ideas on the “civilizing mission” of the indigenous population, which may have driven Dutch colonial officials, a counterargument could be put forward that for those on the receiving end of the colonial enterprise, namely for those who wrote the early Balai Pustaka works, other considerations may have played a role here. Contrary to the colonial stereotype of “the” Javanese as easy-going people, who were unbothered about the Western aphorism of “time is money,” situating events in time is a highly important matter in Javanese culture. The extremely complex character of the Javanese calendrical system, with its many details about different days, weeks, months, years, and still many other cycles, already indicates its notability. As Ann Kumar (2009) has explained, the concept of “significant time” underlies the Javanese calendar.

Javanese numerology attaches great value to combinations of the different calendar units. In this context, it is telling that Sasrakusuma knows his birthday (wĕton), reckoned by combining days from the five-day and seven-day weeks (in other words, the cycle of 35 days, known as the wĕtonan cycle). Conversely, he has no information on the exact year of his birth, but, according to his mother, the birthday was on Sunday Lĕgi, in the wuku Langkir, whereas “everything else cannot be certified” (liyane ora bisa gĕnah).12 The calendrical element concerning the wĕtonan cycle is important for divination, and hence crucial for remembering, but Sasrakusuma does not further comment on its possible meaning.13 From statements elsewhere in the text, we know that his year of birth was 1848.14

Researchers of the first “modern” Javanese travelogues have pointed to the influence of much older Javanese descriptions of wandering and travelling (Bonneff 1986: 33–36; Quinn 1992: 5–8; Bosnak and Koot 2020: 27–32).15 The meticulous “bookkeeping” of calendrical details, I think, is another example of drawing upon indigenous ways of storytelling, following age-old traditions of an exact chronicling of events, demonstrating that “the Javanese were indubitably people with a sense of history and a capacity to record it” (Ricklefs 1998: 128). Sasrakusuma, who had a lifelong experience of working within the Western-style educational system, was undoubtedly conversant with “modern/Western” concepts of time. However, he not only used Western conventions to temporalize the beginning of his work but supplied many more calendrical details which referred to Javanese (and Islamic) traditions. Perhaps he deemed it an auspicious time for taking up his pen (see below for further discussion of the beginning), but in any case, the suggestion is made that the endeavor was of a certain importance, anchoring it in Javanese conventions of chronicling.

5 Sin and Sexuality, and a Calvinist Colonial Collector

It is due to serendipity that Sasrakusuma’s personal and very intimate notes ended up in a public collection, and hence was officially made part of Javanese literary history, but it is perhaps not entirely coincidental that Sasrakusuma’s LRP once attracted Kraemer’s professional interest. As a Javanologist with a missionary zeal, Kraemer worked in the Netherlands Indies from 1922 to 1937 (on leave in 1928–29), having a keen interest in Javanese literature. In this period, he collected a substantial number of manuscripts, while his scribbled exercise-books testify to his ardent reading habits.16 However, Kraemer never seems to have referred to Sasrakusuma’s LRP, neither in his publications nor in his personal papers. Yet he made a few marginal annotations at the very beginning of the typescript (LUL Cod. Or. 10.842, pp. 4–6), which seems to suggest that he did not read the text in its entirety. The first noteworthy thing in Kraemer’s eyes was the use of a magical means (sarat) against an accident (LUL Cod. Or. 10.842, p. 4).17 On the next page (p. 5), Kraemer noted “scolding God” (God uitschelden), committed at the age of six, which refers to Sasrakusuma’s great sin of cursing God. Kraemer concluded (on the same page) that Sasrakusuma had heard and seen a lot about sexual matters (Dus in de jeugd reeds veel gehoord en gezien op sexueel gebied). This referred to Sasrakusuma’s memories from the age of nine and ten, relating about another of his great sins, pertaining to the “matter of love-making” (prakara karĕsmen). Kraemer observed (p. 6) that “because of his sexual difficulties and mistakes in his youth, he knows that he later was visited by many disasters” (Vanwege zijn sexueele moeilijkheden en fouten in de jeugd, weet hij dat hij later bezocht is door veel ongeluk).

The troubled connection between sexuality and sin in Protestant denominations is too well-known to warrant further discussion, and it seems only natural therefore that the thoughts of a Javanese Muslim on this issue attracted Kraemer’s attention. However, Kraemer appears to have made no further notes in the text, although the theme of sinful sexuality, or other sins for that matter, is not restricted to Sasrakusuma’s early youth. For example, as a student, he felt very attracted to women, “but did not commit adultery big time” (nanging ora gawe jina gĕdhe).18 As a young bachelor (probably aged 15–16),19 kissing was already great for him, after which he returned home to masturbate, when it was “a total body wash [after ejaculation] in the evening; (ritual) prayer (ṣalāt) on the morning after” (bĕngi jinabat esuke salat).20 However, Sasrakusuma adds that he took great care of not wasting his semen on the ground as this might have bad consequences.21 A few years later, after he had been married for about three, four, or five months, Sasrakusuma writes that he committed the sin of whoring, for which he uses the terminology of “to commit adultery with a woman of easy virtue” (gawe jina karo planyahan) (LRP 1: 53). If that were not enough, almost in the same breath, he also mentions the sin of gambling (main) which beset him at the time (LRP 1: 53).

6 Dealing with the Past

One might easily fall into the Orientalist pitfall of assuming that Sasrakusuma’s exposure to foreign (Calvinist and colonial) worldviews might have caused this rather unusual candid confession of sins, but such a view is not supported by evidence from the LRP. Sasrakusuma seems to have intended his memoir as a part-confessional vehicle rather than concocting a panegyric of an idealized life. The text is imbued with a religious spirit, beginning with (a) taʿawwudh and (b) tasmiya (or basmala):

  1. I ask for Allah’s protection against the temptation of Satan, the accursed.22

  2. With the name of Allah, who is merciful in this world and compassionate in the hereafter.23

Thereupon the text proceeds with a “notification” (pengĕt), mentioning the exact date of the text’s beginning (see above) and stating that it was written at the request of his oldest child Raden Sasrasuganda, teacher of Malay in Magelang (also already mentioned above on the cover page). The beginning of the writing endeavor took place in the context of a night-time session of intense pondering and reflecting, accompanied by repetitive formulas for recollecting God’s presence (dhikr) and the utterance of several prayers.24 Sasrakusuma even asks Allah for a plenary indulgence, namely “for all the sins which I have committed, and for those I am committing, and for those I have not yet committed.”25 This beginning has a distinctly Sufi flavor, and the following statement seems to point to the wish of writing a confessional account by someone who wanted to come clean:

At the time of writing this document, it is with a pure heart, as I do not feel like a five-year-old child anymore, because I feel that I am covered in great sins with a dirty life-story.26

The reference to the age of five has probably to do with Sasrakusuma’s perceived earliest stage of mental awareness: his first recollections start at this age, with fond memories of his mother who taught him to recite the Qurʾan, and although her pronunciation was “not quite right” (olehe ngĕcapake (kĕcap) ĕmbok kurang bĕnĕre), her lessons “planted the seed for the fear of Allah” (dadi wiwinihing aku bisa wĕdi marang Gusti Allah), but Sasrakusuma admits that evil still entered his heart, so that he committed many sins, for which he asked forgiveness from Allah (LRP 1: 4–5).

After the introductory meditative procedures in 1901 (LRP 1: 1–3), Sasrakusuma proceeds with anecdotes from his earliest memories, youth, and the student period as teacher trainee in the Western system but also as santri until the age of approximately sixteen (LRP 1: 3–38). This first part ends rather abruptly, and the thread of the story is picked up from page 39 onwards. Apparently, there was quite some interval of time, because Sasrakusuma explained that he had taken up his pen again in 1904, at the age of 56 (LRP 1: 39). The account (LRP 1: 39–80) continues in the same narrative style, telling anecdotes from his life as a sequence of events, including the student years, family life (marriage and children), earliest writing experiences (in the early 1870s, LRP 1: 54ff., see above), contacts with such Dutch colonial administrators as van der Chijs (Tuwan Sĕpektur Pan der Ses, LRP 1: 62) and others, contacts with Surana, who was the editor of the Javanese newspaper Jurumartani, and illness and treatment by a Dutch doctor.27

The narrative flow is interrupted on page 80 with the heading carita sĕsĕlan (inserted story), providing the information that “my second writing” (panulisku kang kapindho) was finished on May 30, 1904, when he went to bed in the evening, waking up at five o’clock on the next day to continue his story. He also notes in the “inserted story” that (in May 1904) he had accumulated quite some debts, fl. 1,039 all told, with an extra debt of fl. 450 of the life insurance (Levensverzekering). Thereupon the story continues with anecdotes of his life as teacher, contacts and cooperation with Dutch officials for native education, family life, examination, and subsequent appointment as school superintendent (mantri guru) in Madiun. Financial worries continued to plague him, which drove him to his writing desk in pursuit of royalties (LRP 1: 86).

The third writing session, which was begun on May 30, 1904, is much concerned with monetary matters, including a flashback of poverty during the years as teacher-trainee in Purwadadi, while having to care for a family at the same time (LRP 1: 93). Reflecting on his life in those years as an “idle good-for-nothing,” Sasrakusuma recalls that he often tearfully remembered Allah, imploring his offspring to always be faithful and fearful of Allah (LRP 1: 96). When his 28-days-old baby died, followed by the death of his wife a little later, Sasrakusuma’s debts increased even more. His printed mourning card consisted of two stanzas in the verse form dhandhanggula, beginning with the following poetic lines (LRP 1: 97):

It is a telling sign, I think, that Sasrakusuma chose to use tĕmbang in this context for his expression of sadness. However, he does not want to dwell on his feelings after the death of his wife, “because everyone probably knows [about such feelings]” (sabab sabĕn wong kira-kira bisa nimbang, LRP 1: 98). Sasrakusuma tells that his wife’s death affected him greatly, but rather quickly he elevated his domestic help Sujinĕm to his concubine or unofficial wife (bojo paminggir). In a rather blunt way (or at least so in my opinion), he provided ten practical reasons for this, among others mentioning that she already lived with him and his family under the same roof, was liked by his children, and only cost little (LRP 1: 99). In connection with a birth within the family, which coincided with the “downfall of His Highness Bratadiningrat” (ambruke Kangjĕng Bratadiningrat, LRP 1: 100), Sasrakusuma briefly touches upon a notorious incident in the Madiun Residency, involving the power struggle between Bratadiningrat (Bupati or Regent in Madiun between 1885 and 1900) and the Dutch Resident (the highest form of colonial regional official) Johan Donner, which culminated in the forced resignation of Bratadiningrat (Ong Hok Ham 1978).28 This part is closed with a pious thought on the omnipotence of Allah, and once more with an account of monetary matters involving details on debts and earnings (LRP 1: 101). Apparently, it crossed his mind that he still had some anecdotes to add, resulting in three “additions” (wuwuhan) with supplementary information and afterthoughts (LRP 1: 101–02, 102–04, 104–05).

7 Chronicling the Early Twentieth Century

A brief look at the structure of the LRP may show that it was very much a work in progress, to which Sasrakusuma kept adding on to at several intervals. The entire work consists of four parts, which are all brought formally to a close by the word tamat or “end” (1: 1–105; 2: 1–43; 3: 3, 5–22; 4: 1–19). The final page (LRP 4: 20) contains a short “declaration” (katĕrangan) concerning the printing process (see above). Part I was a folder of memories from the beginning of Sasrakusuma’s life to the turn of the century, whereas the other parts are substantially shorter and chronicle the early 1900s with occasional flashbacks.

Although the word tamat (LRP 1: 105) indicates that the story was finished, Sasrakusuma continued his work with a “second LRP” (Layang Ragapasaja kang kapindho), which was begun on May 7, 1902. The procedure is the same as in the preceding part, namely beginning with a Sufi meditation and concentration session involving prayers and breathing practices (LRP 2: 1–3). The story begins with giving thanks to Allah for granting the possibility to continue the LRP, which might not have been finished “on account of my many sins” (awit saka kehing dosaku, LRP 2: 4). The design of the second volume of the LRP is rather different than the preceding work. Whereas the first volume is a retrospective of the period 1848–1901, which only occasionally provides dates for the events, the story of the second volume proceeds in a chronicle-like fashion, reporting at quite some length what happened on certain dates. The account reads like rather detailed entries in a diary, which generally only provides the dates of the Western calendar. The main topics of the second part are the weddings of two of his children and a persistent skin disease.

Financial worries continued to haunt Sasrakusuma, and at times his account resembles a housekeeping book. It even includes a rather long list of names and the sums of money which each of them provided when he married off one his children (LRP 2: 24–27). His own health problems and those of family members, which form another continuing thread of the LRP, are also addressed at large in the second part, even in quite some detail. Sasrakusuma’s candor, which is a key characteristic of his LRP, makes no exception for an uncomfortable skin disease. Normally, and not just in Javanese culture, such most intimate details as financial difficulties and ailments are a source of shame, and certainly not the things one will disclose to everyone, strongly suggesting that the LRP was intended for the family archive and not for public view. At this time, which was in April 1902, the members of his household fell ill in large numbers, and the debts crawled steadily upwards to 1,050 guilders (LRP 2: 22). Readers who have come this far will not be surprised that Sasrakusuma felt that all of this was the result of Allah’s judgement on his many sins (LRP 2: 23).

The last dated entry of the second volume is April 6, 1903, noting that “it is told that Resident Donner will resign his job” (Residhen Donnĕr kacarita tanggal 6 April 1903 bakal seleh pandamĕlan, LRP 2: 39), but apparently the whole Bratadiningrat Affair caused him to write an “addition” (wuwuhan) on the topic (LRP 2: 40–43), before the word tamat brought the story formally to an end. However, Sasrakusuma later still revisited his text, e.g. adding a footnote from September 1906 (LRP 2: 28).

As it turns out, Sasrakusuma had still more to say, writing a third LRP (Layang Ragapasaja kang katĕlu), starting with the concise explanation that the same prayers applied as at the beginning of the LRP 1 and 2 (LRP 3: 3). The third volume concerns “oddities” or strange happenings (aneh-anehan). The first of these occurred on March 2o, 1903 or 21 Bĕsar 1832 around half past two in the afternoon, when he was woken up from his siesta by an unknown woman, who was allegedly sent by the Prophet Muhammad to convey the latter’s blessing upon him (LRP 3: 6). Apparently, this peculiar incident made Sasrakusuma reflect upon earlier “oddities” because he subsequently continues with subsections about five other strange events, two of them from around the 1880s, while the three more recent ones are from the years 1901–03.

The rather short second section of the third volume (LRP 3: 13) concerns “what happened at home” (Kang kalakon ana ing ngomah), but only provides information of March 9, 1903/9 Bĕsar 1832 and May 12, 1903/14 Sapar 1833 concerning Sasrakusuma’s two daughters. The third section is about “the wedding of Suryatin” (Dhaupe Suryatin), i.e., the wedding of his son Suryatin with Raden Ajĕng Salasiyah on Saturday, 29 Rabingulakir 1833 or July 25, 1903 (LRP 3: 13–16), which is rather detailed, including among others a song (unen-unen) in the verse form kinanthi, and long lists of all the local (Javanese) notables who accompanied the bridal couple in their carriages. The fourth section discusses Sasrakusuma’s relationship with Sujinĕm, paying special attention to the interpretation of dreams (LRP 3: 16–18).

Sasrakusuma “interrupted” (nyĕlani) his account with a poem on “admonitions for daughters” (pitutur marang anak wadon), cast in the verse form asmarandana (28 stanzas; LRP 3: 18–20). Not surprisingly perhaps, the contents are thoroughly traditional: such a line as “woman is man’s servant, without power and rights” (wadon dasihing wong lanang / nora duwe wĕwĕnang, stanza 2, LRP 3: 18) pretty much sums up what Sasrakusuma wanted girls to know about their place and role in the world. The final section (LRP 3: 21–22), which was written on August 12, 1903, deals with Sasrakusuma’s persistent tightness of the chest and coughing, which plagued him for weeks until a certain health potion finally presented a solution. The word tamat brings the volume formally to an end.

The fourth and final volume of Sasrakusuma’s work (Layang Ragapasaja kang kaping IV) follows the by now usual format, beginning with prayers, but substantially more than in the preceding volumes (pp. 2–4). Sasrakusuma picks up the thread of his story in August 1903, beginning with a letter by Suryatin dated August 7, 1903 (LRP 4: 5), followed by a second section which contains a rather extensive summary of a letter by Kangmas Purwadikrama of 17 August 17, 1903 (LRP 4: 5–8; with reference to LRP 3 about a trip made to Pranaraga by Sujinĕm). The ever-present problem of financial troubles is the topic of the third section (LRP 4: 8–9), after which Sasrakusuma returns his narrative attention to Sujinĕm, who had returned to Pranaraga, and her interest in esoteric knowledge (LRP 4: 9–11). In October 1903, Sasrakusuma dreamed that he received a beautiful and expensive dove as a gift, which he interpreted as a bad omen, “since whoever has this bird, [will have] a lot of bad luck, experience damage, or die soon” (dadi sapa kang kanggonan ma[n]uk mau, akeh cilakane, anĕmahi karusakan, utawa enggal mati, LRP 4: 11). This dream upset Sasrakusuma very much, closing this section with “I don’t know what will happen, only Allah knows” (Dene kadadeyane ĕmbuh, mung Allah kang ngawuningani, LRP 4: 11).

Not long afterwards, Sujinĕm got pregnant (again), and the fifth section is entitled “The birth of Damarwan” (Laire Damarwan; LRP 4: 11–14). Its date is most meticulously recorded, namely 18 Mulud 1834 of the year Jimakir (of the eight-year cycle), Anno Hegirae (Ijrah) 1332, half past eight in the morning, on Thursday Kaliwon, June 2, 1904, in the mangsa Sadha, on Tungle (the first day of the six-day week), in the windu Sancaya (LRP 4: 11). Possible implications of this date for his son’s future are not discussed, and Sasrakusuma devotes this section almost entirely to his enormous financial difficulties. The sixth section takes us back to the year 1886, when his first wife was still alive (LRP 4: 14–17), whereas the seventh section is an “admonition” (pitutur) for his first-born grandson called Suratin, who was six-and-a-half years old at the time (LRP 4: 17). Sasrakusuma comments that this “teaching” (wuwulang) was intended for all his (future) grandchildren when they had reached the same age. It is a relatively short poem (nine stanzas) in the verse form kinanthi, lecturing young children to be well-behaved. Although the poem merely has a total of 205 words, the negative imperative aja (“don’t”) is used no less than 22 times.

The eighth and final section (LRP 4: 17–19) is simply entitled “To be used as end of this volume” (Kaanggo wĕkasane jilidan iki) and brings the life-story of Sasrakusuma full circle, returning to his earliest childhood, when he was a “boy out of line” (bocah bubrah, LRP 4: 17). He had been a gambler and womanizer, committing great sins. However, Allah always kept reminding him of his obligations and responsibilities.29 It was only at the age of 31 years, when he became mantri guru in Madiun, that he began to reflect on his bad behavior. At the age of 32 or 33 years, he finally understood that it was “Allah’s Will” (karsaning Allah) to serve in school. The story closes with an expression of thanks to Allah, but the final sentence is reserved for the “Honorable Government” (Kangjĕng Gupĕrmen), for providing money for writing books, so that he had been better off than all his siblings.30 The word tamat formally indicated that the book was completed.

8 The Question of Genre: What Is It That We Are Studying?

What is the meaning of life? A closer look at the concept of “life-story” may give us an idea of the horizon of expectation of a Javanese audience. On the cover or title page (Figure 10. 1), Sasrakusuma announced that his LRP was about lalakone Raden Sasrakusuma, which I translated (above) as “the biography of Raden Sasrakusuma.” However, as Benedict Anderson (1990: 247) already observed, the crucial word lĕlakon is “notoriously impossible to translate,” “something like a mixture of ‘destiny,’ ‘role,’ ‘life aim,’ and ‘moral responsibility’.” The verbal derivation nglakoni means “1 to endure difficulties voluntarily; 2 to undergo, endure” (Robson and Wibisono 2002: 419), while Quinn (1992: 292) glosses lĕlakon as an “unusually trying or testing experience, something that one ‘goes through.’” In 1917, Sasrakusuma would publish his story of Joseph under the title of Carita Lĕlampahane Nabi Yusup, which I translated (above) as “The Life-story of the Prophet Joseph,” but another possible interpretation could be “The Story of the Trial and Tribulations of the Prophet Joseph.” The rather broad semantic field of the word lĕlakon (or lĕlampahan in krama) lends the idea of life histories a deeper religious meaning, commensurate with the overarching Islamic belief that “everything that happens is the product of the divine decree,” in which each life has to go through “divine testing” (Wieringa 2010: 319).

The lĕlakon of Sasrakusuma espouses an extreme God-centered view, believing that everything depends on all-knowing and all-mighty Allah. Reflecting on his personal life, Sasrakusuma does what teachers do for a living, namely teach, which he considered as his calling in life. The moral of the story about the importance of leading a life in accordance with God’s purpose is basically the same as both in his story of Joseph and his Old Fairy Tale, all written at an already advanced age when the prospect of death habitually generates introspection, namely about a lifelong struggle between good and evil.31 Apparently, the LRP was not vanity publishing: there is no indication that it was for sale, and it seems to have been intended as a private legacy for the family, attempting to shepherd his descendants into good behavior.

How to shelve Sasrakusuma’s life history in a virtual library of Javanese writings? The answer to this depends on the answer to another question: what would our organizing principle be? Furthermore, there is the caveat that our ideas might not necessarily be the same as those of a contemporaneous Javanese bibliophile who put his library in order. If the 1948 catalogue of a Javanese gentleman studied by Ben Arps is any guide, biographies would count among the category of “histories, genealogies-pedigrees” (babad, sajarah-asalsilah) (Arps 1999: 466). However, other ways of categorization are also possible. For example, the LRP is classified under “PW” in the catalogue of Behrend and Pudjiastuti (1997a and 1997b), which stands for Piwulang, Suluk, and didactic texts. The “idea of moral edification and religious instruction” (Partin 1956: 303), which is common for the genre of (auto)biography in many literatures, obviously applies here. As the historian Robert Partin (1956: 303) reminds us, “From the days of Plutarch (46–120) to the days of Lytton Strachey (1880–1932) almost all biography was written either for the purpose of making men ‘in love with virtue,’ or to point out to them ‘the hateful and horrid consequences of vice.’” Sasrakusuma’s LRP harps on this theme more than on any other. Partin’s article is entitled “Biography as an instrument of moral instruction” (Parkin 1956), which could equally well serve as a title for the present chapter.

When Pigeaud first categorized the LRP in the 1930s, he put it away under a most general unifier, namely “Notes on Javanese Literature and Culture,” together with a motley collection of most diverse texts (Pigeaud 1970: 143–49). Under his collection of “A” or Aantekeeningen (Notes), Pigeaud seems to have shelved as many of his books as he could, but in my opinion it is consequently barely distinguishable from the “not organized” or “dustbin” category. Many years later, when Pigeaud had to catalogue Kraemer’s copy of the LRP, he categorized it into “Part Two” of his synopsis of Javanese literature under “History and Mythology” (Pigeaud 1967), into the section “Historical Literature of the Inland Kingdoms of Central Java: the Dynasty of Mataram” under “Biographies.”

What about other Javas away from Leiden? We have seen that Pigeaud (1967: 171) regarded Javanese biographies as “alien to the spirit of Javanese literature,” but a look beyond Leiden, preferably shifting our angle of vision to Java, may show that none other than the grand vizier (patih) of the royal court of Surakarta, namely Raden Adipati Sasradiningrat IV (1847–1925) “left behind an autobiographical manuscript that details his life in Surakarta during these years of rapid change” (Florida 2012: 22). Called Dhirilaksita (translated by Florida 2012: 22 as “Narrative of the Self”), it covers his life from birth up to the years preceding his promotion to the position of patih of Surakarta (in office 1890–1916). It is noteworthy that its title already suggests that it is a “Biography as an instrument of moral instruction.” The Sanskrit-derived literary component laksita denotes “behavior; rule of life” (Robson and Wibisono 2002: 419), which is glossed as laku and kalakuan (Gericke and Roorda 1901, 2:111; Poerwadarminta 1939: 257). The Javanese lexicographer Poerwadarminta (1930: 340) provides the same glosses, but additionally explains it as tindak (“what s.o. does; actions, conduct”; Robson and Wibisono 2002: 748) and as pitutur (“1 (words of) advice; 2 admonition, caution”; Robson and Wibisono 2002: 575).

Hitherto unstudied, the Dhirilaksita only came to the light of day after it appeared in the catalogue of Girardet et al. (1983: 448–49), but its description as a “chronicle beginning with K.R.A. Sasranagara and ending with K.R.A. Sasradiningrat IV who died on 28 June 1925 and was buried at Imagiri” did not immediately make clear that it belonged to the genre of Javanese biographies. It was Nancy K. Florida who for the first time pointed to this particular aspect, providing much more information about its contents, by describing it in her catalogue of the manuscript collection of the Radya Pustaka Museum in Solo (Florida 2012: 79–80), putting it in the category of “History: 19th century Java.” The text is written in the third person and its only witness seems to be this unicum manuscript, which is dated August 14, 1954.

How unique was the writing about selves in Java? Much depends on what we think we know. For example, Martin van Bruinessen (1987: 376) praises Ann Kumar’s 1985 publication on the “diary of a Javanese Muslim” for “finding and making available this unique material” (emphasis added). This concerns a text, which features as “Wanderings of Soma Rĕja” among the few examples that Pigeaud could find of “Javanese Biographies” (Pigeaud 1967: 172), described by Pigeaud (1968: 393) as a travelogue from the 1880s. It is kept in LUL under call number Cod. Or. 6553, once belonging to the Dutch colonial bureaucrat-scholar Godard Arend Johannes Hazeu (1870–1929). Furthermore, Pigeaud (1980: 245) describes a manuscript of the KITLV manuscript collection in Leiden (KITLV Or 409), which is “unique in providing information on the origin and rise of a family of Chinese business people in Central Java in the nineteenth century” (emphasis added). This voluminous nineteenth-century family document with years and dates (according to the European calendar), cast in tĕmbang, only entered the public domain when it was purchased in 1970 from a Chinese gentleman of Semarang and was subsequently moved to Leiden through the intermediary of H.J. de Graaf (1899–1984), the noted Dutch historian specializing in Javanese history (Pigeaud 1980: 242–45). It is only rather recently that this text has come under the scrutiny of Javanologists.32 Apparently, this Sino-Javanese narrative poem, which has the rich merchant Ko Ho Sing (1826–90) as its central protagonist, shares some elements with the life histories of Sasradiningrat IV and Sasrakusuma, despite all kinds of differences.

How does this relate to our categorization of presumed “unique” texts? Are such terms as “modern” and “literature” suitable in the “unique” cases of Sasrakusuma, Sasradiningrat IV, and Ko Ho Sing? As Mana Kia (2020: 22) has remarked of writings commemorating Persianate selves, “recording what happened is only one concern of commemorative texts,” pointing out that “Memorializing had moral benefits, whether as warning (ʿibrat) or as celebration of worthy example.” While Javanology is still in a rather preliminary phase of unearthing primary material, the relatively new field of Memory Studies may help in broadening the conceptual and contextual horizons beyond Java.

How do we define “biography” and is it even suitable for our analysis? Other contributions in this volume invite us to rethink and problematize this term with all its Western connotations, including the tenacious idea that “biography” is a Western-derived genre and hence a foreign imported idea in Java. As Ronit Ricci’s chapter in this volume makes clear, the Tales of the Prophets (qiṣaṣ al-anbiyāʾ) were highly popular in nineteenth-century Java, providing exemplary biographies and primarily valued for their moral teachings. Sasrakusuma adapted the story of the Prophet Joseph, which not only further underscores the popularity and importance of the prophetic biographies, but his adaptation should also make us reconsider hitherto unrecognized influences upon Javanese biographical representation. Furthermore, the Nitik texts studied by Els Bogaerts in this volume as a “biography” of Sultan Agung could also be brought into the fold. As Mana Kia (2020: 21) argues, rather than studying commemorative texts within the narrow confines of “biography and history” with Western and modern biases, we are dealing with a group of texts, often intertextually related, which is much broader and includes histories, travel narratives, (auto)biographies, and so on, all broadly commemorative.

Who knows what other “lucky finds” one could make in other not-yet- catalogued collections, especially in private collections unbeknown to all but a few people? Each and every life is unique, but was Javanese writing about selves that unusual as has been assumed previously? What might be the implications of finding comparable additional works? How could we possibly find out? To work, then.

Bibliography

  • Anderson, Benedict R.O’G. 1990. “A Time of Darkness and a Time of Light: Transposition in Early Indonesian Nationalist Thought.” In Benedict R.O’G. Anderson, Language and Power. Exploring Political Cultures in Indonesia. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 241270.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Anonymous. 1917a. “Cohen Stuart (Abraham Benjamin).” In Encyclopaedie van Nederlandsch-Indië. Eerste deel: A–G, edited by J. Paulus. ’s-Gravenhage: Nijhoff; Leiden: Brill, 496497.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Anonymous. 1917b. “Chijs (Mr. Jacobus Anne van der).” In Encyclopaedie van Nederlandsch-Indië. Eerste deel: A–G, edited by J. Paulus. ’s-Gravenhage: Nijhoff; Leiden: Brill, 490.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Arps, Bernard. 1999. “How a Javanese Gentleman Put his Library in Order,” BKI 155: 416469.

  • Behrend, Timothy E. 1988. “Small Collections of Javanese Manuscripts in Indonesia.” Archipel 35: 2342.

  • Behrend, T.E. and Titik Pudjiastuti. 1997a. Katalog induk naskah-naskah Nusantara. Jilid 3-A:Fakultas Sastra Universitas Indonesia. Jakarta: Yayasan Obor Indonesia and École française d’Extrême Orient.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Behrend, T.E. and Titik Pudjiastuti. 1997b. Katalog induk naskah-naskah Nusantara. Jilid 3-B: Fakultas Sastra Universitas Indonesia. Jakarta: Yayasan Obor Indonesia and École française d’Extrême Orient.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Binder, Stefan. 2020. Total Atheism: Secular Activism and the Politics of Difference in South India. New York: Berghahn.

  • Bonneff, Marcel. 1986. Pérégrinations javanaises. Les voyages de R.M.A. Purwa Lelana: une vision de Java au XIXe siècle (c. 1860–1875). Paris: Editions de la Maison des sciences de l’homme.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Bosnak, Judith E. and Frans X. Koot. 2020. The Javanese Travels of Purwalelana. A Nobleman’s Account of His Journeys across the Island of Java 1860–1875. Abingdon and New York: Routledge.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Brandes, J. 1902. “Lo Tong, een Javaansche reflex van een Chineeschen ridder-roman.” TITLV 45: 263271.

  • Brugmans, I.J. 1938. Geschiedenis van het onderwijs in Nederlandsch-Indië. Groningen, Batavia: J.B. Wolters.

  • Bruinessen, Martin van. 1987. “Review of Ann Kumar, The Diary of a Javanese Muslim.” BKI 143: 374376.

  • Dijk, Cees van. 1986. “Gezanten, slaven, een schilder en enkele scholieren.” In In het land van de overheerser. Vol. I: Indonesiërs in Nederland 1600–1950, edited by Harry Poeze, with contributions by Cees van Dijk and Inge van der Meulen. Dordrecht and Cinnaminson: Foris Publications, 122.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Drewes, G.W.J. 1951. “Autobiografieën van Indonesiërs.” BKI 107: 226264.

  • Florida, Nancy K. 2012. Javanese Literature in Surakarta Manuscripts. Volume 3: Manuscripts of the Radya Pustaka Museum and the Hardjonagaran Library. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Gericke, J.F.C. and T. Roorda. 1901. Javaansch-Nederlandsch handwoordenboek. 2 vols. Amsterdam: Müller; Leiden: Brill.

  • Grijns, C.D. 1991. “Bahasa Indonesia avant la lettre in the 1920s.” In Papers in Austronesian Linguistics, edited by H. Steinhauer. Canberra: The Australian National University, 4981.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Hannemann, Tilman. 2006. “Adultery.” In Medieval Islamic Civilization. An Encyclopedia, edited by Josef W. Meri. New York and London: Routledge, 1: 1618.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Headley, Stephen C. 2000. From Cosmogony to Exorcism in a Javanese Genesis. The Spilt Seed. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

  • Imam Budi Utomo, Adi Triyono, Y. Sarworo Soeprapto, and R. Wisma Nugraha Christianto. 2002. Eskapisme sastra Jawa. Yogyakarta: Gama Media.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Inhorn, Marcia Claire. 2012. The New Arab Man: Emergent Masculinities, Technologies, and Islam in the Middle East. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Jedamski, Doris. 1992. “Balai Pustaka: A Colonial Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.” Archipel 44: 2346.

  • Kia, Mana. 2020. Persianate Selves: Memories of Place and Origin Before Nationalism. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.

  • Kumar, Ann. 1985. The Diary of a Javanese Muslim; Politics and the Pesantren 1883–1886. Canberra: Australian National University.

  • Kumar, Ann. 2009. “Significant Time, Myths and Power in the Javanese Calendar.” In Lost Time and Untold Tales from the Malay World, edited by Jan van der Putten and Mary Kilcline Cody. Singapore: NUS Press, 116.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Maier, Hendrik M. 2005. “A Hidden Language – Dutch in Indonesia.” UCBerkeley: Institute of European Studies. Retrieved from https://escholarship.org/uc/item/2cg0m6cq.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Ong Hok Ham. 1978. “The Inscrutable and the Paranoid: An Investigation into the Sources of the Brotodiningrat Affair.” In Southeast Asian Transitions: Approaches through Social History, edited by R.T. McVey. New Haven: Yale University Press, 112157.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Partin, Robert. 1956. “Biography as an Instrument of Moral Instruction.” American Quarterly 8: 303315.

  • Pigeaud, Theodore G.Th. 1967. Literature of Java. Catalogue raisonné of Javanese Manuscripts in the Library of the University of Leiden and Other Public Collections in the Netherlands. Volume I: Synopsis of Javanese Literature 900–1900 A.D. The Hague: Nijhoff.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Pigeaud, Theodore G.Th. 1968. Literature of Java. Catalogue raisonné of Javanese Manuscripts in the Library of the University of Leiden and Other Public Collections in the Netherlands. Volume II: Descriptive Lists of Javanese Manuscripts. The Hague: Nijhoff.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Pigeaud, Theodore G.Th. 1970. Literature of Java. Catalogue raisonné of Javanese Manuscripts in the Library of the University of Leiden and Other Public Collections in the Netherlands. Volume III: Illustrations and Facsimiles of Manuscripts, Maps, Addenda and a General Index of Names and Subjects. The Hague: Nijhoff.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Pigeaud, Theodor G.Th. 1980. Literature of Java. Catalogue raisonné of Javanese Manuscripts in the Library of the University of Leiden and Other Public Collections in the Netherlands. Volume IV: Supplement. Leiden: Leiden University Press.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Poerwa Soewignja, R. and R. Wirawangsa. 1921. Javaansche bibliographie gegrond op de boekwerken in die taal aanwezig in de Boekerij van het Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen. Deel II. Batavia: Drukkerij Ruygrok & Co.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Poerwadarminta, W.J.S. (with the assistance of C.S. Hardjasoedarma and J.Chr. Poedjasoedira). 1930. Baoe Sastra Djawa anerangaken temboeng-temboeng, paribasan, temboeng kawi, tjandra sangkala, wangsalan, oenèn-oenén. Djilid I: A–K–L. Ngajogja: Pakempalan “Triwikrâma”.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Poerwadarminta, W.J.S. (with the assistance of C.S. Hardjasoedarma and J.Chr. Poedjasoedira). 1939. Baoesastra Djawa. Groningen, Batavia: Wolters’ Uitgevers-Maatschappij.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Quinn, George. 1992. The Novel in Javanese. Aspects of its Social and Literary Character. Leiden: KITLV Press.

  • Quinn, George. 2013. “Liang Shanbo Yu Zhu Yingtai: A Chinese Folk Romance in Java and Bali.” In Literary Migrations: Traditional Chinese Fiction in Asia (17th–20th Centuries), edited by Claudine Salmon. Singapore: ISEAS Publishing, 336358.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Ras, J.J. 1979. Javanese Literature since Independence. An Anthology. The Hague: Nijhoff.

  • Ras, J.J. 2014. Masyarakat dan kesusastraan di Jawa. Jakarta: Yayasan Pustaka Obor Indonesia.

  • Ricklefs, M.C. 1998. “Babad Sangkala and the Javanese Sense of History.” Archipel 55: 125140.

  • Ricklefs, M.C. 2007. Polarising Javanese Society. Islamic and Other Visions (c. 1830–1930). Leiden: KITLV Press.

  • Robson, Stuart. 2009. “Catatan tentang karya-karya terjemahan C.F. Winter ke dalam bahasa Jawa.” In Sadur: Sejarah terjemahan di Indonesia dan Malaysia, edited by Henri Chambert-Loir. Jakarta: Kepustakaan Populer Gramedia, École française d’Extrême-Orient, Forum Jakarta-Paris, Pusat Bahasa, and Universitas Padjadjaran, 10771081.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Robson, Stuart and Singgih Wibisono. 2002. Javanese-English Dictionary. Hong Kong, Singapore: Periplus.

  • Sasrakusuma, Raden. Layang Raga Pasaja. Fakultas Sastra Universitas Indonesia, Depok. MS. A 25.04.

  • Sasrakusuma, Raden, Layang Raga Pasaja. Leiden University Library. Cod. Or. 10.842.

  • Sri Widati et al. 2001. Ikhtisar perkembangan sastra Jawa modern. Periode prakemerdekaan. Yogyakarta: Gadjah Mada University Press.

  • Sumarsam. 1995. Gamelan: Cultural interaction and Musical Development in Central Java. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Suwondo, Tirto and Herry Mardianto. 2001. Sastra Jawa Balai Pustaka 1917–1942. Yogyakarta: Mitra Gama Widya.

  • Uhlenbeck, E.M. 1964. A Critical Survey of Studies on the Languages of Java and Madura. ’s-Gravenhage: Nijhoff.

  • Wieringa, Edwin. 2010. “God Speaks Through Natural Disasters, But What Does He Say? Islamic Interpretations in Indonesian Tsunami Poetry.” In Aceh: History, Politics and Culture, edited by Arndt Graf, Susanne Schröter, and Edwin Wieringa. Singapore: ISEAS, 316333.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
  • Wieringa, Edwin P. 2017. “The Story of Yusuf and Indonesia’s Islamisation: A Work of Literature Plus.” In Islamisation: Comparative perspectives from history, edited by A.C.S. Peacock. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 444471.

    • Search Google Scholar
    • Export Citation
1

For helpful comments during joint readings of sections of the LRP and valuable suggestions on earlier drafts of this essay, I thank the other members of the research group “New Directions in the Study of Javanese Literature,” especially (in alphabetical order) Ben Arps, Els Bogaerts, Tony Day, Nancy Florida, Ronit Ricci, and Willem van der Molen.

2

I will only refer to the page numbers of the romanization. The spelling of all citations has been modernized.

3

As Willem van der Molen points out, a printing set of types is rather expensive and only economically interesting for persons (or rather companies) with professional intentions, so perhaps Sasrakusuma was referring to the cheaper alternative of lithography (personal communication). The romanization does not mention a printer’s imprint or any other paratextual data involving printed matter.

4

Serially published in pre-war issues of the Yearbook of the Royal Batavian Society of Arts and Sciences (Behrend 1988: 30).

5

Having relied too much on the index and description of Cod. Or. 10.842 of Pigeaud’s catalogue, I only became aware of Pigeaud’s own copy in Jakarta at a very late stage of my research. Thankfully, through the most kind and swift intermediary of Titik Pudjiastuti, professor of Indonesian philology at the Universitas Indonesia, a PDF copy of it was delivered to my e-mail account (on August 12, 2021).

6

Enclosed in the sheaf with unbound pages is a note on the structure of the text, made on September 10, 1974, perhaps by Soegiarto. Because of misplacement of the papers in Kraemer’s copy, this note wrongly states that pp. 101–04 of volume 1 were missing, but in fact they can be found after the pages of volume 2. Furthermore, there is no volume 5, pp. 21–22, which “begins abrupt[ly],” because these two pages simply belong to volume 3. However, Kraemer’s copy only has pp. 11–20 of volume 3.

7

Drewes’s sweeping overview (Drewes 1951) belongs to the same school of thought, falling into the same confirmation bias. Compare Binder (2020: 72) for similar popular and academic representations of India.

8

See also Behrend (1988: 23–25) for structural weaknesses of the colonial collections in Leiden (and Batavia/Jakarta).

9

For a brief biography of Abraham Benjamin Cohen Stuart (1825–76), see Anonymous 1917a: 496–97.

10

Sasrakusuma mentions that he wrote it around 1868 (LRP 1: 11). His adaptation also served as a kind of “rules” (pathokan) of tĕmbang versification: Mas Wirarĕja, “head teacher” (hup guru) in Ngawi, once told him that he had memorized Sasrakusuma’s narrative poem almost completely (LRP 1: 11). Jan Brandes, who does not mention the identity of the van Dorp recension, gives a full summary of it in a footnote (Brandes 1902: 264–65 n. 1). George Quinn (2013: 339), who did not know the identity of the person behind this earliest Javanese version of the Liang Zhu, hypothesized that its translator was “probably Peranakan Chinese.”

11

Suwondo and Mardianto (2001: 10) note that almost nothing is known beyond their names about anyone of the Javanese authors who published with Balai Pustaka in the pre-war period. They provide the culturalist explanation that this is due to a Javanese dislike of “showing off,” which in their view is corroborated by the alleged absence of autofiction in Javanese literature.

12

LRP 1: 3. According to his mother, the birth occurred during the “Sumawijayan tumult” in Caruban, but the year is left open in the text with dots. I was unable to identify this local rebellion in East Java. Sasrakusuma adds that his first remembrance of a “Dutch year” began in 1859, when he was “… years old” (left open in the text with dots).

13

However, Sasrakusuma mentions that he had the same wĕton as Mangkunagara IV (LRP 1: 81). The Babad Mangkunĕgara confirms Sunday Lĕgi as the birthday of Prince Mangkunagara (1809–81), which was annually celebrated at his court, and hence well-known (Sumarsam 1995: 92). Furthermore, Sasrakusuma consulted an “almanac” (almanak, LRP 2: 6) to find a good day for the wedding of his child. The date was 26 Bĕsar 1832 (LRP 2: 19), and although this is not further elucidated, it is common knowledge that the month of Bĕsar is recommended for marriage. However, apparently practical reasons also played a role for Sasrakusuma, who always seems to have been concerned with finances (a Leitmotiv of his LRP): the afternoon or evening of 26 Bĕsar 1832, which happened to be before Sunday, was considered best because the guests would have to be back in time for work in town.

14

For example, Sasrakusuma uses the phrase “around the year 1860, or when I was twelve years old” (LRP 1: 1), but there are also other references to 1848 as his year of birth, see e.g. LRP 1: 9 and LRP 1: 39.

15

See also Tony Day’s contribution in this volume about perhaps the best-known of the so-called “vagrant students’ romances,” namely the Cĕnthini.

16

For example, his personal papers, which are described in Pigeaud (1970: 121–30), contain many notes on Javanese texts and collectanea.

17

Sasrakusuma recalls in his earliest memories (see Fig. 10.2) that at the age of five, his nursemaid was carrying him in a shawl, but once, in a careless moment, he fell during a certain children’s game. Thereupon his mother “applied a means” against the consequences of the mishap by “selling” him to his aunt and “buying” him back after a few days for sixteen cents.

18

LRP 1: 38. Javanese jina is derived from Arabic zināʾ or unlawful sexual intercourse, which counts as a sin (fāḥisha) in the Qurʾan. Tilman Hannemann (2006: 17) notes that fornication “figures prominently among the most serious sins imaginable in Islamic ethics and puts into question the actual belief of the perpetrator.”

19

Sasrakusuma mentioned on the previous page (LRP 1: 37) that he was circumcised at the age of fifteen.

20

The term jinabat is an Islamic technical term (Arabic janāba or impure state of major pollution). The subsequent ablution is known as ghusl, i.e. washing of the whole of the body, which is obligatory before performing the ritual daily prayer.

21

Although some Islamic jurists have permitted masturbation to prevent zināʾ, this is not a commonly accepted view. In the Shāfiʿī law school, which is the most prevalent in Indonesia, masturbation is regarded as forbidden, see Inhorn (2012: 167ff.) for Islamic discourses on semen and masturbation. For Javanese ideas on “the spilt seed,” see Headley 2000.

22

LRP 1: 1: a. Kawula nyuwun panglindhungan ing Allah saking panggodaning Setan ingkang rinanjam. The use of the Arabic phrase aʿudhu biʾllahi min … (“I take refuge with God against …”) is known as taʿawwudh or istiʿādha (“seeking refuge”) and is well attested in the Qurʾan. Sasrakusuma also uses this term in the second volume of his LRP (2: 1), namely taawud.

23

LRP I, p. 1: b. Kaliyan nama Allah, ingkang mirah ing donya sarta asih ing akerat. This is the basmala, with which it is common to begin a writing. The first words (kaliyan nama Allah) are a literal translation of Arabic biʾsmillāh. Sasrakusuma also uses this term in the second volume of his LRP (2: 1), namely Bismillah.

24

As Nancy Florida points out, the evening/night period is common for spiritual exercises in Java, with the practical benefits of coolness and no disturbance (personal communication).

25

LRP 1: 1–2: Gusti Allah, mugi-mugi Gus- [p.2] ti Allah angapuntĕn sakathahing dosa kawula ingkang sampun kalampahan saha ingkang sawĕg kalampahan, saha ingkang dereng kalampahan. Also in the other parts of the LRP (with slight variations).

26

LRP 1: 1: Kalane anganggit layang iki, kalawan rĕsiking ati, sarta wus ora rumangsa umur limang taun maneh, awit saka rumangsa kelimputan dosa gĕdhe sarta rĕgĕding lalakon.

27

Jacobus Anne van der Chijs (1831–1905) was the first colonial Inspector of Native Education in the Dutch East Indies, who started his job in 1864, see Anonymous 1917b: 490; Brugmans 1938: 154ff. Surana, or in the older orthography (Raden Mas) Soerono, went to the Netherlands in 1874, which is mentioned in LRP (1: 74). However, Surana could not stand the Dutch climate and had to return to Java rather quickly (Dijk 1986: 17).

28

The “Brotodiningrat Affair” (called prakara Bratadiningratan in LRP 2: 35) would later occupy Sasrakusuma much more personally, when one of his children had married into the Bratadiningrat family, see LRP 2: 35ff. On February 1, 1903, it became known that Residhen Dhonĕr would resign, but all these bureaucratic problems caused Sasrakusuma to alter the date for the wedding of his child which had been planned for the month of Bĕsar, which coincided with March 1903 (LRP 2: 37).

29

Sasrakusuma writes that “thanks to Allah’s help, I was always given remembrances” (saka pitulunging Allah aku tansah kaparingan eling; LRP 4: 18). About the important idea of eling (to remember, bear in mind), see Quinn (1992: 111–21), who provides an excellent discussion about moral transgressions as “forgetting” (lali) and the (sudden) switch to “a state of moral equanimity and responsibility (eling).”

30

About the “unquestioning loyalty” among the priyayi, who after all were hand in glove with the Dutch colonial authorities, see Ricklefs 2007: 151–52.

31

Sasrakusuma repeatedly gives thanks to Allah for not having punished him with death for his many transgressions. At the beginning of LRP 2 (4), Sasrakusuma already mentions that he had feared that death because of God’s wrath would leave the first part unfinished.

32

Willem van der Molen is working on its translation, see his blog (http://www.willemvandermolen.nl/) for more background information.

  • Collapse
  • Expand