fawning questions； would give me a dismissive response； and that he was
presently in the midst of forgetting who I was altogether。
“There is no single measure that can distinguish the great miniaturist from
the unskilled and faithless one；” he said in all seriousness。 “This changes with
time。 Yet the skills and morality with which he would face the evils that
threaten our art are of significance。 Today； in order to determine just how
genuine a young painter is； I’d ask him three questions。”
“And what would they be？”
“Has he e to believe； under the sway of recent custom as well as the
influence of the Chinese and the European Franks； that he ought to have an
individual painting technique； his own style？ As an illustrator； does he want to
have a manner； an aspect distinct from others； and does he attempt to prove
this by signing his name somewhere in his work like the Frankish masters？ To
determine precisely these things； I’d first ask him a question about ”style‘ and
“signature。”“
“And then？” I asked respectfully。
“Then； I’d want to learn how this illustrator felt about volumes changing
hands； being unbound； and our pictures being used in other books and in
other eras after the shahs and sultans who’d missioned them have died。
This is a subtle issue demanding a response beyond one’s being simply upset
or pleased by it。 Thus； I’d ask the illustrator a question about ”time‘—an
illustrator’s time and Allah’s time。 Do you follow me； my child？“
Nay。 But that’s not what I said。 Instead； I asked； “And the third question？”
“The third w