Review by Hans van der Kroft
This book is an extensive in-depth investigation that presupposes
a fairly thorough knowledge of Krishnamurti's life and work.
Of the work, because, as the author puts it: "lf you
want to give yourself an opportunity to understand Krishnamurti,
you must go to the source itself." Of the life, since
only those aspects of it are discussed which the author
feels are expressive of, or connected with, what he has
chosen to call K's 'inner life', by which he means those
private regions of K's life which "were rich in esoteric
happenings".
The result is an intriguing book. Inspired by K's fairly
rare and often rather vague hints about the source of his
teachings, it builds up a theory combining statements and
predictions of the early theosophists, of philosophers like
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ludwig Wittgenstein and others, with
the known facts concerning K and his teaching. In this way,
it weaves a dazzling web of amazing, alluring, suggestive
ideas about how in the 20th century a unique process of
radical regeneration was set into motion in the spiritual
world.
The author's blunt statement, in his introduction, that
"the Masters and the Lord Maitreya were realities to
K every single day of his life since he first encountered
them in his youth" may at first sight seem shocking
and rather disconcerting.
But it becomes less so when set off against what K himself
said on the subject and against the fact that there is a
world of difference between the author's interpretation
of the notion of the Masters and that of traditional conforming
Theosophy, insofar as this still exists. Mary Lutyens gave
the last chapters of the second volume of her K biography
(The Years of Fulfillment) the titles: 'Who or what is Krishnamurti?'
and 'The source of all energy'. In the end she had to admit,
however, that "a mystery remains" and that she
was "no nearer to elucidating it". K had said
to her that he himself could not delve into the source of
his teachings, but that if she found out, he would be able
to corroborate it ("I'm sure if others put their mind
to this they can do it"). He also said: "This
person [K] hasn't thought out the teaching."
In her later The Life and Death of Krishnamurti, Mary
Lutyens stated: "From K's own words one is forced to
the conclusion that he was a 'vehicle' for something and
that it was from this something that the teaching came to
him." She added: "The mystery of K would disappear
at once if one could accept the theory of the Masters taking
over the body prepared for him. Everything about 'the process'
would then fall into place. K himself did not altogether
dismiss this theory, anymore than he denied being the World
Teacher. He merely said that it was 'too concrete', 'not
simple enough', and, indeed, one feels that about it."
One might say that Aryel Sanat goes on where Mary Lutyens
felt she had reached the end of her tether. About the so-called
'mystery of K' he remarks: "While some aspects of K's
inner life we may never understand fully, those who have
written about K's life may be more willing to accept a mystery
here than is necessary. There was, indeed, in one sense
a mystery in K's life, and he spoke to friends about this
mystery on various occasions during his last two decades.
This sense of the word 'mystery' points to the sacredness
that he referred to often in his talks and writings - to
what cannot be known by the conditioned mind." He adds:
"The mystery that is the core of genuine religious
experience remains, while the mysteriousness that may surround
it can be removed. Because the latter can be removed, K
felt it was proper to investigate the source of his inner
life." Which is what Sanat subsequently - and lengthily
- starts to do. Though he does it very thoroughly, he is
not the first to make the attempt. In one of his many notes
he does indeed briefly mention the book by Peter Michel,
Krishnamurti - Love and Freedom - Approaching a Mystery.
But in no way does he acknowledge the fact that, in many
of its suppositions and conclusions, Michel's book proceeds
along the same lines he himself follows.
One of the author's important propositions is that of
making a distinction between theosophy in general - which
he also calls 'the perennial philosophy' or 'wisdom religion'-
and Theosophy, with a capital T, as taught by the Theosophical
Society. In his own words: "A distinction must be made
between Theosophy as a system of thought, and a transformative,
nondiscursive, psychological engagement in theosophy. The
system of thought called Theosophy is a recent, conceptual
outgrowth of the ancient initiatory states of awareness
identified as theosophy. In itself transformative theosophy
shuns all conditioning and therefore all thought, including
systems of thought."
Now whereas, whenever possible, he is generally very ready
to quote K as corroborating his views, here he omits to
do so. All the same, K already made this distinction in
1949 when, in Benares, he said: "Theosophy and the
Theosophical Society are two different things," adding:
"The teaching is one thing, organised religion, organised
teaching, is another." In the same talk K also connected
'theosophy' and 'wisdom', saying: "the central fact
in theosophy is divine wisdom," and "When you
say 'there is no religion higher than truth' it means the
central fact of theosophy is to find truth." And he
repeated, a little later: "the central fact of theosophy
... is wisdom and truth."
By the length of his quotations from early Theosophists,
such as H.P. Blavatsky and C.W. Leadbeater, the author risks
giving the impression that, for him, these are more important
than K's teaching. However, he emphatically makes it clear
that, as he puts it, "there is no question but that
the insights and observations of K's work are ultimately
what matter" and that "an investigation of who
K really was pales before the question of whether transformation
is taking place in one's life."Neither does he hesitate
to voice his opinion that K was what he calls "the
quintessential iconoclast of the 20th century" and
that his work "represents the best and deepest that
20th century philosophy has achieved". An interesting
remark he makes is that "K's message asks us to bring
a level of seriousness into our lives that most of us refuse
to even consider." And he adds: "This may be the
main reason why, in spite of his increasing influence in
philosophical, educational, psychological and religious
circles, he has yet to make a greater impact. Most of us
seem to want to have our cake and eat it too. We do not
want to give up a certain amusement-park attitude toward
life."
There are a few seeming contradictions in the book. Though
in one of the early chapters the author seems to adhere
to the view that the entities the Theosophists called "the
Masters" are real, living persons, later he speaks
very clearly against personalising these teachers and prefers
to characterise them as "non-conditioned states of
awareness". Then he also, slightly clumsily, gives
the impression of being in two minds about the value of
the writings of Mme Blavatsky and C.W. Leadbeater. He often
quotes them, seeming to agree completely with what they
said, but later says that they purposely presented their
insights in a conceptual, limited form.
One can discover two central points underlying the argument
of this book. The first is that when discussing the possible
source of K's teaching, or the origin of the early theosophical
writings - which the author suggests is the same thing -
one is faced with the problem of having to put into words
things which simply cannot be expressed in that way. It
is the problem of wanting to make it possible to think about
something that is beyond the limits of thought.
The second, crucial point the author makes is that, as
K has always said, a radical individual human transformation
is essential as a prerequisite for any approach to wisdom,
insight and compassion. As Sanat puts it, echoing K: "there
must be a psychological dying to the known. This means,
in part, abandoning one's identifications with a particular
culture, system of ideas, religion, and with the expectations
built up during a lifetime." He adds that, on the basis
of Blavatsky's and Leadbeater's purposely popularised writings,
"most people came to understand the perennial philosophy
as a conceptual system and a series of predetermined, repeatable
practices. Transformation and dying to the known were relegated
to mere conceptual categories, where they clearly do not
belong."
About K's break with Theosophy, the author says: "One
of the main reasons why K broke away from the Theosophists:
he came to perceive that the vast majority of Theosophists
felt themselves part of an elite. They did not seem to have
the level of commitment required to go through an initiation
in the perennial sense - that is,dying completely to the
known, including to notions of oneself as superior or inferior".
There may be those who will react to this book as though
the author's pen name were a thin disguise, in the form
of an anagram, of the name of the supreme evil spirit. Aided,
understandably, by the fact that his book was brought out
by a Theosophical publishing house, they may feel Sanat
is trying to bring K back into the fold of limited Theosophy.
They would do well to consider, however, that many, as Sanat
calls them, 'New Agers and Theosophists' may feel no less
offended by this book, as it seems to deny them the possibility
of insight, wisdom and compassion. The author endorses K's
statement that "there is a force which the Theosophists
had touched, but tried to make into something concrete.
But there was something they had touched and then tried
to translate into their symbols and vocabulary and so lost
it." As Sanat himself puts it: "before there can
be wisdom, insight and compassion, there must be the death
of all conditioning."
Perhaps the main merit of the book is that the author
has made a convincing effort to depersonalise and demythologise
the notions of the Masters and the Lord Maitreya, in this
way meeting K's expressed opinion that "the Maitreya
is too concrete" and "the Maitreya cannot manifest".
Interesting, too, is his distinction between "the esoteric
of concepts" and "the esoteric of transformation".
The first he characterises as "the esoteric of metaphysics,
systems and methods, typical of the New Age milieu",
the second, he says, is "the esoteric that has meaning
only after initiation, transformation - what K called mutation
- has taken place".
Hans van der Kroft, August 2000
[Reproduced on Alpheus with the kind permission of the
author]
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