And There Was Light (Lusseyran)

Now and then the flood of fractured happenstance curves a little aside, and there floating on its crest is a thing so beautiful that there is very little to say. You can describe it perhaps, you can summarize, but all your accounting cannot stretch around the object you describe. Nothing you can say will explain why it is lovely. And so, to keep it whole, it is best to say nothing. Only show where it is and then let it describe itself.

Read the book, if you have any curiosity. I will not introduce it because it is too far above me to be sketched with my words. But let me say this: the book gave me a thirst for fire and a yearning for the bright darkness described by its blind author. It painted the strength of kindness and the wisdom of faith. I felt lighter and more full because I read it. If I could find a stronger recommendation I would give it also.

A sample:

"And now, in conclusion, why has this Frenchman from France written this book in the United States to present to his American friends today? Because today he is America's guest. Loving the country and wanting to show his gratitude, he could find no better way of expressing it than in these two truths, intimately known to him and reaching beyond all boundaries.

The first of these is that joy does not come from outside, for whatever happens to us it is within. The second truth is that light does not come to us from without. Light is in us, even if we have no eyes."

The Anatomy of Peace (Arbinger Institute)

Someone was reading this book on the bus a few years ago and I was intrigued. Later I heard it was written by the Arbinger Institute and was less intrigued. Their book Leadership and Self-Deception presented some sound ideas but was irritating to read. It was an idea book masquerading as a novel. Philosophy wrapped around a fictional framework that pretends to be a story but is really an obedient usher . . . Something about that gets up my nose. The Anatomy of Peace resorts to the same sad tactic. It's still worth reading, but that doesn't make it a joyful undertaking. Ignoring the eerily complicit characters, then, here are some of the more engaging thoughts:

• Saladin was a great military leader because of his compassion and respect for his enemies.
• Conflict often becomes collusion as both parties cooperate to maintain a mutual antagonism.
• Normally we assume that conflict is best resolved by forcing the other side to change, which is why conflict persists.
• In any situation we may choose to see those around us as objects or as people with a worth equal to our own.
• One way to influence someone you want to help is to form relationships with people who are important to that person.

Perhaps the most satisfying section was the page about Rene Descartes. I don't like that man. He was the one behind "Cogito ergo sum," or "I think therefore I am." From this foundation he argued entities that could not display an adequate complexity of thought were not in possession of a soul. It was a short, slithering sidestep from there to animal vivisection. Apparent pain in something that doesn't have a consciousness of self must be counterfeit. So he reasoned. Ugh.

The philosopher Martin Heidegger disagrees with Descartes. His counterargument is outlined on pages 78 and 79 of The Anatomy of Peace. To summarize, Descartes formulated his thoughts and his theory using borrowed language. Perhaps he existed, but entities outside himself donated the tools with which he built his proof. That he existed was true, but more important was that he existed with others. What is the self without the fact of non-self? The most fundamental principle of being is not the individual but the individual as he relates to others. Tolerance of the dry and contrived plot extracted a large payment in units of patience, but these pages alone justify my expenditure.

A sample:

"A contemporary of Heidegger named Martin Buber, whom I mentioned this morning, agreed with Heidegger that way of being in the world is what is most fundamental to human experience. He observed that there are basically two ways of being in the world: we can be in the world seeing others as people or we can be in the world seeing others as objects. He called the first way of being the I-Thou way the the second the I-It way, and he argued that we are always, in every moment, being either I-Thou or I-It -- seeing others as people or seeing others as objects."

Think and Grow Rich (Hill)

This one is supposed to be a classic, a landmark book. The dust jacket says it set the standard for motivational thinking, which is currently something of an epidemic. It was published back in 1938 and it's still kept in stock at Chapters. Either this book panders to the vanity of man in a way not duplicated since, or it has something important to say. You know those recurrent books? The ones you never read but see everywhere, hear about constantly? Napoleon Hill's best seller has been chipping away at me for the last five years. I gave in reluctantly. It sat on my shelf for several months after I bought it.

I wish I had read the thing sooner. Some of it is weirdness incarnate (An entire chapter on "The Mystery of Sex Transmutation"? Really? But why?) but some of it is gloriously illuminating. It is a book about desire and obsession, faith and revelation, hallucination and reality. There are chapters devoted to decision, persistence, think tanks, and social graces. It touches on dozens of topics (including telepathy, the American Constitution, and choosing a spouse) while staying in tight orbit around the main theme, which is, say it with me now . . .

No. Not money. Mr. Hill has a distinctly mercenary tone; he returns to wealth as the supreme object again and again. But these principles are not limited to the accumulation of a staggering fortune. You could pick them up and point them at anything. Probably you could say the book is about success, but I don't know about that either. For me it was a handbook on the method of making thoughts powerful, entities that do more than just flutter about and then collapse like ancient tissue butterflies. It was a call to take risks and explore the sharp, swiftly moving, brightly flashing whirlwind that lives in your head. It was a challenge and a rebuke. It said that you get from life what you demand from life, so why not demand something extraordinary?

I am a mouse. I do not make demands. I make half formed requests in a wispy voice with my face hidden in my hands while beginning the shuffling retreat. Creeping through life is not rewarding or exciting, so this year I am conducting an experiment. I am going to follow Napoleon Hill's advice and deliberately cultivate an obsession. It might be another way of choosing madness or it might be an escape from the madness that is fear.

A sample:

"Gandhi wielded more potential power than any man living in his time, and this despite the fact that he had none of the orthodox tools of power, such as money, battleships, soldiers and materials of warfare. Gandhi had no money. He had no home. He didn't even own a suit of clothes but he did have power. How did he come by that power? He created it out of his understanding of the principle of faith, and through his ability to transplant that faith into the minds of 200 million people."