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2012/8

Mohammed Mrabet: The Lemon (181p.)

In the shadow of Ghent University’s famous book tower (its library really) Oxfam Belgium (part of Oxfam International, an international North-South NGO focusing on alleviating poverty and injustice) is operating a most pleasant bookstore, a visit to which I certainly recommend to anyone happening to be in the neighborhood. All books for sale have been arrived at through donations, and yet time and time again I’m impressed by the quality of their stock, which is on par with any of the other (commercial) outlets for used books scattered throughout Ghent (Belgium).

Long-time visitors to the Mountaintop will remember my infatuation with the great American existentialist Paul Bowles, who aptly titled his autobiography Without Stopping (haven’t read it yet but own a copy). Among the many things Bowles accomplished are a series of translations of oral stories told by Mohammed Mrabet (a painter too) in the Moghrebi language (Morocco), and guess what I found last weekend at the abovementioned Oxfam bookstore, Mohammed Mrabet’s The Lemon, in English (not one of Belgium’s three official languages), hardcover, the 1969 true first edition first print, Synchronicity Jung would have said, Synchronicity The Police would have sung, and I just smiled at the idea of this little gem making it all the way through the donation process to end up in my hands, the hands of a Bowles fan, and the likelihood of it doing so.

As can be expected, given this is a translation of an oral story, The Lemon proceeds at a fast clip, the story being more important than the language. It peters out somewhat unexpectedly at the end, and lastly it reminded me a bit of Paul Bowles’ own (and magnificent) Let It Come Down, man colliding with his (kif-induced) fate.

I left home early this morning and rode a full 4 hours, on my own, 110 kilometers at an average speed of 27.7 kilometer/hour, crossing the mighty river Schelde, the E40 motorway, and the railroad connecting Ghent with Brussels in order to get at the heart of the Flemish Ardennes, where I scaled both the Volkegemberg and the Molenberg – the latter one is part of the much talked about new track for the 2012 Tour of Flanders. On my way back I briefly stopped at the monument in honor of Wouter Weylandt, Frederiek Nolf, and Dimitri De Fauw, all three Flemish professional road cyclists who died too young, in case of Wouter Weylandt even with a baby on the way. (Alizée Weylandt was born the day before Bodhi.)

2012/2

Peter Heigl: Mystiek en Drugs (126p.)

Peter Heigl’s Mystiek en Drugs (originally Mystik und Drogenmystik – has not been translated in English) reminded me of how much I like to read non-fiction, which was my staple between 2000 and 2004, later to be replaced by fiction.

In this pleasant little book (which fell into my hands in a derelict bookstore downtown Ghent while waiting for the windshield of my car to be replaced) and after examining the evidence, Peter Heigl concludes that to the question whether psychedelics can induce genuine mystical experiences (similar to those described within the world’s major wisdom traditions) the answer is an affirmative yes, and proceeds with investigating the ethical, religious, and philosophical consequences. Naturally, such genuine mystical experiences are the exception rather than the rule (in one experiment only the experiences of 6 out of 206 participants classified), and require not only a proper dosage and setting, but most importantly a proper ‘set’ as well, i.e. for the recipient to be in the possession of a well-integrated personality structure, and an open and creative mindset already pre-disposed to religion and spirituality.

According to some sources, psychedelics are even what boosted man’s outlook from animistic to mystic/religious to begin with; otherwise said, in the psychedelic experience lies the kernel of all religious feeling and thought. The Aryans who conquered India carried Soma with them which they had gotten acquainted with in their native Central-Asian highlands, and which became a key element in Vedantic religion. As the Aryans further penetrated the Indian lowlands (where Soma didn’t grow), they developed yoga to foster the same psychological conditions (conducive to spirituality) as Soma had done before. (In a remarkable reversal, Timothy Leary much later dubbed LSD the ‘yoga of the West.’)

Sometimes here in Belgium the clouds hang so low and thick and dark over the land that in their lowness and thickness and darkness they exert a palpable and ominous physical presence on the beings underneath. As if someone strung a giant tarpaulin over Ghent and the villages sheltering in its vicinity, a malevolent shadow to be imposed at will. Between when it rained and when it didn’t rain (the day before yesterday), the roads never really dried up; toward the evening, light started filtering back in and the edge of the tarp stood out in sharp contrast against a reddening evening sky.

Hardie is reading:

Alice Leccese Powers: Spain in Mind

Doris Lessing: The Summer Before the Dark

Hardie on the road:

Kilometers season 2011-2012

3539
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