Tag Archives: Tibetan Buddhism

Eliot Pattison Adds to the Inspector Shan Series with SKELETON GOD

How many bibliophiles do you know who anxiously await the publication of a new book in a series? The reader’s longing for the next instalment exemplifies the efficacy of narrative to expand meaning for the human experience. For often a fictional world becomes so real for the reader that she grieves when the story has ended.

That’s why I’m pleased to announce that Eliot Pattison’s 9th book in the Inspector Shan Tao Yun series was published in March. It is entitled Skeleton God (2017). Pattison’s first novel of this series, The Skull Mantra (1999), won the Edgar Allan Poe Award for Best First Novel in 2000. The series has been translated and published in over twenty languages. His work can be read on so many levels, from the cultural to the political to the spiritual. I read the Inspector Shan mysteries as fictional imaginings of lived religion in Tibet under Chinese occupation.

Here’s what readers can expect from Skeleton God:

Blurb: “In Eliot Pattison’s Skeleton God, Shan Tao Yun, now the reluctant constable of a remote Tibetan town, has learned to expect the impossible at the roof of the world, but nothing has prepared him for his discovery when he investigates a report that a nun has been savagely assaulted by ghosts. In an ancient tomb by the old nun lies a gilded saint buried centuries earlier, flanked by the remains of a Chinese soldier killed fifty years before and an American man murdered only hours earlier. Shan is thrust into a maelstrom of intrigue and contradiction.

The Tibetans are terrified, the notorious Public Security Bureau wants nothing to do with the murders, and the army seems determined to just bury the dead again and Shan with them. No one wants to pursue the truthÐexcept Shan, who finds himself in a violent collision between a heartbreaking, clandestine effort to reunite refugees from Tibet separated for decades and a covert corruption investigation that reaches to the top levels of the government in Beijing, China. The terrible secret Shan uncovers changes his town and his life forever.”

Praise for Skeleton God:

“Pattison‘s ninth installment provides an important history lesson little understood in the West with authority, nuance, and genuine suspense.” – Kirkus Reviews

“Edgar winner Pattison remains without peer at integrating a fairplay whodunit into a searing portrayal of life under an oppressive and capricious regime, as shown by his ninth Insp. Shan Tao Yun mystery. Even readers unfamiliar with the physical and cultural devastation China has wrought in Tibet will find themselves engrossed—and moved—by Pattison’s nuanced portrayal.” – Publishers Weekly *Starred Review*

 

About Eliot Pattison:

 

“An international lawyer by trade, Pattison spent many years in the backwaters of Asia, fascinated by how Buddhism shapes all aspects of people’s lives. He recently received the prestigious “Art of Freedom” award from the Tibet House, an international non-profit organization devoted to the preservation of Tibetan culture, founded by Columbia University professor Robert Thurman, actor Richard Gere and composer Philip Glass at the behest of the 14th Dalai Lama.

 

For more information on Eliot Pattison and his focus on Buddhism, visit http://eliotpattison.com/why_i_wrote_about_tibet.html

 

 

 

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CANADIAN PUBLICATION Incognito: The Astounding Life of Alexandra David-Neel by Dianne Harke (Toronto: The Sumeru Press, Inc., 2016) Reviewed by Kimberly Beek

incognitoDianne Harke’s first novel, Incognito: The Astounding Life of Alexandra David-Neel is a fictional biography that might not have been completed but for the curiosity and encouragement of John Negru, Publisher at The Sumeru Press, Inc. As Harke explained in a recent interview, Negru read the first few chapters on Wattpad and offered to publish the finished manuscript. The Sumeru Press, Inc. is one part of Sumeru Books, a Canadian publishing company that focuses on Buddhist books, art and news. It is an important hub on the Canadian Buddhism landscape: “In addition to [their] publishing activities, [they] also maintain Canada’s leading Buddhist news blog (accessible at the bottom of [the] home page), and a directory of more than 580 Canadian Buddhist organizations (www.canadianbuddhism.info).” sumeru-small-horizontalSumeru also promotes a space for Canadian Buddhism on the international cultural landscape, as evidenced in this recent letter to the editor of Tricycle Magazine, Spring 2017 entitled “Northern Neighbor Neglect.” So when John Negru contacted me about Incognito, I knew I was in for a treat.

Alexandra David-Neel was an early 20th-century French explorer, spiritual seeker and feminist who travelled throughout Asia, including Bhutan, China, India, Japan, Sikkim, Sri Lanka, and Tibet. Her journeys into sometimes dangerous areas were attempted during times of insular rule (Tibet was closed to the outside world) and times of great turmoil (such as the onset of WWI or the Second Sino-Japanese War). To move forward, Alexandra often had to travel incognito. Her adventures would have made for a good spy novel but she travelled in earnest search of various forms of enlightenment. Through her journeys and the application of her keen intellect, she became a scholar of Sanskrit, Tibetan, and Tibetan Buddhism. She was revered by lamas and tulkus and the European academy as well.

Harke’s book is not merely a straightforward biography of Alexandra’s life. An author’s note both begins and sets the tone for this special work. In the note, Harke relates that there is an invisible line between fiction and non-fiction. Even though she has done substantial research for the biography on the extraordinary life of Alexandra David-Neel, the book is a work of fiction. As support for her assertion, Harke cites Alexandra herself who advised that Tibetan authors use their imaginations to a measure that finds its equal in Western fairy tales, except that all of the “extravagant wonders that abound in their narratives” are taken as authentic events. While the subject matter of Harke’s biography may suggest that this is a book filled with imaginary adventures, it is actually the author’s writing style that pushes the work across the threshold of fiction. Harke’s rigorous research and choice of both first and third person points of view narratives simultaneously generate and situate the voice of Alexandra. The author fairly channels Alexandra to give the reader a backstage pass into the spiritual seeker’s internal and external worlds.

Were it not for Harke’s detailed research grounding this story, the life of Alexandra would be difficult to believe simply because it is so very astounding, as the title of the novel suggests. Over the course of her life and travels, Alexandra met with European and Asian dignitaries and ambassadors, befriended a Sikkim Prince, and discussed Buddhist concepts with both the Panchen Lama and the 13th Dalai Lama. These meetings helped to nurture her scholarly pursuits to learn and translate Sanskrit and Tibetan and to better understand Buddhist concepts. But her experiences travelling incognito allowed her a spiritual development which augmented her education in a way that traditional scholarship could never replicate. Harke’s first person narratives of Alexandra’s time in China, India and Nepal and subsequent journey to Lhasa, Tibet are peopled with a variety of savoury characters, from helpful shepherds and villagers to cave-dwelling hermits. In travelling incognito, Alexandra learned and lived her own version of Tibetan Buddhism. For example, she developed and used the fire of tumo, a meditative method of physiologically warming the body that was useful in the extreme conditions of the Himalayas (p. 101).  In one side adventure, Alexandra was witness to a powa recitation, the “mystic incantation” that is chanted at the deathbed of a Buddhist to assist with the transference of consciousness to the next life (p. 113). And she experienced dream yoga after an encounter with a mysterious lama who insisted that she stop travelling incognito so that she could once again wear the rosary and rings of an initiate of Tibetan Buddhism (pp. 135 – 136). The effect of the first person narratives reads like a first-hand description of lived Tibetan Buddhism during the mid-twentieth century.

There is one more success in Harke’s first novel that I wish to mention in case it is overlooked. Whether intentional or not, her renderings of the European cultural contexts behind Alexandra’s story are instructive. The glimpses into the modus operandi of the Theosophical Society gave me a sense of how Theosophy and Spiritualism dovetailed with Buddhism and Hinduism at the turn of the twentieth century. Further, the systemic Orientalism that pervaded (and still permeates) Western societies’ perspectives of the “other” are evident in the form of descriptions of Protestant Buddhism: an idea of  a “pure” Buddhism interpreted from the Pali canon that discredits and excludes any “folk ritual” and “superstition.” Orientalist representations are described in some of Alexandra’s surprised reactions to her early experiences of Buddhism outside of Europe. For example, in a scene rendered from 1891, Alexandra was in Colombo and for the first time attended a Buddhist temple only to be greeted with “a huge Buddha lacquered in a hideous canary yellow, like something in a lurid carnival. By its side supplicants had placed a package of toothpicks and a glass jar containing preserved carrots and peas. Do they really think that the Buddha nibbles pickled vegetables as he meditates? (p. 35).” Decades later, after living as a Buddhist in Tibet, her reactions to such forms of lived religion were conveyed as quite the opposite. Lastly, the juxtaposition of Alexandra’s feminism poised against European culture at the fin de siecle is played out beautifully in her patronly marriage to her husband “Mouchy” and her adoptive “parenting” of a Tibetan Buddhist lama, Yongden.

You can find Incognito: The Astounding Life of Alexandra David-Neel through Sumeru Books http://www.sumeru-books.com/dd-product/incognito-the-astounding-life-of-alexandra-david-neel/

or through Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/Incognito-Astounding-Life-Alexandra-David-Neel/dp/1896559336

Happy reading!!!

 

 

 

Karma and Mystery

I have noticed in my tracking of Buddhism and fiction that mysteries and Buddhism go well together; mystery novels with Buddhist themes and worldviews abound. Recently I was reading an interview of fiction author Susan Dunlap. The interview is entitled “Fiction is a lie that illuminates the path to compassion” (by Andrea Miller, Lion’s Roar [formerly Shambhala Sun] June 27, 2012) and in it Dunlap explains how all of her works are infused with Buddhism, how her work is Buddhist fiction. Dunlap is a mystery writer and while her Darcy Lott Mystery series reveals Buddhism most overtly, she maintains that Darcy LottBuddhism is behind all her writing because it is part of her worldview and she is “constantly weaving dharma into [her] stories.” Perhaps this is why Dunlap suggests that mysteries are a “succinct reflection of the Buddhist concept of karma,” because for a mystery to work, the victim of the mystery has “done something to set in motion the wheel of karma in their lives.” Further, Dunlap says that the detective who is trying to solve the mystery is looking for what is real. Isn’t this what the Buddha was doing under the bodhi tree?

Given this relationship between karma and mystery, readers of Buddhist fiction may not be surprised at the suggestion that the ultimate detective, Sherlock Holmes, acquired his best training during “the missing years.” In Arthur Conan Doyle’s work The Adventure of the Empty House, Holmes explains to Watson that after his plunge over the Reichenbach Fall with Moriarty: “I travelled for two years in Tibet, therefore, and amused myself by visiting Lhassa and spending some days with the head Llama. You may have read of the remarkable explorations of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but I am sure that it never occurred to you that you were receiving news of your friend” (Arthur Conan Doyle. The Complete Sherlock Holmes (Knickerbocker Classics). New York, NY: Race Point Publishing, 2013, p. 610).

Author Jamyang Norbu attempts to fill in the two year gap with Sherlock Holmes: The Missing Years (2001, earlier published as The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes, 1999). Norbu is a Tibetan political activist and writer. He lived in India as a Tibetan-in-exile for over 40 years before moving to the United States. Missing YrsHis Sherlock Holmes pastiche begins on the front flap of the book duster, where the publisher informs the reader that Jamyang Norbu merely discovered the story, carefully wrapped in a rusting box. When he opened the box he was greeted with an account of Sherlock Holmes’ adventures from India to Tibet as described by none other than Huree Chunder Mookerjee, the fictional spy who worked for t he English in Kim by Rudyard Kipling. Mookerjee travels with Holmes as he is subsumed into the “Great Game” and then onward to further Tibetan adventures. Apparently the novel suggests that Holmes’ already exceptional powers of observation were heightened and improved by what he learned about Buddhism from his time in Tibet and with the Lama.

JapanThere is also a current series of pastiches based on Holmes’ “great hiatus”. Bangalore author Vasudev Murthy has thus far written two books as part of his Sherlock Holmes, The Missing Years series: Japan (2015) and Timbuktu (2016). According to the Amazon blurb, Japan includes monks as characters, but I am unsure if Murthy’s narratives intersect with Buddhism to any extent.

I haven’t read any of these Sherlock Holmes pastiches but would like to hear from anyone who has. I would like to know if the world’s most iconic fiction detective honed his skills through knowledge of Buddhism or any form of Buddhist practice. If so, how do the “missing years” align Buddhist practices of awareness and mindfulness with Holmes’ powers of scientific observation? Drop me a line and let me know.

 

 

 

Interview with Roland Merullo by Chris Beal

Roland Merullo (Rolandmerullo.com) is the author of sixteen books, two of which are particularly of interest to readers of Buddhist Fiction. BREAKFAST WITH BUDDHA (Algonquin, 2008)), previously reviewed here (https://buddhistfictionblog.wordpress.com/tag/spiritual-travelogue/), is currently in its fifteenth printing and has been translated into Korean and Croatian. Merullo’s latest, LUNCH WITH BUDDHA (AJAR Contemporaries, 2012), is a sequel to BREAKFAST, and picks up on middle-aged, upper-middle-class food book editor Otto Ringling’s sometimes reluctant journey into spirituality and his relationship with the Buddhist teacher Volya Rinpoche, who has now become his brother-in-law. (Note that it is not necessary to read BREAKFAST in order to enjoy LUNCH although doing so may result in a richer experience.)

Chris Beal:  For those who haven’t read it, could you describe LUNCH WITH BUDDHA in a nutshell?

Roland Merullo: It is, like BREAKFAST, another road-trip book, a look at America, at spirituality, at food and landscape and the interior life.  It begins with the whole family together in Seattle, and then, after an event I don’t want to describe here, Otto and Rinpoche head east in an old pickup truck and make their way across Washington State, Idaho, Montana and a bit of Wyoming, having various adventures along the way, talking, eating, meeting characters.

For those who haven’t read BREAKFAST, that book is a New Jersey-to-North Dakota road trip taken by the same characters. LUNCH is the next stage on that evolution, with Rinpoche bringing Otto deeper into the interior life, and Otto showing Rinpoche more and more of the American landscape and culture.

CB:  I find Rinpoche, with his eccentric mix of human foibles and profundity, to be an extremely engaging character.  He’s also the source of most of the humor in this tale as well as in its predecessor.  How did you come up with the idea for him?  Did you know someone like this or is he purely a work of imagination?

RM:  He’s a mixture of spiritual teachers I have seen, taken retreats with, and imagined.  There’s a little of the Dalai Lama in him, a little of the Tibetan master, Sogyal Rinpoche, a bit of the late Zen master Soehn Sahn.  I went on brief retreats with the latter two, and found them to be very funny, engaging, impressive men.  But in Rinpoche I take that to another level, and have him do things that those teachers might not do.  In part, the book grew out of a magazine piece I read probably thirty years ago, the account of the Dalai Lama’s first trip to America.  One of his hosts was aghast that people had arranged for him to go to Disneyland, but the Dalai Lama enjoyed himself, went with the flow, with good humor, kindness, without judgment.  I wasn’t even interested in Buddhism then, but it impressed me so much to have a great spiritual leader with that kind of sense of humor about things.

CB:  How did you learn about the obscure branch of Siberian Tibetan Buddhism to which the Rinpoche belongs?  Did you choose it because it attracted you in some way or just because its obscurity gave you some freedom to play with the doctrine a bit?

RM:  It’s made up.  I know a bit about Tibetan Buddhism, Dzogchen especially, but I’m the last thing from a scholar.  I used my intuitive understanding of those teachings, but I chose this made up lineage because I did not want to be limited to the factual teachings of any one group.  One thing I love about Buddhist teachers is how they incorporate and respect the teachings of other faiths.  They will mention Christ, for example, though very few Christian teachers mention Buddha with the same respect.

CB:  But I researched whether there was a branch of Tibetan Buddhism in Siberia, and it turned out to exist. This is an amazing coincidence.  But if you didn’t know about it, of course it was made up for purposes of the novel.

RM:  I should have been more clear about that.  I did work in the USSR for almost three years between 1977 and 1990, and did once take the Trans-Siberian railroad, which passes through a place called Skovorodino.  And I did know that there were some Buddhist enclaves.  So that was in my thoughts when I was writing and having Rinpoche come from Russia.  But [the lineage] Ortyk is made up….unless by some weird coincidence it is also real.  

CB:  One purpose of the book seems to be to encourage people ask themselves questions about what is really important in their lives. Could you say something about the role of humor in accomplishing this purpose?

RM:  Religion is a tricky subject.  It’s especially tricky for someone like me, who has zero credentials.  I’m not a preachy type, in real life, and do not want to go anywhere near preaching to or trying to convert my readers. Humor helps with that.  The big questions are so big, and they can be so serious, literally matters of life and death and afterlife, that, I think, if you don’t approach them with humor the results can be awful.  I am trying to “provoke” people to consider things, but I’m not pushing anyone anywhere beyond that, and if the characters and story don’t work, then the ideas will fall flat.

CB:  The book suggests that communicating with the dead is possible. Have you yourself had any experiences in contacting the dead?  Can you talk a little about how you see this kind of communication?

RM:  No, I haven’t, but I do have friends who feel they have had some communication with lost loved ones.  And it is just very hard for me to believe that we form these deep attachments to certain people in this life, and then they end forever when one or both die.  Part of what I am trying to do in Breakfast and LUNCH (and now DINNER, which I am writing), is to counter what I see as the excessively materialistic views held by most of us in American/Western society.  I don’t mean materialistic in the usual sense–wanting things–but in the sense of believing only in the material, the measurable, the tangible.  It seems obvious to me that there is more going on, and while that other dimension of things can be the territory of the flaky and false, I think there is truth to it.  I think there is some connection that death doesn’t sever, and I wanted Otto to feel that in this book.

CB:  Certain plot elements are never developed in LUNCH:  the possibility of harm coming to Shelsa, the possibility that she is an incarnate Buddha, the menace posed by the hate groups.  Did you intend to set up these plot elements for further development in DINNER?

RM:  I don’t plan much, don’t outline, just write by the seat of my pants, by intuition, trying to have fun as I go.  But in DINNER, I am wrestling with some of those elements, how much to pursue or abandon them. It’s tricky business because the heart of these books is the spiritual evolution of Otto, and I don’t want to turn them into thrillers.  At the same time, I like to introduce something new in each book so I am not just playing the same song over and over again.

CB:  To what extent are Rinpoche’s views on spirituality your own?  Are there any ways in which they are not your own? If the answer is yes to the latter question, why did you decide to give him views that differ from yours?

RM:  They are mostly my own.  He is wiser and deeper than I am, and he lacks some of my flaws and troubles.  I have tried to put some of me into Otto for that reason, though Otto is very different than I am in many respects.  When Rinpoche says something in his teachings, those are things I have thought and wondered about myself, or read or heard from great masters. I try to be careful with that material, try not to simply mimic what I’ve heard, but also try not to have him say something that will be misleading to true spiritual seekers.  It’s a fine line sometimes.  I feel a responsibility to the truth, as I perceive it, especially in spiritual matters.  And while I joke about it in the book, at the same time, I take seriously what I have him say.  If it doesn’t work in my own life, or if it feels “off” somehow, then I won’t have him say it.

CB:  I believe I read that you meditate.  Is it a particular type of practice?  Are you affiliated with any particular spiritual group?

RM:  No.  No specific group.  It’s a hybrid meditation that grew out of a Catholic upbringing, some Buddhist reading and retreats.  It’s been an almost daily practice for 30 some years.  I start with a Hail Mary and an Our Father, sometimes do a little tonglen, the Tibetan giving-and-taking meditation, then try just to rest as quietly as I can.  I like Dzogchen because it seems simple, without a lot of visualizations and tricks.  I just watch the thoughts and try to return to some word, idea, or image, and occasionally have moments of calm.  In general, it has helped me tremendously.  Not that I have any great visions–I don’t–but it has helped me with anger and depression and other tough parts of life that I experienced more when I was younger.  Still a long long ways to go to get free of all the negative emotions, but it has helped me so much.

I’ve had a lot of physical challenges in my life–broken back, back surgery, back spasms, psoriatic arthritis, shingles, etc. etc. etc.  And meditation is so helpful with those kinds of things.  My wife and I were married 18 years without having children and I made retreats then.  Since the children have come into our lives, I try to stay home, but when they are grown I will certainly do more retreats. I’ve done Catholic, Christian, Buddhist (Tibetan, Zen), Protestant, non-denominational. It all feels about the same to me–an unplugging from the usual run of worries and thoughts.

CB:  Do you feel you have developed spiritually in the years since you wrote BREAKFAST?  If so, how was that development reflected in LUNCH?

RM:  I think we always develop.  Bringing up children, being married for a long time, suffering, traveling, meditating, writing, dealing with the ups and downs of life–all those things have contributed to my own spiritual evolution.  I think that happens for every single soul on this planet.  But I think if you pay attention to that, if you meditate, for example, or have some other practice, then the effect, the benefit of those experiences, spiritually, is heightened.  In LUNCH I wanted to touch upon what happens to a person who loses a loved one.  I have friends in that situation.  What happens spiritually?  What are the challenges?  How does one experience and deal with grief?   The trick was to have all that in a book with humor in it.  But I do see, even in friends who have lost spouses, that humor eventually resurfaces.  One never forgets, the pain is not erased, but I do think humor and hope resurface after a time.

CB:  Is there anything else that you’d like readers or potential readers to know about LUNCH WITH BUDDHA or about the way you work as a writer?

RM:  I think it is an upbeat and hopeful book, despite a strain of real sadness. The way I work is to write about what I care about, what I’m thinking about.  I try to put something good into the world, to entertain, yes, but also to provoke–not in the sense of upsetting people, but in the sense of encouraging readers to think about something they might not have thought about, or to pursue something they have thought about from a different angle.  In a sense, my writing is extremely personal. I don’t write at arm’s length, in a scholarly or particularly cerebral way.  I want my books to be engaging, entertaining, thought-provoking, fun, carefully written, the kind of book you might read a second or third time.  I feel like I just tap into some source–I don’t mean this in any mystical or special way–and take that and put it on the page.

CB:  Well, you have certainly succeeded in doing this. Thank you so much for writing such thought-provoking and at the same time entertaining books.