The Dedalus Meyrink Reader

by Gustav Meyrink

  The second striking aspect is that my instructions were not transferred to my fiancée’s thoughts in exactly the way I had intended. If that had been the case, it would have all gone wrong. Instead, she acted correctly, let us say from instinct; in a way she corrected my plan. Another oddity is that when she woke up on the sofa, she wasn’t immediately aware of what she should do. It looks as if the thoughts that had been transferred were first of all processed inside her, below the threshold of consciousness. Does that not suggest that many of the things that ‘occur’ to us and impel us to act are completely alien in origin, while we imagine we are the ones who decide whether to act or not? In the magnificent Indian epic, the Bhagavadgita, that must go into greater detail about yoga than any other book, it says, ‘Every deed that happens here, happens through nature’s law. “I am the doer of this deed,” is vain and idle prattle.’A pity the book is not read in school, young people would derive far more profit from it than what is intended by making them read the Iliad.

  In my opinion the incident I have described is a case of telesuggestion similar to what happens in the physical realm with radiotelegraphy. It employed the contents of the imagination of the receiver, that is the belief, either hereditary or impressed on her since childhood, that an ‘apparition’ must always be clothed in white.

  The process of thought transfer such as that described above presupposes the existence of an organ in human beings which enables the telegraphy to take place. Which organ is it? Are there in fact two organs, one the antenna and the other the receiver? Given our present state of knowledge, it is impossible to answer that question. The Theosophists say (they clearly picked the idea up somewhere, probably in India) that the pineal gland in the brain is the organ that performs both functions. I cannot help feeling that it is the heart that is the transmitter. Whenever in an experiment I succeeded in capturing thoughts that had been sent to me, I had the definite feeling the process was taking place in my brain and it was as if I were producing the thought myself. From that I concluded that the receiving organ must be the cerebral cortex and not the pineal gland. It has always seemed odd to me that in anatomy the cerebral cortex has the strange Latin name pia mater. I have still not managed to find who invented this term but it was obviously — or probably — the same person as the one who christened the lower section of the spinal cord the sacral plexus.10 It would be worth getting to the bottom of this, as it could possibly be a key to the system and origin of the method of the abovementioned Shabhavas, which is closely connected with Hatha Yoga. The Shabhavas base their method on written records called Agamas, which are said to be much older than the Vedas, though our scholars maintain that the Agamas are a much later product of the human mind and show evidence of degeneration due to the ‘superstition’ they contain. I cannot get over the suspicion that such scholars are only too happy to present something — unchecked — as showing signs of degeneration simply because it contains things which they do not understand or which do not fit in with their ideas. To me the Agamas seem to be the ruins of txt]ancient secret knowledge, long since distorted and half forgotten. It is indisputable that traces of the Agamas are contained in Mahayama Buddhism and it is possible that they derive from the ancient Tibetan Bhon religion and with that from Central China. From what I have heard, the latest research in this area confirms what I have always instinctively assumed.

  The Agamas teach that there are seven centres of perception and receptivity to magic in the human organism. A particularly boneheaded Indian ass with a materialist outlook, the ‘Reformer’ Dayananda, refused to take that on trust and, determined to find out whether it was true or not himself, cut up a corpse with a butcher’s knife. And, lo and behold, he found nothing. — Who’s that laughing? Are there blockheads like that over here too? — These centres, which are called chakras or lotuses, are said to be situated in the spinal cord, the lowest in the sacral plexus (!), the highest above the crown of the head (!!). (Dayananda, God rest his soul, did not find that either; he probably forgot to cut open the air above the corpse.) The Reverend Leadbeater, a highly dubious gentleman and current head of the Theosophical Society, brought the Agamas, which would hardly have been known over here until then, to Europe. Since he did not name the source, his unsuspecting disciples took them as Leadbeater’s home-grown wisdom, which renewed their faith as adepts in him. Dr Rudolf Steiner, the founder of the Anthroposophical movement, brought them to Germany. Whether he knew the source, I could not say. The Shabhavas use the doctrine solely to leave their bodies. They do this by first of all concentrating their thoughts on the lowest nerve plexus, then, after they have had certain visions which tell them that the first stage is complete, they move up to the next chakra and so on until they break through the skull and are out in the open. As an outward sign of the final success of the experiment, the body falls into rigor mortis. Reading this, one cannot help thinking that it must be nothing more than a complicated, if probably also very practical method of initiating and carrying through a process of autosuggestion. The hatha yogis, who base themselves on the Pradipika and not on the Asama books, are also familiar with this process; they call it ‘drawing up the kundalini’ (power of the snake). It is probably through a superficial understanding of this word that the snake charmers of Asia and Egypt hit upon the idea of training vipers for public entertainment. The Buddha says somewhere, ‘I draw a finer body out of my body, just as a child draws the juicy stalk out of the coarser exterior.’ He too obviously knew and practised the procedure!

  The Shabhavas claim one has different visions according to which chakra one is concentrating on. One of the first visions, they say, is to think one is riding up into paradise on a white horse. Since, as is well known, Mohammad also had the same experience, one could well assume that the corresponding chakra in his body — perhaps through a lesion of the spinal cord caused by a fall, possibly by the epilepsy he suffered from — was ‘brought to life’. A Shabhava would hardly have set himself up as a prophet if that had happened to him, but, of course, Mohammad had not been initiated in the Agamas, he was just a theist.

  It does not sound very likely that purely external injuries to the spine could cause people to see visions and, looked at superficially, it is grist to the mill of those who incline to a mechanistic view of the world. But it does seem occasionally to be the case. A friend of mine, a keen footballer and a materialist to the point of absurdity, received such a violent kick in the back during a game in Birmingham that he was in severe pain for months. He told me — and he is an extremely truthful person — that soon afterwards he started to have strange hallucinations. Especially at night when he was walking through deserted streets, he saw female figures shrouded in white who were so clear he often wondered if they were people dressed up in costume. They blocked his way and most of the time he spread his arms and pushed himself into the walls of the buildings. When I asked him what had gone through his mind when he saw these apparitions, he gave the, for me, significant, answer: ‘Nothing.’ I suspect that it was not the physical injury that produced the visions, but a mental process. Anyone who has pain in one particular place in their body will automatically think of that place; that is, they will in a way be carrying out the same concentration of thought as a Shabhava does in a conscious and purposeful manner.

  Therese Neumann from Konnersreuth, who has recently become widely known as a stigmatic, sustained curvature of the spine from carrying heavy loads and suffered from it for a long time, perhaps even still does, I couldn’t say. One day the mysterious process of crucifixion began, repeating itself every Friday with blood coming from her eyes and the wounds on her hands. Moreover she has not taken any food for a long time, allegedly for a whole year. That kind of thing is said of Catholic saints. It is, of course, possible that one day Frau Neumann will be ‘exposed’ whether with good reason or not is neither here nor there, ‘they’ very often expose things that don’t fit in with their ideas, but that doesn’t mean the hundreds of authenticated cases of th
is type never happened. Devout people will see the ‘Therese Neumann case’ as a miracle, or even as proof that Jesus of Nazareth really was crucified. Someone who practises yoga will say it is a symptom of one or the other chakra being brought to life. He would even say — at least, I would say it, even though I am not a Shabhava: The deeper significance of the Biblical story of the crucifixion, no matter whether it actually took place or not, is similar to that of Mohammad riding to paradise on Berrak, the white horse. (Don’t hesitate to accuse me of impiety, if you like. However, it is not impiety if I express my opinion so frankly.)

  In the course of my extensive study of all kinds of books, which I pursued with particular assiduity in my younger years, I came across a volume entitled Der Schlüssel zur Geisterwelt (The Key to the Spirit World11) written in the middle of the last century by a man called Kerning. The writings of this man, whose real name was Krebs and who was a tenor and a Freemason, are completely unknown to scholars investigating the history of mysticism, even though he was a man of whom posterity will definitely take note. Kerning’s books are deliberately written in such a way that the layman cannot but think the author was a child or weak in the head. Kerning’s teaching or, to be more precise, hints, are so clearly reminiscent of the doctrine of the chakras, that one could believe he had studied the Agamas. In his day, however, that was completely impossible, since no one in the Western countries had even heard of the Agamas. Moreover Kerning himself gives his source: the Freemasons’ ritual! Just as certain letters play an important, mysterious role in the doctrine of the chakras and their awakening, they do so in the ritual of the Freemasons as well. As far as I know, no one has ever given an interpretation of them, at least not an acceptable one. Kerning claims to have discovered how to use them in order to bring about what I call the ‘transformation of the blood’: one has to murmur them to oneself, like a litany! That is, he prescribes a similar way to my late guide, J…! Remarkable! J… could neither read nor write, knew nothing of Kerning when he started out, and despite that hit upon the same system ‘by himself’. This clearly contradicts the generally accepted explanation for such happenings, namely that knowledge can only be transmitted by word of mouth or by reading the records. Knowledge whose preservation is important for mankind and for its progress can perhaps lie hidden for a thousand years, but it cannot be erased. Some‘where’ and somehow the seed will be preserved and will sprout and flower when the time is come. Let militaristic fools and fanatics such as Calif Omar, who set fire to the library of Alexandria and destroyed it because: ‘If the books say the same as the Koran, they are superfluous; if they say something different, they are pernicious’, continue with their furious assaults on shadows on the wall. All they will do is leave a shameful memorial to themselves; the light cannot be extinguished, it lives on in our blood.

  Among his many books, Kerning wrote one called Testament.12 I edited it many years ago under the pseudonym of Kama, Arch Censor of the Royal Oriental Order of the Sat B’hai (a very interesting, but equally sterile occult secret order I belonged to at the time). Kerning had bequeathed the manuscript to the father of my late friend, Count Leiningen-Billighausen, who gave it to me. The content of this book is exceedingly significant and instructive for anyone with practical involvement in yoga, but also very dangerous. When I made it publicly available, I was not aware of this danger, otherwise I would never have had it printed. Fortunately it has more or less sunk without trace; I can’t even remember who published it. Like the Hatha Yoga Pradipika, it teaches breathing exercises, only in a much more profound — and perhaps even completely wrong — way!

  Since Kerning had no other source available than the Freemasons’ ritual, it seems obvious that that must contain an ancient esoteric doctrine, which is a closed book to present-day Freemasons. Following that up might might yield some interesting results for a competent researcher. Even the most intensive searches for the origins of Freemasonry have not gone back more than a few hundred years. Up to the present the legend that it is immeasurably old has remained just that: a legend.

  Kerning was a theist, but of a more subtle nature than other mystics. He was spared ecstasies and transports throughout his life. On the other hand he was a metaphysician through and through and regarded such things as clairvoyance as perfectly natural processes in which he was convinced one could train oneself. His system, which is almost always only hinted at and, probably intentionally, never clearly described, can be summarised in a few words roughly as follows: a person’s innermost being (probably the ‘other’ Coué talks about) only speaks to the outer person through vague presentiments, a sense of approaching danger, instinct and so on. Never, or rarely and then only in people who have the gift from birth, through direct speech. The consequence is that we are often — mostly even — led astray, for we frequently experience a feeling of anxiety, brought on by physical discomfort, and then wrongly interpret it as a warning. Such ‘deception’ by feeling is, I am sure, the reason why over the centuries mankind has turned away from instinct, as if it were a will-o’-the’wisp leading us astray. Very much to our disadvantage! We have kept away from dangerous marshes but exchanged them for the arid, stony ground of an all-too-sober, unsatisfying rational life.

  Kerning wanted to put an end to the uncertainty of vague feelings; he said this could only be done if one could create an infallible means of communication between the outer and the inner person (today we call this inner person the subconscious). This would develop spontaneously, he went on, if one murmured certain letters — eleven if I remember rightly — or, especially, the word ‘I’, to oneself for long enough. (In Vedic writings it says that anyone who has murmured the sacred syllable Om so many billion times will be rewarded with ‘release’.) By this, Kerning says, our inner being will learn step by step to speak in words, removing the need for transfer by feeling and replacing it with a more reliable method. He called it ‘the inner word’ just like my former ‘guide’.

  His breathing exercises were aimed at achieving union with the cosmos; it would speak, he maintained, to anyone who had mastered the exercise.

  The Hatha Yoga Pradipika discusses breathing, something our medical science has ignored to this day. In the Pradipika it says that as long as a person breathes alternately through the right and left nostril, he will remain an ordinary mortal subject to an inevitable karma; in that respect then, his will is not free! If, on the other hand, he succeeds in forcing his breath into the susumna — the spinal cord! — then he will become free, omniscient and a magician of high degree who can accomplish everything he wishes. (Since Raja Yoga expressly demands that every selfish wish must have been burnt long before, one might think such omnipotence must be pathetic. However, Raja Yoga clearly takes it for granted that there is a central ‘I’ that absorbs all the monads at the end of their way to Him, transforming every individual wish into a single one.) The present yogis of India and Tibet take this forcing of the breath into the spinal cord literally; they force themselves to hold their purely physical breath until they fall unconscious or, to put it more precisely, into a trance. Anyone can discover what a horrendous effort it takes to achieve this simply by trying it themself. First of all, I was told, sweat appears, then foam forms on one’s skin and, finally, levitation occurs. I got as far as the formation of foam and no farther.

  For many years I believed that pranayama (the technical Indian expression for breath control) was simply a recipe that had to be followed physically, word for word. Even today I do not doubt that used in that way it will produce astonishing results — in the mediumist, spiritualist area, I imagine, for observation of the mediums with whom I came into contact showed every time that their breathing was disturbed as soon as they fell into a trance. The way to true salvation is certainly not through simply holding one’s breath. Trance is the separation or tearing apart of consciousness and not the ‘union’ indicated in the very word ‘yoga’; it is a step in the wrong direction! In the Raja Yoga compendium, Patanjali, which I menti
oned earlier, the path goes in the opposite direction, not starting out from breathing as the cause, but from mental concentration. Once that is profound enough samadhi, a state of rapt absorption, is attained and as a consequence breathing stops of its own accord.

  In 1914 I was visited by a young Brahmin who knew a lot about yoga but had also received a European education having studied in Oxford. When I asked him what his opinion of pranayama was, I was surprised to hear him say that air from the atmosphere could, indeed, get into the spinal cord if it could find no way out of the tightly closed lungs. When I objected that that was an anatomical impossibility, he merely shrugged his shoulders. Even if he is right, I believe it can never be ordinary air; possibly the absorption of oxygen in the lungs leads to the release of one of the recently discovered noble gases, for example helium or argon or one still unknown, which then penetrates the spinal cord? That is just a guess, of course, though there is some possible support for my arbitrary assumption in the fact that the Indian word prana means not only breath but also ‘life force’.

  What Lall — that was the name of my Indian friend — said made such an impression on me, especially since he assured me it came from the lips of a genuine yogi, whom he had found after a long search, that I decided to take up the Hatha breathing exercises I had broken off in my youth. I found that I still could not manage to hold my breath for more than two and a half minutes. I was about to give up the exercises when one day I had a strange experience: I was already sweating from the incredible exertion of trying to keep holding my breath for three minutes when the horrific ‘death shudder’ started. Unable to hold my breath any longer, I tried to breathe out. For a moment I had a remarkable lightness of feeling and to my great astonishment I could not breathe out, but had to breathe in! The air in my chest had disappeared completely. As if it had been sucked in or absorbed by other organs. But my thorax had not sunk at all, as one would have expected, but was blown up or, rather, was pressing out as at the beginning. I was so astonished by the phenomenon that for a moment I almost lost control of my senses. Presumably as a result of this inner turmoil, nothing further happened, except that I breathed in, as if gripped by a convulsion, and thus somehow, in a way I was not aware of, released the bizarre tension in my thorax.