Empire of the Soul

I just finished "Empire of the Soul" by Paul William Roberts. I am left with an impression of India that lingers at the end of every personal narrative I've read about the nation: it is teaming with life. It is gleaming, and steaming, and screaming with life. But, in the midst of this apparent chaos (wrought, perhaps, by Siva himself), two simple notions persist: love and truth.

Always in these accounts of India, the author is able to pinpoint his truth. Always in these accounts of India, the author is able to pronounce deep love-- a love of the people, a love for the people. I am always left feeling like the author at the beginning of his tale: someone seeking something she can not yet define but with an inclination that it must lie in India.

"Empire of the Soul", unlike "Shantaram", is a work of complete nonfiction. Paul William Roberts visited India several times, in both the 1970s and the 1990s. He writes at times as a philosopher, as an historian, and as an outsider seeking that which lies within. He provides accounts from all over India: from Bombay to Tiruvannamalai, from Goa to Calcutta. He introduces the reader to the people he met, to the places he explored, to the obstacles he faced and usually overcame. He questions his own motives and those of the people around him, particularly Westerners apparently on their own quests. He visits holy men in his near-constant plight to understand religion for himself.

Over the course of the travelogue, the reader becomes accustomed to India. She climbs onto a camel, sees the sadhu standing on one leg for thirty years, speaks with Mother Theresa. Roberts gives his reader an almost scientific explanation of his experiences, but his lucid writing never confounds.

For those interested in India (and who crave a history lesson without a weighty textbook), Paul William Roberts has crafted a fantastic read.

Quotes from "Empire of the Soul":

The city had moved on, but the temple remained. In India, the past refuses to die, undisturbed by new realities... indifferent to God and man. (221)

Mighty opposites rule this world. In this clash of opposites, Calcutta is the most truthful city on earth, exposing all the wounds, the scars, the festering sores, the realities we in the West hide away as if they did not exist. (244)

I had never really doubted the wisdom I'd come to find and had found here I had no questions about the big issues. Even death no longer really scared me... I looked hard for what exactly did scare me. And I found it: I scared myself. Why had the wisdom my mind had absorbed so long before not moved into my heart, my body, my life? Reading a memo does not stop you starving. (326)

The reason so many wise and wonderful men and women have never ceased speaking Truth into deaf ears, I thought that dawn, is that Truth exists to bear the burden, carry the fright. It's not our problem. (350)