Word: mystical
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...also hides more mysterious secrets. While dawdling with a perfect match, the Viscount Hugh Trimmingham, she is making love to a tenant farmer, Ted Burgess. After a series of plot coincidences which seem audacious in a contemporary movie-going context, but are somewhat justified by the boy's mystic qualities, Leo becomes Mercury, the messenger of the gods, the go-between delivering letters of rendezvous from Burgess to Marion...
George Bernard Shaw once called him the most beautiful human being he had ever seen. Aldous Huxley said that listening to him was like listening to "a discourse of the Buddha." For two decades the ascetically slim, darkly handsome young mystic from India was virtually considered to be a new Messiah by members of the Order of the Star in the East, the society built around him. Then suddenly in 1929, Jiddu Krishnamurti dissolved the order and repudiated the very idea of followers. "Truth is a pathless land," he said. "And you cannot approach it by any religion, any sect...
...always so disdainful of authoritarian belief. As a poor Brahman in India, he was rigidly versed in orthodox Hindu observance. His father was not only a devout Brahman but an ardent Theosophist as well. When Krishnamurti was only 14 and already a budding mystic, he came to the attention of Annie Besant, onetime intimate of Shaw and then head of the Theosophical Society.* She adopted the young Indian and proclaimed him the incarnation, or avatar, of the "World Teacher," the divine spirit that in Hindu mythology periodically takes human form (as in Buddha) to lead men to truth. She sent...
Schechter did not back down. He replaced older members of the Sunday school committee with people who had children in the school. To the young he spoke glowingly of Eastern mysticism, even recommended that they go to hear one mystic he admires, Swami Satchitananda. He continued to speak bluntly to his Friday night audiences and, perhaps more fatally, to the trustees...
...After such knowledge, what forgiveness?" cried T.S. Eliot. At the conclusion of his bloody bloody chronicle Ouologuem does not presume to forgive either blacks or whites. But in the remarkable final chapter-having turned from historian to novelist-he turns from novelist to mystic. "Politics," he writes accusingly, "does not know the goal but forges a pretext of a goal." Negritude or colonialism, black power or white power-on these terms, history makes victims, if not slaves of us all. With a skepticism nearly as pure as faith, Ouologuem concludes: one ought to despair of men's ancient compulsion...