I had never heard of René Daumal before this. This book, essentially, was an accident for me. I stumbled across it on Wikipedia late one night in relation to Jodorowsky's The Holy Mountain and, finding the brief synopsis interesting, made it my goal to give the book a shot. Such random occurrences, in my experience, have always proven quite fruitful.The trick, of course, is that Daumal died before the book was finished, rendering the work somewhat incomplete and almost impervious to review. One can't criticize the ending for obvious reasons. One might not even be able to properly critique the contents of what's left, seeing as how they may not have had the opportunity for intended refinement before hitting the presses. All one can really do is somehow quantify what's left with an eye on cautious speculation, and this much while trying to not spoil too much of the content therein.Compounding this fact is the size of this theoretical "what's left." Having grown use to Kafka, the idea of reading through an unfinished novel wasn't new or a detriment to my decision. When the book arrived, though, I was surprised to find it just in the vicinity of 100 pages long. As a matter of course, then, the book finally becomes something of a curious footnote to a career with which I am unfortunately unfamiliar.I cannot find fault to Daumal's voice as it appears via translation. He is direct, succinct, and possesses a certain absurdist sense of humor in portraying his characters. My copy of the book incluced a handsketched diagram showing the appearances of his fictional mountain-climbing party. I am uncertain if its presence was always intended or included here merely for academic curiosity.The story breezes through quickly. Perhaps too quickly. It's interesting that a book about mountain climbing possesses so few footholds for the memory, and the supplemental notes seem to imply only two chapters were left incomplete at the time of Daumal's death. And, of course, once things appear to really get interesting, we find ourselves facing the cruel, immovable wall of the obvious.Much of interest is established in this book and little is, unfortunately, answered. Daumal possessed talent, and an ability to draw me in, though, and I look forward to reading more of his work in the future--whether I am proved right or wrong in my speculation. This is probably not the best introduction to Daumal, but it would be of interest to people who have found their way through at least some of what currently exists of his work.
Here's someone I've been meaning to read more of for years, but all I succeed in doing is rereading again and again this book that the author never finished. I don't quite agree that it's complete enough as it stands, but its incompleteness does have the advantage of stimulating one's imagination, of being like a temptation that is never satisfied but is ever alluring. At least that's why I can rereread it. The tone of the book is of a hybrid between spiritualist/occult tract and adventure tale and reminds me somewhat of some of H. P. Lovecraft's masterpieces like At the Mountains of Madness - child's adventure tales with a mature cosmic purpose. Lovecraft was obsessed with the littleness of humanity and its ultimate destruction by extremely ancient forces and intelligences from beyond, but Daumal was much more optimistic and humanistic and was interested in the individual's ability to actually glimpse "heaven" and continuously evolve into something more. In the book a team of seekers sets out to find Mount Analogue (an actual mountain but also the literal meeting point of Heaven and Earth) using some newly (early 20th cent) discovered scientific principles such as the curvature of light. The adventurers do succeed in finding the mountain, and there is a chapter or two on the structure of the mountain society itself, but the book ends mid-sentence soon after the adventurers begin their actual ascent of the mountain. Very frustrating, yes, but it leaves one free to continue it in one's head (my miniature Shambhala edition also has Daumal's notes for part of the unfinished novel).It's a simple book to read, and is fairly short - I read it yesterday in between fatherly duties and household chores, and was satisfying and thought-provoking enough that I felt little guilt mindlessly partying last night - so just pick it up some time and read it, and hopefully your edition will have a substantial biographical introduction like mine that will at least make you want to read more of his works and find out more about his realtively brief but fascinating and full life.
What do You think about Mount Analogue (2005)?
It's a miracle that this book even exists. A book we were never meant to have, existing only in myth. A fever of a dream, but with all the details intact, specific, and so real. Like ending up in a dream without leaving the real world behind, both in terms of the trivialities of living as well as the logic that never approaches dream logic. An amalgamation of science, philosophy, myth, humor, and clear thinking, yes with the translucent, almost invisible, clarity of a 'paradam' that suddenly bends your thinking around its curvature. A 'paradam' shift. This book was already written from another world, no wonder Daumal died mid-sentence. No wonder! He was a dead man when he began, only gracing us with a few words from the other side. And how fitting! This story of a journey to the other side, a journey that never reaches its destination because its author, having reached it, cannot come back to tell us but a few details that might lead us there. An impossible journey. (Mount Analogue is analogous of itself, without ever being self-reflexive, without even knowing its antecedent). The unknown, like a dagger in the known, is deceptively accessible. Nevertheless, Daumal prepares the way, like the campers before him. In Daumal's world, the mystery of the unknown is more real than the reality of the world, so that our reality is but a dream within it. It's a transcendence into specificity. When we look back from the other world, we'll see but a vagueness reminiscent of lives half-lived in the fog that hovers in the foothills.PS - reading some of the other reviews, I was a little annoyed that a few people had mentioned that this was surrealism. No it's not! People like to repeat what other people say without really evaluating it. Why would Daumal delve into surrealism when he can end up in the ideal territory of surrealism without ever leaving the real? That is what Daumal does, and that is why it is brilliant beyond anything I've ever imagined could be written. One logical step at a time, is how Daumal leads us up the mountain.
—Jimmy
"It isn't easy to explain-- there's a book called Mount Analogue by René Daumal that tells all about it. Just take my word for it."I always did just take the Chicken Man's word for it, but it looks like I didn't have to, because Mount Analogue turns out to be completely real. (Shout out to rushthatspeaks for the tip.)The book is unfinished, which is frustrating and which also makes it somehow eternal.There's a fragment from the endmatter that gets stuck in my head from time to time. "There at the summit sharper than the sharpest needle, alone stands he who fills all space." And when it starts echoing back and forth in there, I'm like: Ah. I get it. I think I see what you're saying about mountains.
—Nick Fagerlund
Racconto fantastico ed un po' folle di uno straordinario viaggio "non euclideo" di un gruppo di pittoreschi alpinisti alla ricerca del Monte Analogo, il monte più alto di tutti gli altri, il collegamento tra Terra e Cielo e percorso ideale per il raggiungimento la perfezione. La prima parte del racconto è molto divertente, con la preparazione del viaggio e l'esposizione delle presunte prove scientifiche sull'esistenza del Monte Analogo, sullla sua posizione e sulla spiegazione del perché mai nessuno è riuscito ad individuarlo. In tutto quello che l'autore scrive non c'è nulla di scientificamente sensato ma lo racconta con una tale enfasi che sembra di ascoltare Giacobbe in una delle puntate di Voyager (o Kazzinger???). Nella seconda parte del racconto il gruppo di esploratori sbarca alle pendici del Monte Analogo e si ritrova in un mondo parallelo, popolato da gente di tutti gli angoli del mondo e di tutte le età storiche che hanno lasciato il nostro mondo e si sono rifugiate quì per seguire il loro percorso di perfezione. La vita di queste persone è organizzata in funzione del viaggio verso la sommità del Monte e la società è guidata dalle Guide Alpine, supremi sacerdoti. Purtroppo, Il racconto si interrompe bruscamente lasciando il lettore con l'amaro in bocca per non essere riuscito a scoprire cosa c'è sulla cima del Monte Analogo.Al racconto sono allegate una serie di note sull'opera che sono di una noia mortale e che fanno svanire tutta la leggerezza e la piacevolezza del racconto.
—Cloudbuster
