I enjoy devouring every new work by Christopher Harding, one of my favourite authors. This work I saved until Christmas, and I read it across three days. It pains me to leave only three stars for a book that I really enjoyed reading, but it doesn't live up to the promise and the three parts don't gel well enough together to merit the five stars that I gave to his 'Japan Story' and 'The Japanese: A History in Twenty Lives' (he doesn't refer to many of these lives in this work).
Granted, this is a very different topic, and Japan is not by any means the main focus - rather, India takes centre stage. This isn't initially clear - the first part is an interesting history up until 1600 of early encounters of Asia which feels at times random in its selection, but I also learnt much from this. It covers a lot of time at a quick pace, and tries to make connections between chapters, even though it soon jumps ahead to Marco Polo. The discussion on Megasthenes and the chapter on Thomas Coryate were brilliant. The point that Cicero and Propertius saw the practice of sati (widow self-immolation on her husband's funeral pyre) as noble and indicative of the greater morals of Indian women over that of morally decadent Roman woman, contrasted in a very fascinating way with a later discussion on how the British saw the practice as barbaric and banned it (working with Indian liberal figures). It raises the question - how useful is this approach of running through 'Western' fascination with the East. British sensibilities were not, after all, much like the Mediterranean Greeks and Romans of millennia prior. The section is thought provoking and well worth reading, but I get the impression that Harding is rushing ahead, frustrated that he has not yet approached the material that can bring to the fore the ruminations he is beginning to ponder.
I enjoyed the second part the most, as a work of history. The discussions of Schleiermacher, Schopenhauer, William James, Edwin Arnold, Coleridge, Southey, and Annie Besant, were all brilliant and thought provoking. Covering the 1600s to 1900s, it is more manageable, the chapters flow well and the examples from poetry are well selected. I didn't know the origin of the Juggernaut - truly fascinating stuff!
The third part, however, could, and should have served, as its own book, which Harding could have expanded further. Suddenly there is no China or Chinese thinkers, no Japan and only a few Japanese thinkers, and instead a focus on a few figures, mostly from Britain, and their attraction to Indian thought in light of their personal disillusionment with, but consistent attachment to, their Christianity - with reference to George Harrison, psychedelics, and the origins of modern psychotherapy.
It is all very interesting, but this third section is not as much a history as it is an account through the lives of Besant, Hoch, Watts, and Griffiths, which is entirely valid and interesting on its own terms, but is somewhat at odds with the earlier parts in its narrative approach and in the ever-present intervention of the author's meditations. This sympathetic treatment of Western fascination with the East becomes more than a history, with Harding asking in his conclusion 'what is real, who says and how should we live'; followed by a philosophical meditation based on Besant, Hoch, Watts, and Griffiths, with cursory references to other figures from parts one and two, contemplating the 'garden left untended' of the damaged souls of Westerners - all the while sympathetic to his protagonists in their search for meaning.
Harding has convinced me to take Swami Vivekananda, Watts and Griffiths seriously, and he wrote about them very movingly. It entirely takes over the book from its earlier focuses. Perhaps this should have already been the approach - the microfocus means that the China and Japan mentioned before are forgotten, with one brief justification that this may be because China is Communist and Japan is industrialised.
I like how Harding has really grappled with reading the Bhagavad Gita while writing this book, and I respect that he wanted to approach something new, away from his previous work and knowledge of Japanese thinkers (which he avoids even when he could include more contemporary figures in his discussion of zen and psychotherapy). Even though I think there is something lacking as a consequence, in light of earlier chapters on China and Japan, I do understanding that his encountering of Bede Griffith's autobiography was the spark that begun this project, and therefore proved itself to be the final revealed focus.
In 2026 I aim to read and review the Bhagavad Gita (and Shahnameh), so I can try and understand more about the specific context of Harding's many fecund references and quotes. I look forward to reading Harding's future works.