The myth of Shangri-la originates in Tibetan Buddhist beliefs in beyul, or hidden lands, sacred sanctuaries that reveal themselves to devout pilgrims and in times of crisis. The more remote and inaccessible the beyul, the vaster its reputed qualities. Ancient Tibetan prophecies declare that the greatest of all hidden lands lies at the heart of the forbidding Tsangpo Gorge, deep in the Himalayas and veiled by a colossal waterfall. Nineteenth-century accounts of this fabled waterfall inspired a series of ill-fated European expeditions that ended prematurely in 1925 when the intrepid British plant collector Frank Kingdon-Ward penetrated all but a five-mile section of the Tsangpo's innermost gorge and declared that the falls were no more than a "religious myth" and a "romance of geography."
The heart of the Tsangpo Gorge remained a blank spot on the map of world exploration until world-class climber and Buddhist scholar Ian Baker delved into the legends. Whatever cryptic Tibetan scrolls or past explorers had said about the Tsangpo's innermost gorge, Baker determined, could be verified only by exploring the uncharted five-mile gap. After several years of encountering sheer cliffs, maelstroms of impassable white water, and dense leech-infested jungles, on the last of a series of extraordinary expeditions, Baker and his National Geographic-sponsored team reached the depths of the Tsangpo Gorge. They made news worldwide by finding there a 108-foot-high waterfall, the legendary grail of Western explorers and Tibetan seekers alike.
The Heart of the World is one of the most captivating stories of exploration and discovery in recent memory--an extraordinary journey to one of the wildest and most inaccessible places on earth and a pilgrimage to the heart of the Tibetan Buddhist faith.
Ian studied art history, literature, and comparative religion at Middlebury College, Oxford University, and Columbia University and Medical Anthropology at University College London. He is an international fellow of the Explorers Club and was honored by National Geographic Society as one of six ‘Explorers for the Millennium’ for his ethnographic and geographical field research in Tibet’s Tsangpo gorges and his team’s discovery of a waterfall that had been the source of myth and geographic speculation for more than a century. (source: https://ianbakerjourneys.wordpress.com)
My favorite literary genre! Spiritual-autobiography-adventure-travelogue. The kind of book I buy and treasure. My illusory and high expectations, thus and of course, a bit disappointed. Baker is a practicing Buddhist, knows the languages and cultures and is a great student of Tibetan religion and tantric lore. But he also comes across as a bit of swashbuckler, Indiana Jones type. He is obviously captivated by the more exotic and exoteric side of Tibetan tantra, emphasizing the visionary "wisdom" side of things a bit too much over the more empathic, compassionate element. He's a good travel and landscape writer though, and a great plus of the book is the array of photos, thankas, and maps throughout and the extensive endnotes. Unnecessary and sometimes seemingly unconscious repetition throughout though, and add-on quotes from whoever (Blake, Henry Miller, etc.) distract from rather than embellish or deepen the main narrative and journey. Much like the secret key behind the Hidden Falls of Pemako I guess, I'll continue my endless journey for the perfect, beautiful spiritual travelogue! So far, The Snow Leopard is still my favorite treasure.
In the Tantric tradition, the ideal of pilgrimage is not simply to visit sacred sites, but to facilitate an inner transformation at places that challenge conventional ways of seeing. In this sense, the more destabilizing the surroundings the better.
With that thought in mind Ian Baker, an American adventurer and student of Tantric Buddhism, made a series of pilgrimages to one of the harshest environments on earth, Tibet's Tsangpo gorge region, known for its suicidal white water, three-mile deep canyons, blood-sucking leeches, man-sized stinging nettles, poisoning cults, hostile tribes, and unrelenting rainfall. If you care to join Baker in his slog through this thick narrative, you'll hike through dense rain forests, cross snow-covered passes, search for psychoactive mushrooms, chug chang with village lamas, pluck leeches by the dozens from your legs, hunt for hidden waterfalls, and listen for hour upon hour about the intricacies of Tantric pilgrimage, Buddhist deities, hidden paradises, and altered states of perception. Finding an actual Shangri-La is not paramount. What counts is encountering all things in an environment where heaven and hell converge.
The Heart of the World (2004) is a long book that takes itself pretty seriously. A little humor here and there would have done wonders to lighten the reader's load; a little more exploration of the thoughts and intentions of Baker's interesting traveling companions could have helped tremendously to hold my interest; a little authorial self-effacement could have made the book so much more intriguing. Be prepared to wade through esoteric passages about how "reconnecting with full consciousness to the lost feminine unity, the adept is symbolically reborn from the dakini's secret lotus...." But thankfully most of the narrative is pure adventure writing, laced with the history of previous expeditions to the gorges, and decorated with a gobs of artsy quotes from the likes of Henry Miller, gnostic gospels, and T. S. Eliot. The typography is immaculate, the index is a pure work of art, and the bibliography will keep me busy for months to come. The book is well illustrated with pictures taken by the author or culled from the archives of august geographic associations. I only wish the captions had been placed under the photos so that I didn't have to dig through the back of the book to figure out what I was looking at.
Такой и должна быть современная литература о путешествиях и географических открытиях: словесной картой духовного странствия, описанием маршрута по мифопоэтическому интерфейсу Запада и Востока на границе ума и пейзажа. Хотя открытий в этом мире уже не осталось. Казалось бы. Но здесь лучший способ путешествовать - это: "You have to give up all maps, compasses, and sense of direction".
Но вообще - самая утешительная и кайфовая книга за последние смутные полгода, очень дхармичная и одновременно Арсеньевская (только написана гораздо лучше). Отдельное упражнение при этом, как я люблю иногда с книжками, сильно привязанными к географии, - это следить за перемещениями героев по карте. В начале 90х, когда совершалось первое путешествие в эту "сокрытую землю", блага гугл-карт ни у кого еще не было, а топография и топонимика у автора крайне приблизительны, но я все же нашел Пемако и проследил-угадал, где именно они все там ходили. Удивительная, правда, особенность в том, что как раз область "сокрытой земли" на карте покрыта тенью - и это не совсем тень от близлежащих гор. Так что подробностей все равно разглядеть не удалось, пусть местные божества не беспокоятся.
Но противные китайцы там, судя по нынешнему виду из космоса, никаких плотин там не построили до сих пор, хвала хранителям, там то же самое запустение.
В какой-то момент в рассуждениях о генезисе Рая наш нелитературоцентричный автор обмолвливается: "Д. Х. Лоренс... писал в 1953 году". Вот из Рая, видать, он это и писал, поскольку умер в 1930м. ...Впрочем, не это главное, а вот хороший очерк о нем в "ЛА Таймз": https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-x...
I really enjoyed this travelogue adventure but found it, at times, to be slow and redundant.
The region that Baker explored is so remote that it wasn't even explored by white man until the late 20th Century. Baker possesses a great deal of enthusiasm for discovering Buddhist beyuls; places in nature where the prepared student may come closer to enlightenment than any other place. The beyul that he seeks in this book is called pemako and is reported to be the heart of the world. The adventure in the story comes as Baker is thwarted in his first attempt by massive tiger leeches, running out of food, rebellious porters, mudslides and Himalayan winter weather and must overcome arduous obstacles to realize his goal in his second attempt 1 year later. My favorite part of the book is Baker's account of exploring Pemako Beyul. It is a very mystical and ethereal experience.
Baker does a nice job of giving the reader ample amounts of history of the region and background on Buddhist exploration. And, at the same time, this information can feel overwhelming and, at times, slows the pace of the book down incredibly. Also, the book contains several stories that each give similar background which felt redundant. It appears that Baker may have initially intended to publish them separately where the background would've been helpful. However, some editing would've been nice to clear this up since the stories were all published in the same bind.
If you enjoy Tibetan culture, adventure, or Buddhism you will likely find this an interesting read.
Mr. Baker's account of several trips to the Tsangpo Gorge, a remote region of Tibet, was at times entertaining, at times educating, but sadly, often slow and convoluted. Plot and character development took a back seat to PLACE, which I'm sure was a conscious decision by Mr. Baker, but unfortunately the book as a whole suffered for it. Most of the people in the book are little more than names and ethnicities. We get a sense of Mr. Baker (which is not altogether favorable) and his friend, Hamid, who serves as something of a comic foil to Mr. Baker. But there are so many other people who accompany Mr. Baker on his journeys, and I would have loved to learn a bit more about them. I enjoyed the educational pieces, but they were often repeated not as a reminder, but as if we were learning about them for the first time.
What Mr. Baker did best was to present the Tsangpo Gorge in a way that felt both real and magical. He did not shy away from sharing the grimmer and uncomfortable sides of an expedition into the Tibetan wilderness. But the majesty of the area is clear throughout, and is the reason to read the book.
ok, now i'm about half way done. the book is still interesting because i like books about exploration, hardship and determination, but i'm beginning to really dislike the author. i find him to be a bit of an elitist and he doesn't even seem to really realize that he is opening up a sacred space to western ecotourism. not someone i'd care to dine with.
did i like it, did i REALLY like it? was it just ok?? i read it because it brought back my glory days in India and the Himalayas. there is some good info in the book. He is a practitioner of Tantra (the nyngmapa sect--the black hat sect) and knows what he is talking about. however, he could have used an editor and someone to squelch that ego.
I was conflicted as I read this book. On the one hand, the blend of Dharma and travel/adventure was seductive and compelling--and yet, I had reservations about the motives of the author and his overall trustworthiness. "The Heart of the World" is both a ripping yarn, and somewhat of a puzzle--especially now, since a Google of the author reveals that his properties in Kathmandu were raided in 2008 and "dozens of illegally possessed artifacts, idols, wood craft and huge materials of endangered wildlife" were confiscated by the authorities.
Relative reality still must be respected, even when ultimate reality is the object of one's explorations.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This story has so many layers combining Himalayan expeditions with spiritual discovery. They pace of the book is very meditative. But that suits the story being told
Wow, this book never seemed to end. I thought I'd have it finished in 2 weeks and it took over a month. It was really much too long for the material and could have easily been cut down by 150 pages. Baker provides his personal journal and observations regarding his journeys deep into southeastern Tibet during the 1990s - a region called Pemako where the fabled city of Shangri-La was supposed to exist. He provides both a cultural view of Buddhism along with his accounts of hiking deep into a regions of Tibet that no westerners ever had before - the deep gorge and hidden falls of the Tsangpo river that winds through the Himalayas. Part travelogue, part inner dialog, part cultural Buddhism, he also winds his way through the monks of Nepal and Tibet giving the book a bit of dizzying mix and quite a bit of repetition (there are 3 major journeys in the book - to the gorge, a sacred mountain and the falls all in Pemako). The region seems magnificent but is treacherous with earthquakes, landslides, leeches, gnats, vipers, etc. It really is a fascinating journey - 3 1/2 stars but rounded down due to too much repetition.
A really well written but hard to get into spiritual and at the same time adventurous book. Especially the first half of the book was hard to get into due to the heavy Buddhist jargon. Very interesting conceptually, but very tedious if you have no experience at all with this type of content. The book really took of for me in the second half where Baker focussed more on the actual exploration. His vivid descriptions of the nightmarish adventures he had to endure caused me to complete the last half in less than two weeks.
I will probably re-read the book in the near future as I can now better appreciate the spiritual content that is contained within this book. The book is definitely well written and the tale is awe-inspiring, but it could have used a better introduction for less versed people like me.
Ian Baker's The Heart of the World: A Journey to the Last Secret Place is an incredible mix of adventure, spirituality, and cultural exploration. It's all about his epic journeys into the Tsangpo Gorge in Tibet, one of the most remote and mysterious places on Earth. Baker and his team were on a mission to find a legendary waterfall that had been the stuff of myths and legends for over a century—a supposed gateway to a sacred paradise, or beyul. This book is way more than just an outdoor adventure story; it's a deep dive into how geography, mythology, and human spirituality all come together.
The Good Stuff: 1. Adventure Galore: Baker's descriptions of navigating the Tsangpo Gorge are as thrilling as they are intense. He takes you through dense rainforests, over snow-covered passes, and into some of the most challenging terrain on Earth (with lots of leeches). 2. Spiritual Insights: Baker weaves his personal spiritual journey with Buddhist philosophies, making this book a lot more than just a tale of adventure. He explores the idea of beyul and how it's about finding a spiritual place before the physical. Seeing how he connects these spiritual concepts to the natural world is interesting. 3. Cultural Richness: The book provides extensive insight into Tibetan traditions, rituals, and mythology. Baker shares stories about local beliefs, deities, and altered states of perception, which adds a whole other layer to the story. His interactions with village lamas and discussions about Tibetan art and philosophy make the book feel rich and immersive. The Challenges: 1. It's a Long Haul: The book is long, dense, and filled with new concepts, so it's definitely a commitment. You have to be ready to dive in and stick with it. 2. Pacing Issues: It takes a bit to get going, especially if you're not familiar with Tibetan geography or culture. But once you're in, it's gratifying. 3. Repetition: Some parts, like all the rhododendrons and border guards, might feel a bit repetitive.
The Verdict: The Heart of the World is not just an adventure book; it's an invitation to join Baker on both a physical journey through some of the wildest landscapes on Earth and a spiritual journey inward. If you're up for it, this book offers a really unique experience—a chance to explore hidden waterfalls and hidden realms within yourself.
It's perfect for anyone who loves adventure stories with some real depth. Just be ready to commit to the journey, and you'll find it's totally worth it.
There are a lot of things going on in this beyond a simple recitation of explorations. Some of the Buddhist digressions overwhelm the narrative and the weird hints at orgies in hippie-trail paradise are creepy, but the essence of the book is solid and enlightening not only for the description of the Tsangpo gorges, but also for the spiritual dimensions of landscape in the Tibetan ontology.
I am giving this four stars because of the message of the book. Ian Baker is an American Buddhist scholar living in Nepal who takes a series of journeys to Tibet to explore the Tsangpo Gorge, the deepest in the world. In great detail, almost too much detail, he describes four treks into this hard to reach and inhospitable place. He goes again and again for two reasons. One, journeying into the gorge is type of Buddhist pilgrimage. By putting up with the physical hardships of the journey into the gorge, the pilgrim attains spiritual enlightenment. After all, Buddhists believe that you must understand that all life is suffering.
The other reason Baker goes into the gorge is to find a legendary waterfall that other 20th century explorers failed to find. Legend has it that the waterfall is a gateway to a "beyul," or paradise on earth. Baker and his compatriots manage to explore places no westerner had been before. However, what he realizes is that finding something no one has seen before is not that important. He comes to the conclusion that understanding and appreciating sacred and hidden landscapes is the real goal of his journeys. And in a very Buddhist way, he explains that these sacred landscapes are all around us. We just have to attune our minds to these places of energy and enlightenment.
This fantastic work is indeed difficult to classify. It could be called a travel narrative, but beyond this it contains a seemingly comprehensive review of Tibetan Buddhist practices in the Pemako region as well as a bit of the history surrounding Tibetan/Chinese international relations. Ian Baker and his hodgepodge of companions (who all seem to have far more interesting lives than I ever will) embark on several ventures to explore various landmarks in a particularly tumultuous region of Tibet and along the way there is an healthy dose metaphysics, spirituality, meetings with Llamas and a bit of the use of hallucinogenic substances which, prior to reading this, I had no idea was such a big part of the faith of this region. It is just a wonderful read on many levels that certainly drew me in. I've never even been anywhere near the region and, toward the end of the book, wanted to join the fray to keep the Chinese from turning Shangri-La into a tourist trap or destroying its ecosystem with a hydroelectric dam. I highly recommend for anyone who enjoys adventure and/or spirituality.
Five things about The Heart of the World by Ian Baker 📚📚📚📚📚
1. I took my time with this one and I’m glad I did. There was so much nostalgia wrapped up in this for me personally and my own feelings, memories, and previous experiences definitely added to my love of this book. 2. Is Ian Baker a bit of a self-important, egotistical, mansplainer? Yes. Yes, he is but that too felt nostalgic as that is the man kind of man I met while immersed in this world. I read around him to get at the good stuff. And there’s a lot of good stuff. 3. The adventure element was fun. 4. The religious element was overly-simplified but presented in a captivating manner. 5. Overall, this is a wonderful travelogue, adventure, memoir, quasi-anthropological study about a place and culture very near and dear to my heart.
I love reading about adventure, history, culture....so of course I thought I'd really enjoy this book. I appreciate the sacrifices and hardships members of this expedition had to go through, however I stopped reading the book about half the way through. I felt it was slow and somewhat redundant. Despite the research, time, and effort obviously put into this book, it doesn't seem to capture the excitement that was, no doubt, ingrained in the expedition. Maybe I'll try it again another day, and maybe I'll explore other writings by Ian Baker.
Fascinating. How a group of people survived several attempts at finding this incredible mystical place is beyond belief. The bugs, terrain, weather, strange animals and people, makes your skin crawl. This was on National Geographic some time recently. It's an epic journey of where no one has been before.
Is the Earth a Goddess? Can geography inform sacred belief? Follow this amazing tale of the search for the deepest gorge in Tibet and the source of the Ganges.
This is a good, pacey and engaging travelogue, which - in the tradition of 'an American abroad' - reminded me a little of Peter Hessler's River Town.
I read The Heart of the World primarily because I am interested in the lives and travels of Eric Bailey and Frank Kingdon-Ward (who could almost be this book's co-author, given how often he is quoted throughout!). And also because I am interested in how the Tibetan Buddhist concept of 'beyul' has been co-opted and adapted into the Western idea of 'Shangri-La' - for which this book offers a number of interesting insights and points to other literary works which it might have been hard to find or trace otherwise. The journeys made over several years which Baker recounts are tough trials of stamina, both physical and spiritual, with obstacles which are both natural, seemingly supernatural, and, of course, bureaucratic. However, I do agree with the comments (made here on GoodReads) regarding the authorial persona; which, perhaps ironically for someone who presents himself as an aspiring Buddhist practitioner, comes across at times as somewhat egocentric. Similarly, while Baker is often at pains to stress that he is not a privileged white-man of the old explorer mould - this is exactly what he is at most points in the text, especially when, towards the end of the book, he and his companions are attempting "to close the gap" on the "last unexplored" five-mile stretch of the Tsangpo, utilising indigenous labour to enable them to do so (not that there would be any other option, of course).
There is a clear desire to complete (or exceed?) the endeavours which Bailey and Kingdon-Ward failed to achieve themselves; and, in the closing pages of the book, there is an equally palpable desire to beat a large Chinese expedition to find and measure 'the last' major waterfall on the Tsangpo. Although Baker is very evidently self-aware of these particular flaws, and perhaps understandably circles around them uneasily and inconclusively. No matter how informed he is about the region, its spiritual geography and local traditions, he cannot escape the fact that he is an outsider. However deeply he manages to enter, he always has to reconcile himself with the fact that he must ultimately leave again at the end of whichever trip it is he is narrating. Naturally, the reader is drawn to empathise. But the book does also indulge time-and-again in poetic and spiritual flights of fancy which skate a little too close to cliché in places (e.g. - to give but one example, how often it seems that the weather brightening up is attributed to the possible intervention of divine favour, or a lama happening to appear on the scene at the moment the sun comes out), which, for me at any rate, raised a bit of a barrier between reader and author.
That said though, I have read a particularly mind-numbing Chinese book (in translation; The Yarlung Tsangpo Great Canyon: The Last Secret World, by Zhang Jimin) about the enormous Chinese expedition (that features in the closing chapters of Baker's book) which mangles all its references to Kingdon-Ward, including something as simple as getting his name right. One can't help but sympathise with the local Tibetans' conflicts of interest in wanting Pemako to remain unviolated by outsiders whilst also needing to make a living in such an 'out-of-the-way place' by acting as porters to comparatively affluent external interlopers. No matter how difficult or sacred the terrain, in the covetous eyes of such outsiders (Baker as much as the Chinese) the lure to conquer and possess these 'unknown realms' - real or imagined; physical or spiritual - in the end amounts to the same outcomes.
All too often, it's simply a matter of time until others encroach and transform a place into something other than what it once was to those who have gone before, and even moreso to those who have always called such places home. Perhaps in this sense, Baker is an eloquent witness to the completion of a process which was begun by those whom he has sought to emulate, i.e. Bailey, Kingdon-Ward and Cawdor. Hence, one can't help but feeling both forlorn and perhaps vicariously a little complicit too (having enjoyed the narrative of Baker's journeys), when closing this book after reading its concluding chapter.
This manages to combine any number of books within itself, which explains both its size and its periodic repetitiveness. What's so striking about this is that those books are sometimes not a comfortable fit with each other.
At one level, the book is simply a ripping tale of exploration. That can be a tiresomely macho genre, and the enthusiastic back-cover puff from Men's Journal didn't necessarily bode well. At the same time, however, this is combined with a spiritual quest - itself also frequently a rather tiresome genre. (And in the supporting cast, particularly, the machismo and appropriative exploration are plain even among the spiritually inclined, which leaves a rather unpleasant taste) So why does this mostly work?
Baker is described now mostly as a 'cultural historian', and his approach here is to the history of exploration of the region as well as to the history of the spiritual belief system at its centre. This enables him to present some critique of outside exploratory intervention while also (to some extent) being able to identify his own place within that. Perhaps only 'to some extent', however, as his own spiritual practices give him a slightly different relationship to the area he is exploring and (more importantly) to its inhabitants, who come to accept him as an outsider/insider to some degree. Primarily to the degree that he is not Chinese, perhaps - Baker is fairly amenable to anti-Chinese feeling, even while he remains critical of (some) western activity in the region. At the same time, there is also an uncomfortable feeling of personal privilege and individual detachment, predicated on some big western money, that feels both under-examined (because too problematic) and discomforting in context. The bigger the financial interventions as he gets closer to his goal, the more apparent these problems become.
Baker presents no chronological history of Buddhism in Tibet, which may be confusing to those (like me) coming from outside that history and tradition, but there are plenty of pointers in his broad sweep overview. The secret to reading the book, I think, lies in his discussions of pilgrimage - né-ko, a going around something - and his accounts of circumambulation of sites before entering them as a necessary spiritual preparation. There is no direct route to enlightenment, he says at one point, and the book's eddying peregrinations perhaps (charitably) reflect that.
All of this is, interestingly, overlaid on reflections on Romantic and pre-Romantic views of nature, the Sublime and grandeur. These are perhaps the most suggestive, although also the least closely referenced, passages, but they point to ways writers like Hazlitt and Thoreau have engaged with ideas that continue to shape and influence people like Baker. It's rich and suggestive, and full of fascinating content that needs finding and prising out, which doesn't require you to agree with Baker or even like him.
The Heart of the World intertwines a physical journey into the Tsangpo Gorge with a spiritual exploration of Tibetan Buddhism. The narrative is structured around the perilous expedition into the gorge. However, this external adventure becomes a reflection of the internal spiritual odyssey. The unforgiving landscape parallels the challenges one faces on the path to enlightenment.
1. Pilgrimage as a spiritual practice:
The central journey itself becomes a pilgrimage. The harsh conditions and physical hardships act as a metaphor for overcoming obstacles on the path to enlightenment.
2. Significance of the Tsangpo Gorge:
The gorge, one of the deepest on Earth, represents a descent into the self, mirroring introspective meditation practices. Its vastness and remoteness symbolize the vastness and introspection required in Buddhist meditation. Descending into the gorge mirrors a descent into the self, a core tenet of Tibetan Buddhist practice.
3. Connection with nature:
The book explores how enduring the harsh environment fosters a deep appreciation for the natural world, a core tenet of Tibetan Buddhism. The harsh beauty and unforgiving nature of the gorge likely compel Baker to confront his own limitations and cultivate a deep appreciation for the natural world. This resonates with the Buddhist emphasis on interdependence and the interconnectedness of all things.
4. Importance of a teacher:
Baker's interactions with monks and scholars represent the role of a spiritual teacher in guiding one on the Buddhist path. These interactions showcase how guidance is crucial on the path to enlightenment.
5. Allusions to specific practices:
The book might mentions specific meditations and prayers practiced by Tibetan Buddhists, providing a glimpse into their rituals. The book explores the true essence of these practices - cultivating qualities like compassion, mindfulness, and letting go of attachments.
6. Overcoming challenges for growth:
The physical feat of navigating the gorge parallels the mental and emotional challenges on the path to spiritual enlightenment.
Ian Baker's "The Heart of the World" can be described as either a travelogue or a pilgrimage story. The book centers around Baker's journeys into the remote Pemako region, a place steeped in Tibetan Buddhist traditions. Baker's repeated expeditions into the gorge--many of which result in 'failures'--can be seen as a form of Buddhist pilgrimage. These journeys involve physical hardship, mirroring the Buddhist belief in understanding suffering as part of the path to enlightenment.
The gorge itself is portrayed as a sacred place, imbued with spiritual energy. This aligns with the Buddhist concept of certain locations holding significance for meditation and spiritual growth. The narrative suggests that Baker's motivations extend beyond mere exploration. He seems drawn to the potential for spiritual awakening within the gorge.
The harsh conditions of the journey echo the Buddhist concept of dukkha (suffering). By enduring these hardships, Baker might be seeking a deeper understanding of this fundamental truth. The legendary waterfall, believed to be a gateway to a "beyul" (a hidden paradise), could symbolize the Buddhist goal of achieving nirvana or liberation from suffering.
While Tibetan Buddhism is central, the book offers a broader perspective on spiritual practices. Baker's conclusion emphasizes appreciating sacredness in everyday landscapes. This resonates with the idea that spiritual experiences are not limited to specific locations, but can be found anywhere if one is prepared internally.
The novel doesn't delve deeply into the intricacies of Buddhist practices. Baker's perspective is that of an outsider looking in. Some might critique the portrayal of spiritual practices from a non-Buddhist viewpoint. Baker's interpretation of the "beyul" and the purpose of the journey remains open to debate.
THE HEART OF THE WORLD offers a glimpse into the spiritual practices of Tibetan Buddhism within the context of exploration and self-discovery. While the exploration might be from an outsider's perspective, it prompts reflection on the universality of the human search for meaning and enlightenment.
Ian Baker's "The Heart of the World" is more than just a thrilling adventure narrative. It's a captivating blend of exploration, history, and spiritual yearning. Baker, a scholar of Tibetan Buddhism and mountaineer, delves into the myth of Shangri-La, the legendary Himalayan paradise. But his focus is on a specific Tibetan concept: beyul, hidden lands said to be sanctuaries revealed only to worthy pilgrims.
The book centers on the Tsangpo Gorge, one of the deepest on Earth and a place shrouded in myth. Baker explores the legends of a colossal waterfall hidden within the gorge, believed to be the gateway to the ultimate beyul, Pemakö. This legendary waterfall becomes Baker's obsession, and the narrative follows his determined efforts to find it, laced with historical accounts of previous explorers who ventured into the treacherous gorge.
Baker's expeditions are a thrilling read. He vividly portrays the beauty and danger of the Himalayas, the challenges of navigating treacherous gorges, and the camaraderie of his team. But the book also delves into Baker's spiritual quest. His fascination with beyul reflects a deeper search for meaning and a hidden sanctuary in a chaotic world. This introspective aspect adds a layer of depth to the adventure narrative.
"The Heart of the World" has been praised for its captivating story, Baker's engaging writing style, and its unique blend of adventure and spiritual exploration. Baker's accomplishment in finally reaching the legendary waterfall gained recognition from National Geographic.
"The Heart of the World" is a captivating read for anyone who enjoys adventure stories, has an interest in Tibetan culture and legends, or appreciates a good exploration narrative with a deeper meaning.
This book is one part Indiana Jones and one part Pope Francis.
As the novel progresses, Ian Baker describes how Tibetan buddhists built temples strategically throughout their land to pin down the limbs of a malevolent goddess Srinmo. Maybe it was her that sent the torrential rains, the writhing masses of bloodsucking land leeches, and the thick clouds of mist.
In a similar way, the longtime residents of the regions that Ian Baker is trying to explore seem to attach spiritual significance to every feature of the harsh but beautiful Tibetan landscape. As he carries on in his narrative, the author did the same. As he met his hardships, he relied on the written history left by the explorers not just of the geographical landscape but of persons who explored the many dimensions of the spiritual landscape this supposed Shangri-La was famed to have.
On the one hand, who doesn't come back from a hiking trip and try to make it sound like some lifechanging odyssey? On the other, something touched my heart in this book when Ian Baker imparts that our journeys in the natural world can, by physical hardship and prostrating ourselves to the mercy of forces out of our control, be a journey not just in geographic space but of spritual dimensions. I don't think this is just true for Tibetans and their well developed theology for their beloved landscape. It's also true just about anywhere on this great green Earth where nature has been saved of the ravishes of mankinds material needs.
4 out of 5 stars because the book gets a bit esoteric at some points.
The author, Ian Baker described as a Buddhist scholar documents two of his harrowing journeys searching for a hidden waterfall at the Tsangpo gorge and thus finding beyul. The writing is good even though he occasionally comes out with a sentence like: " She sat in a sea of white lambswool, black hair tumbling across her shoulders and eyes like sonnets."
His treks into the jungle sound incredibly dangerous and at times foolish and ill-conceived describing massive tangles of rhododendron, massive blood sucking leeches, dangerous terrain, snow, hunger, sketchy map, running out of supplies and less than friendly Chinese officials, etc. I couldn't help but think maybe he had the wrong idea about the search for beyul.
His journey should sound incredibly exciting but, I think he interspersed so many additional stories, quotes, and history of the location, Buddhism, and his own life , it took away a sense of suspense a journey like this should evoke. If you are interested in the place or even Buddhism I would recommend although it is longer than it should be at a little under 450 pages not including extensive glossary, pictures, map ,and notes. If you are looking for straight adventure, I'd give it a pass.
Difficile dare un giudizio obiettivo di quest'opera. Un resoconto di un'avventura che sfocia, ahimè, nel romanzesco, ma che ci regala, in un mondo ormai violentato a dismisura dalle immagini, l'ormai perduto fascino di una zona inesplorata e sconosciuta della terra. Lo stile conta poco. Sicuramente magnifica la scelta dell'autore di arricchire notevolmente il racconto puramente descrittivo con la spiritualità che caratterizza inequivocabilmente il Tibet, i suoi luoghi e le sue genti. Politicamente corretta la descrizione del momento storico che stiamo affrontando. Beh si, ve lo consiglio spassionatamente. A patto però di essere in grado di chiudere gli occhi e avere il coraggio di arrampicarsi, di tuffarsi, di aggrapparsi nei chiaroscuri della gola più profonda del mondo. Ebbene si. Dovete concedervi un momento di pace e di isolamento TOTALE per essere in grado di assaporare al massimo questa fantastica avventura. Voto 7,5
This is one of the few books that immediately upon finishing, I turned back to page one and read it again! If you are interested in adventure travel, Tibet, buddhism, Himilayan history, having your mind twisted, life philosophy, and just plain good writing, you'll love this! It's so dense with fascinating information. I can't imagine how this author organized all of the information woven into this love-child of a book. I underlined; I folded; I marked. If I was doing one of those lists of people you'd most like to have around a dinner table, this author would make the list.
Baker’s exploration of the Tsangpo and its environs is amongst the most spectacular adventures of our time. He expertly captures the mystical and empirical realms of the Pemago unhinging our concepts of what lies within and without. Although the harrowing descriptions of the arduous trekking are somewhat copious he interweaves his expansive knowledge with insightful Buddhist wisdom and Tibetan lore. My dreams were infused with jungles, cliffs, glaciers and dakinis, lamas and the wild of unbounded realization for the entirety of the book.
Jan Baker an intrepid explorer and mountaineer, inspired by Tibetan termas, chronicles his search to the door of Shangri-la in the Himalayas. He and his team sloughed through the rough terrain of Pemaka in Tibet into snake infested forests with gnats and mosquitos, blood sucking worms and leeches. Fog and rain were their constant companions. They also faced beaurocratic road blocks from hard headed Chinese officials and enigmatic responses from Buddhists lamas and abbots. His pilgrimage is well worth reading since his excursion may be one of the last to describe an until-now unknown refuge as China begins to modernize Tibet.