In this book, Pico Iyer is in search of paradise. It is a book of reflections that explores competing ideas of paradise from both religious and secular traditions. He travels to the most unlikely places in this quest. Iran, North Korea, Northern Ireland, Kashmir, Sri Lanka, Japan, Jerusalem, Bali and Australia are the places where he seeks answers to finding paradise. Excluding Australia, Japan, and Bali, the other places have been plagued by conflicts. Is the author searching for bliss amid suffering and strife? The book turns out to be one where Iyer speculates on the best way to live one’s life, and how traveling and writing could help us in self-discovery. I liked the book more for Iyer’s ruminations on the various places he visits rather than things to do with paradise.
We begin in the city of Mashhad in Iran. Iyer finds Iran full of articulate souls, but the more they said, the less he could tell where they or he himself stood. This was in sharp contrast to his life in Japan, a country he finds the most inward and subtle culture he had ever met. The relationship between surface and depth is uncertain in Japan. Hence, he could never understand the fundamental aspects of things. People hold on to their privacy, saying little and expressing even less with their faces. He meets middle-class Iranian women, who are contacts suggested by his friends in California. The women claim most Iranians dream of going to the US, a land where everything is possible. For them, America is paradise. Iyer suggests it is human nature to imagine a place you have not seen as paradise.
Next stop is the ‘peoples’ paradise’, aka North Korea. Iyer is intrigued by the idea of a nation built around a secular ideology. He concedes he knows little about North Korea, even in this information age. His Korean guide seemed to know even less about the outside world. North Korea terrifies him because its people knew the world outside only in abstraction. It is easy to launch a nuclear missile against an abstraction. He wonders if we in the West, who live in full freedom, know any more about North Korea, either. Iyer doubts how much private life might be possible behind closed doors in North Korea. A man might be wary of expressing doubts even to his wife. Again, Iyer reflects on Japan in comparison. In Japan, his neighbours are content to play their parts in public life, if it helps sustain a safe, clean, harmonious society, from which almost everyone can benefit. But he finds Japan’s public life an orchestrated pantomime. He concedes his Japanese friends remain as brightly colored, passionate, often within their homes as they are self-effacing in the street. Iyer’s judgment seemed harsh to me. It is clear Japan is not his paradise.
We move on next to Northern Ireland. Iyer grew up in England in the 1970s and 80s. Belfast was in the news everyday then with bomb blasts and violence. I wonder what made him think of Belfast as a paradise candidate. Visiting Belfast, he calls it the spiritual home of civil war and that it is reviving itself by selling its bad name as a tourist attraction. Its endless conflicts are sold to outsiders as history. Iyer wonders if the locals in Belfast are acting out their animosities, like North Koreans do with the outside world.
The holy city of Jerusalem grabs a lot of Iyer’s attention. In Kashmir, Belfast, and Tibet, he believes the conflicts are about one belief system against another. In Jerusalem, the conflicts are internal and the fighting is not between traditions, but within them. Orthodox Jews oppose secular Jews. Sunni Muslims are ringed by Shia Muslims on all sides. Ultra-Orthodox Jews find common cause with the Palestine Liberation Organization on the principle that your enemy’s enemy is your friend. Iyer sees hope remaining in Jerusalem as stubborn as resentment. In the city, he notes a warning sign next to other ecumenical signs, saying, “Ancient Egyptians seldom entered temples. Like atomic reactors, they were complex and dangerous sources of power, requiring special decontamination procedures for those who enter them”!
Iyer finds Jerusalem a place where lines are drawn so that almost everything is a trespass. Taking notes on the Sabbath at the Western Wall is forbidden. A Greek woman upbraids him for standing with his hands joined behind his back in the Church of Holy Sepulchre. When he tries to walk up to the mosque on Temple Mount, guards stop him, saying visitors could no longer enter. Even Muslims can enter only after answering detailed questions on the Koran. Everything had significance and nothing was taken for granted. Iyer says once you turn off the main street, you are in holy turbulence! Jerusalem is a place where everyday morality and religion part ways on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. Right and wrong are immaterial here, because mortals cannot follow heavenly justice.
Iyer recounts a fascinating encounter with a young, quick-witted guide called Amir in Jerusalem. He and others hire Amir for a day-long tour of the places where Jesus spent his childhood. On the way, someone asks Amir how one could solve the problem of a country where two opposing groups have equal claim to the land beneath their feet. Amir counters he is confusing problems with issues. You solve problems but live with issues. He suggests Israelis will be okay so long as no one tries to solve their problems. As the day ends, Amir asks if everyone feels frustrated and confused. Some tourists confess in the affirmative. Amir then claims he has succeeded. They now understand how Israelis feel!
Sri Lanka is another place Iyer visits that is tormented by conflicts. Arabs described the island as ‘contiguous with the Garden of Eden’. The Portuguese, the Dutch and the British sailed away from there with ginger, wild indigo and seven kinds of wild cinnamon. The locals believe that the Buddha himself came to Sri Lanka thrice and to have proclaimed that the true home of his teachings was Lanka. However, today, nine of the parliament seats are held by Buddhist monks and they were the most passionate advocates for violence against Tamil separatists and Muslims. Iyer recalls the words of Thomas Merton, an American Christian monk, who was profoundly affected by Buddhism in Sri Lanka. Merton said he found what he was seeking by ceasing to ask questions. He cautioned about thinking we have all the answers. It could be an illusion because we may not be asking the right questions. Iyer concludes even monks need to accept uncertainty as central to life.
The book is stimulating to read as a travelogue. However, it lacks a deep discussion of the subjective nature of paradise or what it is in Iyer’s mind. I could not help thinking that Iyer’s search for paradise was the affluent man’s search. Iyer was born in Oxford, England and grew up in both England and Santa Barbara, California. He went to elite educational institutions in the US and the UK. Now, he is a successful author who lives both in California and Japan. Most people worldwide would wonder why he was searching for paradise, being born and living in it. For people of modest means, bliss is living without material anxieties, struggles, and burdens. The hundreds of thousands of migrants who flee violence and conflict in Central America see paradise as just getting basic security in their lives. They see the United States as that paradise. Italy is paradise for the refugees who risk their lives on leaky boats across the Mediterranean Sea. However, Iyer is not striving for such paradises, but a higher one. Is it one where dire conflicts do not exist? If so, he already has it in Santa Barbara and Kyoto. Is it a level of social cohesion where intimacy is natural even between strangers? Perhaps he can find it in poor villages around the world, but then they would also simmer underneath with class hostility. Iyer, with his philosophical bent of mind, would indeed know that paradise and happiness are largely internal to our minds than external to it. It is puzzling he seeks it in cities and towns around the contemporary world racked by conflict.
An unusual travel book with some philosophical insight.