I have had this book on my shelf for a number of years, but
only glanced into it occasionally before deciding at the end of last year to
read it through. A few pages into Miguel
Serrano’s memoir of his association with Hermann Hesse and Carl Jung, published
by Schocken Books in 1966, the author casually mentions a small deception he
made in conversation with Hesse by implying that he was going to India as a seeker,
a humble wanderer, rather than in a diplomatic capacity. I thought that this was a curious thing to
do, so I decided it was time to learn more about Mr. Serrano, Chilean diplomat
and (inconsequential to our discussion) alleged paramour of Indira Gandhi.
Well, I got an eyeful about Mr. Serrano. In this book, he presents himself as a
metaphysical seeker, an introspective searcher who had learned much from the
esoteric writings of the elderly gents into whose orbit he so forcefully
inserted himself, fawning at their feet to eke out a few letters from them in
return. Try as I might, in my reading of
this volume, I don’t seem to find any reference to Serrano’s true life passion
- as exposed by the easy access of information that the internet provides us -
the glorification and apotheosis of Adolf Hitler, known as Esoteric Hitlerism.
Apparently his deep reading and thoughtful meditation had led him to
cobble together a bizarre amalgam of “Aryan” Vedic knowledge and Nazi cultism
to bring forth a strange and vile religion based on Hitler worship and
(surprise!) vilification of the Jews. If
you care to have a gander at Google Images, you can see images of Senor Serrano
down through the years, done up nice in his crisp black uniform with its assorted
vile paraphernalia, waving a peculiarly stiff goodbye to someone apparently out
of the camera shot.
Now the biggest, and most puke-inducing, kick regarding this
bullshit is that this loathsome creep somehow shanghai’d Schocken Press, a
pre-eminent publisher specializing in Judaica to publish it, in those glorious
pre-internet days before one could “google” a name and see what kind of
freakish dishonest bastard you were dealing with.
I don’t know to what extent Hesse and Jung had any Nazi
sympathies (apparently there are suspicions and rumors regarding Jung that I’ve
never taken the time to look into), but they certainly weren’t on display
here. What this tiresome memoir looks
like is some fast-talking sleaze pushing himself upon two semi-retired figures in their
dotage, and harvesting their acquaintance to facilitate publication of, as far
as I can tell, the only remotely respectable piece of work he ever presented to
the world. Mr. Serrano left this world in
2009: I hope they buried him proudly in that lovely uniform - in a pile of
dung.
