Aflame

Starred review from November 25, 2024
Novelist and essayist Iyer (The Half Known Life) shares in this luminous account the lessons that more than 30 years of visiting a Benedectine monastery in California have taught him about silence. Convinced by a friend to visit the retreat in 1991, he describes it as less a place of solitude than a tightly woven “communal web” where silence is not a means of retreating into the self but shedding it to better live in the world. As a result of his visits, Iyer comes to see the ways in which the sacred shows up again and again in the mundane. For example, the tiny Tokyo apartment he shares with his girlfriend and her small children becomes a self-contained paradise (“Now I can see luxury is defined by all you don’t have to long for”), while the wildfires that regularly break out in the hills of California—and over the years claim his mother’s house and endanger the monastery itself—serve as a reminder that “the sacred is not a sanctuary... its power comes from the fact that it can’t begin to be controlled.” The author brilliantly illuminates philosophical insights about the nature of the self, the world, and how silence serves as a conduit between the two, often in elegant, evocative prose: at the monastery, “it’s as if a lens cap has come off and once the self is gone, the world can come flooding in, in all its wild immediacy.” This is stunning.