The Forest Passage.

 

In 1953, a German army veteran of both World Wars sat down and wrote a short book (less than 100 pages in a small paperback format) to teach his fellow man how to live authentically in a society of totalitarian materialism. This author was a renowned memoirist, poet, philosopher and writer of fiction who was first popular with, and then saw his books banned by, the National Socialists. Nevertheless, he served in the Second World War, but was friends with certain of the July plotters and hurriedly destroyed personal papers after it failed. After the War, he refused to attend a de-nazification hearing. Throughout the rest of his long life, he wrote philosophy, speculative fiction and traveled extensively. And, as has been mentioned before, he was received into the Catholic Church at age 101. 

I give this background in order to help not only the reader, but also myself, understand Ernst Jünger's The Forest Passage.

I tell you now, I have to re-read it. I am left with the distinct impression that Jünger intended  multiple readings.

Passage is a manifesto of human dignity and authenticity in the face of materialist societies which have lost connection with anything apart from the wielding of power.

Said manifesto is salted with German Romanticism, Christianity, myth, poetry, the power of nature, observations about the brittleness of tyrannical regimes, suggestions for partisan tactics (really!)--all offered to prepare the reader for "the forest passage." The passage is a willed self-exile, in whatever form, from tyranny. This is delivered in a near stream-of-consciousness style via short chapters whose connections are not always obvious. And at the end, he puts together a summary of the chapters in a few brief paragraphs.

And I am happy to report that my sense that the book is an "anti-1984" is at least partially correct: near the end, Jünger explicitly makes reference to Orwell. Jünger praises Orwell's fiction for showing us how to avoid certain dead ends, but dismisses the premise entirely. For Jünger, such a regime can only exist in fiction, and resistance is always possible and successful. This last at least in the sense of preserving one's authenticity and soul. 

The mode of resistance--the passage--will be different for everyone who traverses it, from voting "no" when expected to assent (or "yes," to render the data false), to walking away from one's hearth, to even losing one's life in battle against the tyrant. 

But there are always sources of strength for each resister which are beyond the reach of tyrants, from faith, poetry, stories, myth and even connection to nature outside of the gray cityscapes. And there is strength woven into the human spirit itself, which, contra Orwell, cannot be pulled out.

The more I think of it, the book is almost Taoist in that the text is bursting to tell the reader something that is indescribable but one knows is real, just at the edge of the senses but not fully graspable by them or the intellect.

I strongly recommend the book. I found it to be something unique, prescient and oddly cheering, a reminder of our essential dignity, moral integrity and strength as men and women.