Hagiography of a Yogi 155
are the many associates who no doubt played pivotal roles in his progress both in
India and abroad. Understandably there is no mention of the tempestuous rifts
and legal struggles with Dhirananda and Nirad Ranjan Chowdhury. Nor is there
any mention of the American Yogis who accompanied Yogananda on his lecture
tours— not only the colorful Hamid Bey and Roman Ostoja but also the many
core disciples who were instrumental to Yogananda’s early success. These omis-
sions are reflected in the simple logistics of the book’s subdivisions: thirty- six of
the eventual forty- nine chapters are concerned with events prior to Yogananda’s
arrival in America. Seven of the thirteen remaining chapters concern his return
to India. Thus, in all, only six of the forty- nine chapters reflect Yogananda’s life in
the West— roughly 10 percent of the entire book. In reality, however, this time
period accounts for nearly 50 percent of Yogananda’s life. Approximately thirty of
his fifty- nine years were spent on American soil.
Why, then, the apparent imbalance? It might be said that, for Yogananda as
for his American audience, the Yogi together with his superpowers ultimately
resides in the mystical distance of the Orient. This is perhaps partially true. And
yet Yogananda’s message is based primarily on the universality of yoga as an
expression of human potential. Although his stories of saints and miracles are
primarily staged in India, he makes it a point to dedicate entire chapters to the
Catholic stigmatic Therese Neumann and the American Luther Burbank, the
“Saint Amidst the Roses.” There is, however, one very singular thing that exists
for Yogananda only in India: his relationship with his guru.
There are many ways to read the Autobiography. One can glean quite a few
endearingly prosaic observations from its pages. For instance, Yogananda’s pas-
sion for food— substantiated by his disciples’ accounts of his culinary talents
and creative use of meat substitutes as well as the ubiquitous littering of recipes
throughout the volumes of East- West— can be observed in the Autobiography’s
detailed descriptions of every meal. One also notices a charming predilection for
plant life, as witnessed by Yogananda’s admiration for Jagadis Chandra Bose and
Luther Burbank as well as the many smaller references that are no doubt artifacts
of his aborted ventures into an agricultural education. These details are perhaps
the closest that the Autobiography brings us to Mukunda Lal Ghosh, the man.
However, the book is self- professedly not about the man but about the Yogi.
The Autobiography is not a novel, strictly speaking, but it does have a principal
narrative arc. Its structure pivots on the relationship between Yogananda and his
guru, Sri Yukteswar, as a reflection of the broader theme of Yogananda’s spiritual
progression. The chief “drama” of the work is to be found here. Tangential to this
plot line, the Autobiography has two semi- didactic concerns: an exploration of the
role of superpowers in relation to what it means to be a Yogi, and a metaphysical
treatise.