I
’dneverbeentoAsia–
excepttovisitrelativesin
India– whenI pickedup
PeterMatthiessen’sTheSnowLeopardin1980.I hadno
interestinBuddhism,andMatthiessen’smeticulous,
NewYorker-styleaccountofa scientificexpeditionintorugged
mountainswasn’tat allthekindofthingI wantedintheage
ofHunterS ThompsonandTomWolfe.A snowleopardwas
aboutasrelevanttomeasa snowmobile;I waslivinginthe
spaciousplainsofpossibilityknownasCalifornia.
ButasI mademywaythroughthebook,I sawhowmuch,
likeanydeepjourney,it wastherecordofa tripintoconfusion
andlossandhopeaswell.Matthiessenhadlosthisyoungwife- herfamilynamewasLove– tocancerjustbeforeembarking
onhistrip.Hiseight-year-oldsonwasanxiouslyawaitinghim
at home.Hemightalmosthavebeenona journeyofpurgation,
shavinghisheadat theoutsetandlabouringunder 60 pounds
oflentils.A triptotheInnerDolporegionofNepal,barely
seenbyforeigners,mighthavebeenthesurfaceadventure
ofthebook;buttheheartofit wasthestoryofhowtocome
totermswithgriefina high,clearsettingwhereonehasfew
distractionsandnowheretohide.
Matthiessen’scrystallinedescriptionsoftheworntemples
andelevatingvistasoftheHighHimalayaareinvigorating;
hisbookshineswiththestartlingclarityof18,000-foot
monasteriesandcobaltskies.Buthe’shonestenoughtotell
usthatthewiseLamahehaslongedtofindturnsouttobe
a “crippledmonkwhowascuringthegoatskininyakbutter
andbrains”.Hisascentis a taleofblistersandminus-20-degree
days,ofcorpsesalongthewayandbrusheswithdeath.Though
manyofhisSherpasareheroicandkind,theonewhofascinates
himhasa shadowy,almostcriminalaspect,asofthedemons
who dance across the walls of the temples that surround them.
Thepointofthebook,really,is that
Matthiessenneverseestheshyand
elusivecreaturehe’ssetouttospot,
evenashedoescomeuponsomehiddenpartsofhimself.
A destinationformeis alwaysanentranceaswell.I
travelledtoTibetalmostassoonasit wasopened,quickened
byMatthiessen’sluminoussentences,andthenI headedto
Nepal,thoughnevermakingit quiteasfarasInnerDolpo.
I begantravellingtoBhutanandLadakhandTibetagain,
andagain.Quiteoften,spendingmyspringsina modest
guesthouseacrosstheroadfromtheDalaiLama’shomein
Dharamsala,inthefoothillsoftheHimalayas,I wasreminded
thatthere’ssomethingaboutthathighsunshine,thethunk
ofwoodbeingchopped,thesoundofdogsbarkinginthe
night,thesmilesthatshinefrombroad,ruddyfacesthat
speakstosomeuniversalhomesickness.
PerhapsI’dhavefoundmywaytothesemagicalplaces
anyway.ButTheSnowLeopardremindedmethattheplaces
themselvesareonlyasgoodasthequestionstheyraiseand
theissuestheyleaveunresolved.PeterMatthiessencame
backfromhistripclarifiedinsomeways,butstill“mutilated,
murderous”,asheputsit,restlessandwoundedandquick-
tempered.A bookthatpullsonetowardsa destination
doesnotsugar-coatreality,butgivesusthingsastheyare,
unadornedandprickly.
SixorsevenreadingsofTheSnowLeopardlater,I’mstill
drawnbacktoitslandscapeof“snowandsilence,windand
blue”,astoa riddlethatremindsusthatnothingevergoes
quitethewaywehope– andyet,if thestruggleis honest,
someclarifyinglightis alwaystobefound.
■PicoIyeris theauthorof 15books,includingtwoworksthat
cameoutin 2019onhisadoptedhomenearKyoto,Autumn
Lightand A Beginner’s Guide to Japan.➤The SnowLeopardbyPeterMatthiessen
PICO IYER