been mentioned: Russell overlooks Stockton’s emphasis on Monroe’s interest in the Earth changes. If Stockton’s account is to be believed, then Monroe himself was not immune to some degree of the Myth of the Great Ending. One further disconnection is worth noting. Felser has quoted Monroe’s (1971) description, from Journeys Out of the Body, chapter 8, of the place he affectionately called “Home” (pp. 123−125), a heaven where sights and sounds are perfect; but Monroe (1994) later stated in Ultimate Journey that “Home” is a false heaven operating on “a repeating loop” and that the resulting boredom is why his spirit had struck out for new destinations in the first place (p. 26). “Home” is “a blind alley” (p. 209). Had Felser mentioned the whole story of “Home,” he could have used Monroe’s realization to illustrate a key principle that comes near the end of the book: “The final lesson, of course, is: There is no final lesson, no different overview that is not, in the end, merely provisional” (p. 206). Felser’s advice to readers, which borrows especially from Roberts and Monroe but also from Jung and Campbell, breaks down into two categories. The first contains habits of mind. Felser advises what Roberts called “psychic naturalism,” which “blasts the human imagination wide open, freeing it from the decaying rusty shackles of all the prevailing shopworn myths of the past, including and especially the Myth of the Great Ending in its more literal,
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stupefying versions” (p. 152). In order to describe Monroe’s experiences, Felser has coined two further terms: radical iconoclasm, in which “radical” implies a thorough, complete inquiry into the root causes of something, and iconoclasm suggests a willingness to shatter preconceptions; and radical empiricism, in which radical means inclusive of nonphysical experience, and empiricism holds that experience always trumps belief. Felser’s second wave of advice concerns actual behaviors—ways to end one’s own world. Following Jung, he urges us to spend time in nature, record our dreams, and create art. He also counsels us to follow our dreams, or as Campbell stated, to “follow your bliss” (p. 127). Next Page 14 TMI JOURNAL 2012 The Myth of the Great Ending deals with heavyweight ideas in a clear, accessible, and sometimes even folksy style (e.g., “‘Whatever floats your boat,’ as the saying goes” [p. 113]). It takes a deeply learned, masterful writer to communicate complex concepts effectively to a general audience, and in this respect the book is highly successful. Yet the most engaging sections are not those that are philosophical or psychological but those in which the author—our fellow explorer—shares
his own experiences. These include dreams and visions that foretold 9/11, an experience of Itzhak Bentov’s idea of the “oscillating universe,” a beautiful experience in which a lucid dream became an OBE, and a discussion with a colleague who helped him put his work life in proper perspective. One may surmise, in conclusion, that Felser is a man whose lifestyle illustrates Jung’s (1967) idea that “Nature must not win the game, but she cannot lose” (p. 184). Jung means that, though the unconscious should not be allowed to overcome the gains that consciousness has made, we must augment reason and technology by reconnecting with the nature within us and around us. If nature is ignored, it will bite us, much as the unconscious compensates for consciousness. It appears from the biography at the end of the book that Felser has struck such a balance: “He and his wife, along with their golden retriever, make their home in suburban New Jersey but get away to Maine whenever they can” (n.p.). He might disagree, but he has evidently taken to heart the emphasis that the Myth of the Great Ending “serves as a coded reminder of the true magic that is still available in the present moment when we choose to align ourselves with nature and with our own true, deepest nature” (p. 209). Matthew Fike is a professor of English at Winthrop University in Rock Hill, South Carolina. References