Pihkal

(Review applies to Book I only).

Quite the hodgepodge: memoir, hagiography, trip reports. Friendship. Political commentary, self-exploration and growth. Pirates. Swordfights. True Love. Two of those aren't true.

It was informative, grating, fascinating, tedious. (Any similarities to an actual trip are purely coincidental.) (Or maybe not.) Part Two — “Alice's” Voice — I found especially irritating. Much of it read like the Dear Diary of an infatuated adolescent. I had trouble remembering that this was a forty-year-old woman; I felt embarrassed for her. And yet: there are eight post-it flags adorning paragraphs I found particularly memorable throughout the book; all eight are in Part Two. When she writes about insights it's like she's in my head, putting words to what I've felt but never been able to describe. She spells out what a positive psychedelic experience can be like, how transformative and surprising and humbling. The quietly all-encompassing new awareness that fades in intensity afterward but never really leaves our memory. The dippy truths I would feel too self-conscious ever to say aloud except among a small subset of friends, those who've been there or who intend to go.

I'm not sure who I'd recommend this book to. It's a long slog with a possibility of low ROI. I'm not really the target audience for this book and am not sure who is but should you—as a friend of mine—ever consider reading it, and want advice on whether or not to commit to it, whether it'd be worth your while, please reach out. Until then, remember that I love you, and that:

“Know that there is no safety anywhere. There never was and there never will be. Stop looking for it. Live with a fierce intent to waste nothing of yourself or life.”