The Man of Light returns home

“The Man of Light in Iranian Sufism” is an extremely difficult work to review. Small wonder, since French scholar and author Henry Corbin tries to analyze Shia and Sufi mysticism in a manner that gives justice to their mystical experiences. In other words, an “emic” perspective, to use the lingo of anthropologists. Not an easy topic! The book´s focal point is the Illuminationism of 12^th century Islamic mystic Suhrawardi. Also analyzed are certain writings by Najm Razi, Najmoddin Kobra, Semnani and Ruzbehan of Shiraz. They all represent an esoteric Sufi spirituality within Islam centered on Persia. It´s not clear to me whether these mystics were Sunni or Shia, or if it even matters. Corbin certainly gives them a Shiite spin.

The author tries to describe the various stages of the mystical ascent from the “well” of darkness and matter to union with the divine. It´s obvious from context that he somehow believes in this kind of spirituality himself, and Corbin is indeed considered an important fellow traveler to the so-called Traditionalist school of René Guénon and Fritjhof Schuon. One thing that struck me when reading the book is that it sounds polemical, but it´s never spelled out who Corbin might be polemicizing against. Other scholars? Or, more likely, other mystics? He rejects the notion that the darkness at the beginning of the mystical journey is the same as the darkness at its end, perhaps a polemic against those who confuse the pre-personal with the trans-personal, to use Ken Wilber´s terminology. The darkness of matter is dense and really dark, the “black light” of God is really not black at all but transparent as the night sky. Note also the paradoxical expression “black light”. Corbin is also opposed to those who claim that somehow light and darkness are united in God. This is interesting, since many mystics do indeed claim this. Corbin rejects this kind of pantheist understanding of God in favor of one closer to classical theism, where God is wholly good. In his understanding, Suhrawardi´s path is dualist rather than monist or pantheist. Light and darkness absolutely must be separated from each other. Indeed, the author believes that Suhrawardi was heavily indebted to Manichaeism, Mandaeism, and Zoroastrianism. All three have strongly dualistic cosmologies.

Corbin spends considerable time discussing something he calls “the symbolism of the pole”, which is connected to seeming veneration of the Pole Star and legends about a paradisiacal land in the far North (compare Hyperborea). Corbin believes that this should be interpreted esoterically – many Traditionalists seem to rather interpret it literally, spinning all kinds of speculations about Arctic Ur-Heimats of the Aryan race and what not. To the author, the North is esoterically really the East, where the sun rises. It also seems to be a kind of axis mundi (compare Eliade). Corbin even sees it as an implicit criticism of evolution, which has no point of orientation, simply meandering away on the horizontal plane. By contrast, mysticism is connected to a vertical axis of ascent to God, and hence has a true teleology. Corbin also attacks those who have a “collective” or “social” view of mysticism, presumably again some kind of pantheists who want to turn the mystic into one drop in a vast “divine” ocean. To the author, by contrast, the mystical path is strictly individual and marks individual liberation from the power of the collective.

The mystical path is associated with many strange and wonderful events, including a meeting with a female angel (this is interesting – many male mystics meet her!), encounters with the Heavenly Twin of the mystic, a walk across the Chinvat Bridge, and visions of colored lights. Some mystics consider the green light to be the highest and hence a sign that the seeker has finally reached God. Others claim that the highest one is the previously mentioned black light. During his journey, the mystic develops entirely new organs of perception, and it seems as if he eventually turns into a Man of Light, who is simultaneously both a unique individual and yet a heavenly archetype. I get the impression that the mystic has an esoteric anatomy (compare kundalini yoga). Corbin believes that there is a kind of astral world in between the material and divine realms, an astral world in which matter is somehow spiritualized. This “mundus imaginalis” seems to be wholly objective. What happens in this heavenly twin world is real enough, and in that sense, religious visions of supernatural realities are “literal”. Of course, the higher the mystic reaches, the more he does away with the distinction between object and subject, between outer and inner, until the question ceases to be meaningful at all.

While “The Man of Light in Iranian Sufism” says very little about Christianity, one can draw certain parallels with Christian notions, although mostly Gnostic-heretical ones. The dualism and complex cosmology is similar in kind to that of Christian Gnosticism. Orthodox Christian mystics claimed to have the power to temporary divinize their physical bodies already in this life, making them emit heavenly light. Note also Jesus on Mount Tabor. Further note the distinction Paul makes between earthly and heavenly bodies. The latter are presumably the same kind of bodies as those in the “mundus imaginalis”.

Although I found Henry Corbin´s book peculiar in the extreme, I admit that I also found it strangely soothing and alluring. Perhaps I too long for a meeting with the Heavenly Twin and the Visio Smaragdina…