ON A BURMESE RIVER

FROM THE NOTEBOOK OF ALEISTER CROWLEY

(PART I)

Published in the U.K. Vanity Fair

London, England

3 February 1909

(page 135)

In November 1901, I was in Madras, endeavouring to get to Calcutta by sea, en route for the Expedition to K2, described last summer in these pages. It was by no means an easy business to get aboard the Dupleix. A cyclone was raging in the Bay of Bengal, and the Dupleix had been beaten back down the coast, so that I was a day late in getting on board. The cyclone continued with a good deal of vigour for the next two days, but, on the third day, the weather somewhat abated, and the rest of the voyage to Calcutta was pleasant enough.

The ascent of the River Hooghly was most fascinating, especially to one of my zigzag temperament. The course taken by the ship was more like that of a figure-skater that anything else. On arriving at the landing-stage I was, much to my surprise, met by my friend Lambe. I had informed him of my arrival, it is true, but I had not the least idea that he would trouble himself to meet me, much less that he would drive me off to his bungalow and put me up for a month. The Anglo-Indian is indeed hospitable. It must be remembered that our previous acquaintance had only been of some twelve hours’ duration.

Of course, Calcutta represents civilization and, consequently, nothing of interest can happen. The time I spent there was filled up with tennis and cricket, billiards and Ping-Pong, while every Saturday we went off to the racing.

Pleasant as was life in Calcutta I did not find it agree with my health very well, fever being continuous, or nearly so. I managed, however, to get through a fair amount of work, and spent two of three hours a day in learning Hindustani. I also intended to learn some Tibetan, but could not get a munshi in Calcutta, and I had to content myself with private work. I consequently decided to go and look up Allan [Allan Bennett] (the Buddhist Monk who visited England in 1908) in Burma, and to combine that with some sort of shooting or exploring trip, my particular wish being to cross the Arakan Hills from the Irrawaddy to the sea.

Mr. Edward Thornton accompanied me to Burma. He was anxious to get a change and some sea-air, and promised himself great opportunities for sketching. The voyage was very pleasant. On arrival at Rangoon I got a sharp attack of fever. The next day, however, I was quite well enough to go to see the Shwe Dagon Pagoda, which has been so often described, though justice can never really be done to it. On the whole, I think that the Burmese system of architecture is by no means an artistic success. Everything is exquisite in detail, but the grand comprehensive grasp of true mastery is lacking—a great contrast to the temples of Southern India, whose towers are decorated with thousands of images, so that nowhere is a line apparent. Yet, while each of these images is beautiful in itself and in its proper place, there is a subtle curve of the most exquisite delicacy visible to the inward eye, a curve whose grandeur and restraint are nowhere equalled, save in the very finest monuments of Greek and Egyptian art. But there is none of this in the Shwe Dagon and the hundreds of pagodas that cluster around it. The sense of repose is everywhere lacking.

Rangoon, to the stranger, is an exceedingly dull town. I looked up several of the authorities to obtain facilities for my projected journey; in particular, I got a letter to the Forest Commissioner of the District, on whom I relied to get my elephants. On the 25th January we left by train for Prome late at night. We took one servant, named Peter, a Madrasi boy. I asked him his religion, and he said that he was “a free man, a Roman Catholic.” Some people’s ideas of freedom are peculiar. Needless to say, he was a scoundrel of the first water.

On Wednesday morning we arrived at Prome, and immediately went on board the Steam ferry Amherst. It is a five hours’ journey to Thayetmyo, where we arrived in the heat of the day, after a very pleasant journey, thanks partly to the beauty of the scenery, but perhaps more to the geniality of the Captain. We got three Bullock carts for our transport, and started the next morning, stopping at Natha for lunch after a pleasant journey of ten miles. After lunch, however we next went to Kyoukgyi.

(To Be Continued)