Abundance Now, Harmony Later
Mike King

SUPER CONSCIOUSNESS: THE QUEST FOR THE PEAK EXPERIENCE
Colin Wilson
Watkins Publishing, 2009, 272 pp.,
£6.66 p/b ISBN 978-1905857982

Colin Wilson has consistently made one of the most perceptive articulations of a specific and universal problem in human nature, the problem of what he calls the ‘Outsider’. One does not have to agree with his prognosis to find the precision of his thought to be highly illuminating. His new book Super Consciousness: The Quest for Peak Experience is something of a recapitulation of his seminal work The Outsider, and begins: ‘I am now 75, and most of my life has been devoted to a search for what might be called ‘the mechanisms of the Peak Experience’, or ‘power consciousness’.

The Outsider, published in 1956, was a literary sensation that placed Wilson – who was only 24 at the time – amongst the leading writers of his age. His stardom was short-lived however as a critical press turned against him after a minor scandal. His second book was pilloried by much the same people who had raved about his first one, but Wilson persisted and has built up a considerable following. I confess to having only read his first and last works, but in re-reading The Outsider earlier this year was greatly impressed with it, and developed the idea of ‘outsider scholarship’ from it for a conference paper delivered recently in Luxembourg. I define this scholarship as one that lies outside the academy, involves ‘big-picture’ thinking, and is capable of seeing very fast the salient features of things: novels, peoples, disciplines and ideas. This is Wilson’s gift as a writer.

There is however a more personal reason why both books speak to me so vividly, and this is the almost spooky perception that when Wilson dissects the personalities of individuals like Van Gogh and Nijinsky, he could have been talking about my father, the 1950s sculptor Peter King. In other words from a very early age I too was preoccupied with the problem of the Outsider, and how to avoid the ‘crash’ that so often accompanies intense creative effort, a crash in my father’s case that led to his death at the age of 29. I have photographs of him with staring eyes, perhaps not so different to Nijinsky’s, who also died at the same age, after a period of superhuman creative effort. So Wilson’s question, how peak experience, power consciousness or super-consciousness can be achieved is hedged around with the question of how one can stop it killing one.

What Wilson did, which perhaps alienated him from an increasingly materialistic mainstream, was to insist that the Outsider’s problem is at its core a religious problem. He didn’t mean ‘religion’ in the sense of church-going, but more in the sense of a mystical intensity, one that drove for example Blake, Van Gogh, Nijinsky and the founder of the Quakers, George Fox. Indeed intensity is central to the problem, as Wilson said in 1956: ‘the primary aim is to live more abundantly at any cost. Harmony can come later.’ So what has over a half-century of reflection on the problem of intensity he so brilliantly dissected in The Outsider led to in his new work? He has clearly followed all the key intellectual developments during this time, and has interesting observations to make on Phenomenology and the thought of Derrida for example. Central to his investigation is the Romantic sensibility, which both seeks this greater abundance, but so easily crashes in depression, nihilism or suicide. He takes Beckett to task for the nihilism in Endgame: the work probes the right issues, but is ultimately lazy. For Wilson an effort must be made, and his openness to a huge range of thought, and his assiduous study of it, is central to that effort. His clue however came in an obscure text that T. S. Eliot referenced in The Wasteland: the Bhagavad Gita. Wilson seems to have discovered this around the age of 16, and put its central idea of the identity of Atman (self) with Brahman (cosmos) into practise as a daily meditation, quite without the benefit of a guru or spiritual teacher.

Now in his seventies, he concludes that humans have eight levels of consciousness, and that peak experiences are glimpses of higher levels. Without any such glimpse even the most intensely creative minds, such as Beckett’s, will fall into nihilism, because the peaks that they do know are always followed by exhaustion. Where Wilson now finds a place in contemporary thought is with the conviction that ‘man is on the point of an evolutionary leap of consciousness.’ More people will spend more time in the higher states, all the way up to level seven, at which point there is boundless energy, effortless creativity – and no ‘downer’ after the high.

Now, I part company with Wilson on this point: I am not sure that consciousness evolves in this way, mainly because I am not sure how you would falsify the proposition. This matters little however, and neither does my own instinct that the key to the Outsider problem actually lies in Level 8 of his scheme, which he says ‘is not at present our affair.’ This is the mystical level of consciousness which for Wilson is constituted by a set of paradoxes, such as ‘I am everything and nothing’. The fear of all creative people I think is that level 8 would spell the end of the tension out of which creativity arises: it would lead to harmony, not the ‘abundance’ sought by the Outsider. Perhaps they are right.

Whatever we might think of Wilson’s prognosis for human consciousness, or of his specific routes to peak experience, I can’t think of anyone who has so assiduously explored the human crisis of outsiders such as Nijinsky and Nietzsche – noting that the same individual was curiously witness to both their onsets of insanity – and all those blessed (or perhaps cursed) by superhuman creative outpourings. I only wish that my father, who was already descending into the darkness of his own demise when the Outsider was published, had been able to read it and understand its warnings and wisdom. Super Consciousness in turn would have shown him that creativity and longevity are not necessarily enemies. And if Wilson is right, that human consciousness is evolving, then more and more people will survive the gift of genius.