Читать книгу Sexuality, Magic & Perversion - Francis King - Страница 15

There is some resemblance between the theoretical aspects of Tantricism and the ancient Indian Siddha cult. The main emphasis of this latter movement is on a psycho-physical yogic process designed to achieve spiritual development through an intense physical development supposedly leading to a vast extension of the life-span or even actual immortality. The cult, which in somewhat altered form survives at the present day, holds that “death may be either put off ad libitum by a special course of re-strengthening and revitalizing the body so as to put it permanently en rapport with the world of sense, or be ended definitively by dematerialising and spiritualising the body, according to prescription, so that it disappears in time in a celestial form from the world of sense, and finds its permanent abode in the transcendental glory of God”.¹ This immortality is to be achieved by “drinking” the “nectar” dripping from the “moon” in the thousand-petalled lotus, the chakra, or psycho-spiritual centre, believed to be situated above the head.²

It is probable that the Siddha cult evolved out of ancient Indian alchemy, which, like later western alchemy, was not purely a primitive chemistry but was an amalgam of a physical praxis with mystical techniques and speculations having some similarity with those of Tantricism. According to Dr. V. V. Raman Shastri (op. cit.) there was an ancient vernacular tradition that the Siddhas were “a band of death-defying theriacal and therapeutic alchemists indebted in all respects to Bhoga, a pre-Christian Taoist immigrant from China, who, in his methods of keying up the body of impure matter through reverberation and projection to the pitch of practically cancelling demise, merely sought to promulgate the lesser athanasic precepts of Lao-tse, since the vital objective of the Tao-Teh-King is the transfiguration of the immortalised ethereal body into a permanent garment of celestial virtue, in order to fit it to associate to eternity with the Tao”.

It seems probable that the name (Bhoga) of this legendary alchemist was a corruption of the Chinese Bo-yang, one of the titles of Lao-tse, to whose authorship the alchemical classic Tsan-tung-chi (“Doctrine Regarding the Three Similars”)³ was falsely attributed. Whether or not this was so, it is in any case likely that there was a certain amount of truth in the traditional belief that the doctrines of the Siddhas had a Chinese origin, for a sexo-yogic alchemical school putting great emphasis on the prolongation of life survived in China proper until the Communist takeover in 1949, and at the present time it still has living adepts in Hong Kong and amongst the overseas Chinese of South-East Asia.

The date of the origin of alchemy in China is uncertain, but it was clearly very early, tradition averring that it was first practised in the fourth century B.C. by a certain Dzou Yen, a magician whose miracles included ripening millet in a cold climate by playing music on a set of warm pipes.

As early as 144 B.C. an imperial edict forbade the manufacture of alchemical gold—on the ground that unsuccessful experimenters turned to robbery and murder in order to regain the wealth they had squandered—but the prohibition does not seem to have extended to the search for the pill of immortality; for only eleven years after the prohibition the Emperor gave a friendly reception to an alchemist who claimed to have discovered the secret of eternal life by worshipping the Goddess of the Stove.⁴

The Chinese alchemical obsession with long life is illustrated by a story told of the same Bo-yang who wrote the previously mentioned Doctrine of the Three Similars. The tale, which comes from a collection entitled Lives of Immortals, tells how the alchemist, accompanied by three disciples and his pet dog, went up into the mountains in order to prepare a magical medicine.⁵ Having finished his manufacture of the pill of immortality he announced his intention of administering it to his dog; he did so and the creature immediately fell dead. Bo-yang turned to his disciples, saying, “The dog has died. Seemingly the medicine has not fully achieved the Divine Light. What shall we do?” The disciples replied by asking him whether he himself would be prepared to take the elixir. “Certainly,” he said, “I should be ashamed to return to the world admitting that I had failed to obtain immortality. To live without taking the elixir would be as bad for me as to take it and die.” Saying this he inserted the pill in his mouth and instantaneously expired. One of his disciples, a certain Yu, still retained a faith in the elixir, took it—and met the same fate as his master. The other two disciples, less credulous than their fellow, decided not to take the medicine, arguing that a few more years of mortal existence were preferable to a recipe for longevity that led to instant extinction; they left the mountain with the intention of subsequently returning with coffins for Bo-yang and Yu. As soon as they had gone Bo-yang revived from his seeming death and gave other pills—this time the genuine elixir—to the dog and the faithful Yu. Both were immediately restored to life and all three then “went the way of the immortals”—but not before meeting a woodcutter and giving him a letter addressed to the two doubting disciples telling them what had happened and pointing out that they had missed their chance of eternal life. The account concludes with the hardly surprising statement that the two “were filled with regret”.

An early text lays down the pre-conditions for achieving success in the practice of alchemy; the practitioner must fast for a hundred days, he must not be born under unfortunate planetary configurations, he must learn the art orally, from a Taoist master—books are only for beginners—he must worship the gods in a fitting manner and, above all, he must not be a civil servant. In spite of the semi-magical, semi-religious conception of the nature of alchemy that underlies these rules there is no doubt that at this early stage of the evolution of Taoist alchemy the manufacture of the elixir was still supposed to be achieved by a manipulation of physical substances. The nature of the substances used was decided by the application of the theory of the two opposites, Yin and Yang.

Yin and Yang were supposedly the two manifest aspects of the one eternal reality;⁶ from their action and interaction came the elements that made up the phenomenal world. Yang was considered to be fiery, active, male and solar in its nature while Yin was watery, passive, female and lunar. It was believed that vitality and longevity were essentially Yang in nature and therefore it was particularly upon supposedly Yang substances—such as gold, mercuric sulphide and sulphur⁷—that alchemical experimentation was concentrated.

By the end of the sixth century A.D. physical alchemy in China was in a state of decline; by the end of the first millennium it was all but extinct. From it, however, using much of its chemical terminology and many of its theoretical concepts evolved a number of closely related schools of interior psycho-spiritual alchemy in which the ting (the cauldron), the furnace, the lead and mercury that were to be transmuted into the gold of immortality, were all considered as component parts of the human practitioner of the art. At least one, and probably all, of these Taoist alchemical schools was largely concerned with sexuality and the generative process.

There is a curious dichotomy in both the Indian and Chinese attitudes to male sexuality. On the one hand sexual potency—indeed sexual athleticism—is regarded as being a desirable male attribute; the popular Indian press is full of advertisements for aphrodisiacs and tonics designed to increase or restore virility; one brand of tonic heads its advertisements with the words Become a Bed Breaker!, another (very popular with all classes of the population) has printed on its labels the stern injunction Reserved for Maharajahs and Very Rich Men. On the other hand, semen is regarded as something very precious, something that must not be wasted, and many men worry that they may be suffering from a quite imaginary disease called spermatorrhoea—an involuntary leakage of semen supposedly leading to physical and mental debility or even to death. This conception of semen as concentrated life-force, loss of which should at all costs be kept to a minimum, is not peculiar to the Far East but seems to be a widespread human belief, emanating from the deepest levels of the unconscious, and it is only in the last few decades that it has ceased to be part of the popularly accepted sexual wisdom of the west. In the last century one treatise, A Second Inquiry Into a Frequent Cause of Insanity in Young Men, described the evil effects produced by frequent masturbation and the consequent loss of the magical fluid.⁸

“The pale complexion, the emaciated form, the slouching gait, the clammy palm, the glassy or leaden eye and the averted gaze indicate the lunatic victim to this vice.

“Apathy, loss of memory, abeyance of concentrative power and manifestation of mind generally, combined with loss of self-reliance, and indisposition for or impulsiveness of action, irritability of temper, and incoherence of language, are the most characteristic mental phenomena of chronic dementia resulting from masturbation in young men.”

Some Victorian physicians even believed that an excessive loss of semen would be produced by sexual intercourse two or three times a week. Acton, a genito-urinary surgeon of some eminence, reported the case of a fellow medical practitioner who had been afflicted in this way;

“There was general debility, inaptitude to work … in fact, he thought he was losing his senses. The sight of one eye was affected … he married seven years ago, being then a hearty, healthy man, and it was only lately that he had been complaining. In answer to my further inquiry, he stated that since his marriage he had had connection two or three times a week, and often more than once a night! This one fact, I was obliged to tell him, sufficiently accounted for all his troubles. The symptoms he complained of were similar to those we find in boys who abuse themselves. It is true that it may take years to reduce some strong, healthy men, just as it may be a long time before some boys are prejudicially influenced, but the ill effects of excesses are sooner or later sure to follow.”

The teachers of Chinese sexual alchemy have been (and still are) quite as convinced of the evil effects of the loss of semen as were the Victorian proto-sexologists; some have even been of the opinion that the mere production of the fluid in the body leads to harmful results—thus a chapter of one text urges abstention from onions, leeks and garlic on the grounds that they are aphrodisiac and encourage the production of “generative fluid” while another section of the same instructional work argues that the untimely deaths of elderly people occur because they have allowed themselves to continue enjoying sexual intercourse, thus letting the “generative fluid” leak away and leaving them with no “vital resistance” against infection. In spite of the crudeness of such physiological conceptions it would be unfair to dismiss Taoist alchemy out of hand, for beneath the primitive biological beliefs and terminology is concealed an extremely subtle psycho-spiritual philosophy and technique designed to harness and transform the forces of the libido in order to attain adeptship—the “manufacture of the elixir of immortality”.

Chinese sexual alchemy conceives of semen as a physical product of what it calls “generative force”—the “essence of procreation” which has some resemblance to the libido of the depth-psychologists and more to the orgone energy of Wilhelm Reich.⁹ The first step in the process of manufacturing the pill, or elixir, of immortality is the prevention of the generative force from following its usual course (i.e. the production of semen) by the “lighting of the inner fire”. This is done by a type of regulated and deep breathing¹⁰ very similar to the pranayama of Indian Hatha Yoga. The breathing in brings pressure to bear on the generative force, which is situated in a crucible (i.e. a centre of psychic force more or less identical with an Indian chakra) in the lower abdomen, and causes it to rise up a psychic channel associated with the spine to the top of the head. The deep expiration of the breath then brings the force down through the (psychic) channel of function at the front of the body back to the crucible from whence it came.¹¹ The process of circulation is continued until the generative force is considered sufficiently purified to be ready to be transmuted into lead—which in this connection means something like the prana, vital energy, of Yoga—and then it moves up from the crucible, or psychic centre, in the lower abdomen to that situated in the solar plexus, where the transmutation takes place.

It must be emphasised that in the process briefly described above sexual excitation as such is not avoided; however, ejaculation is avoided and the force of sexual excitation is supposedly taken to be used in the creation of lead (vitality). Indeed, a total lack of any sexual excitation is considered to make the alchemical processes quite impossible of achievement; the Taoist master Chang San Feng said that in the case of elderly people who felt no spontaneous sexual arousal the practice of masturbation was a useful means of stimulating the generative force. He recommended that after the elderly male practitioner of alchemy had achieved an erection by this means he should commence the deep breathing exercises and visualisation of the circulation of the force and continue this process until the penis ceased to be tumescent—this cessation of erection being regarded as evidence that the alchemical agent (the generative force) had successfully been transferred to the psychic centre in the solar plexus.

After the successful transmutation of the generative force into lead (prana) the next stage is to raise the lead from the solar plexus crucible to the psychic centre associated with the head (supposedly situated in approximately the same position as the pineal gland) where it is to be transmuted into mercury (i.e. spiritual force) by yet another series of exercises involving deep breathing and the visualisation of orbiting streams of force.

The Taoist alchemical texts inform the student that, when this has been achieved, nocturnal emissions—the much-dreaded spontaneous loss of semen and the “magical” type force associated with it—will cease; he is warned, however, that when he has reached this happy state “prenatal vitality” will escape from the bowels in the form of wind. The breaking of wind is regarded as desirable when the wind is merely noxious gas evolving from decomposing food in the stomach and intestines, but the would-be alchemist is warned not to break wind if the “wind” is really “pre-natal vitality” and detailed instructions are given to him as to how this occurrence can be prevented. They involve placing the right middle finger on the “dragon centre” (the end of a psychic channel supposedly terminating in the palm of the left hand), simultaneously placing the left middle finger on the “tiger centre” (a similar psychic channel terminating in the palm of the right hand), raising the tongue to the palate,¹² contracting the anus and taking seven deep breaths. This procedure, students are assured, will spread vitality throughout the body and eliminate the tendency to break wind.¹³

In Taoist alchemy the eyes are regarded as positive (yang) and the rest of the body as negative (yin). Therefore when the vital force has been raised to the psychic head centre it is by rolling the eyes in a particular manner that the practitioner achieves the “inner copulation” that supposedly leads to the manifestation of spirit. This rolling of the eyes is performed in cycles of sixty—thirty-six times from left to right and then twenty-four times from right to left (in Taoism thirty-six is a yang number and twenty-four is a yin number). Each revolution of the eyes is done slowly, being accompanied by a full inspiration and expiration of the breath.

When spirit has manifested in the head centre it is driven down to the crucible in the lower abdomen (sometimes referred to as “the water centre”) in order to be “fixed” and stabilised. When this has been done the mercury (i.e. stabilised spirit) is enveloped by lead (vitality) which has previously been purified by being vibrated in a continuous ascent and descent of the psychic channel that links the psychic water centre with the psychic fire centre situated in the heart. The united lead and mercury form what is sometimes referred to as the immortal embryo.

The alchemist now begins to practise “immortal breathing”, often referred to as the self-winding (i.e. automatic) wheel of the law. This is done by accompanying every inspiration of the breath with the stream of force entering the body at the heels and travelling up to the brain and accompanying every expiration of the breath with a visualisation of the same force travelling down from the brain and out through the trunk. This leads to the production in the head centre of a divine food which nurtures the immortal seed situated in the water centre. The alchemical process is completed; all that remains is the quickening of the immortal embryo with spirit—another complex set of exercises enables this to take place—and the alchemist becomes ready to undertake the final stage of the work.

When the immortal seed has been nurtured to maturity—this is indicated by six signs¹⁴—the alchemist is ready to prepare the elixir of immortality. Guarding himself against destroying all that he has previously achieved (such destruction comes if the alchemist indulges in any one of the “seven passions”, the “ten excesses”, or the “nine unsettled breaths”) he gathers together the “four essentials of alchemy”—utensils, money, friends and a suitable place. The utensils are simple enough; a round wooden “bun”, covered in cotton, used to block the anus, and a clothes peg to put upon the nostrils. The money is required for the mundane purpose of purchasing food, the friends (who must also be alchemists) are required to attend to the physical needs of the practitioner and “to pinch his backbone when required”. The ideal place is an ancient Taoist temple on a mountain, far away from either cities or graveyards; “it is advisable to choose an ancient abode where previous masters have realised immortality so that it is free from disturbing demons and the practiser can enjoy spiritual protection from his enlightened predecessors” said Chao Pi Ch’en.