I don’t generally read very much nonfiction these days—there’s enough stellar genre fiction being released to keep me busy reading eight hours a day, seven days a week—but I received a book a while back from Amherst based Prometheus Books, which publishes top-notch science fiction and fantasy through its Pyr imprint, and thinking it was some kind of a reference book exploring Utopian world-building in SF/fantasy (its subtitle was “A Subtle Search for the Best Possible World”) I picked it up, in large part due to the eye-catching cover art from artist extraordinaire Jess Lindsay.
What I subsequently read was a book that was almost impossible to categorize. It’s an amalgam of fascinating personal anecdotes from a man who has traveled the world, existential philosophy, speculation and deep reflection with a kind of cool “neo-shamanistic” undertone. The press release that accompanied Hating Perfection described it thusly: “The best heaven and the worst hell are the same place. Travel with author John F. Williams into the jungles of Laos and into a new understanding of existence. In lively short stories, Hating Perfection shows the everyday world as uncanny, equally strange as the imaginary worlds of Borges or Kafka. This engrossing, strikingly original book invites you to experience your life in a new way…”
It all begins in Luang Prabang, the former capital of Laos, with a story about Williams, his wife Lee Ming, and an adventurous acquaintance traveling down the Mekong River to a remote village legendary for producing a highly alcoholic and quite possibly hallucinogenic beverage called Whiskey Lao—“madness for sale at one dollar per bottle.” After Williams imbibes, “the first alterations to consciousness came in seconds. Within three minutes I was transmogrified from nimble biped to heavy machinery. Basic ambulation now required heightened awareness. Evidently, the one-dollar bottle contained enough Mekong madness to stupefy several adult elephants.”
This altered state, it seems, is the launching point of Williams’ exploration into consciousness, perception, and the ongoing struggle to “conduct our lives successfully.”
In the ensuing chapters, he asserts: “Our frequently vile world has no flaws… any alternative world would be worse.” Williams even goes as far as to state: “Planet Earth has large amounts of suffering, injustice and deliberate cruelty. Nevertheless, I make these claims: Our universe is the best possible world. Everything in it happens for the best. Not the smallest detail anywhere can be improved. And that perfection explains why we exist. Understanding it allows us to view our universe and our lives from a new perspective.”
It all begins with humankind’s facility to compare: What is a goodness without an evil to compare it to? A pain and a pleasure? A beauty and an ugliness? In some parts of the world living in a mud hut would be seen as a nightmarish existence but in other areas, that same hut would be looked upon with envy. And in all of our comparative life experiences, there is a balance. “…we are happy and unhappy, successful and unsuccessful, fine and base, wise and foolish, all as part of our subtle experience. Our world is the most subtle possible. Therefore it doles out happiness, unhappiness, success, failure, enlightenment, mystification, and so on, according to the most subtle possible pattern of experience.”
I don’t profess to be a philosopher—and I’m sure I’ve missed significant points throughout this book—but I experienced a (subtle) sense of optimism after finishing Hating Perfection. Yes, we live in a world filled with tragedy and horror but there is also beauty, love and awe-inspiring transcendence. The universe isn’t perfect. Our world isn’t perfect. We’re certainly not perfect. But amidst all of that imperfection, there is a strange magnificence in it all. By understanding and embracing the totality of existence—“…it shows us wonders, and burns us to ashes”—we'll live a richer life.
When I was younger I went through a fungal-fueled Carlos Castaneda phase (The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge, A Separate Reality: Further Conversations with Don Juan, etc.) and Hating Perfection was, in many ways, a comparable read. Those interested in books about expanded consciousness and/or existential philosophy should definitely check out this unique book—bottle of Whiskey Lao not included.
Paul Goat Allen has been a full-time book reviewer specializing in genre fiction for almost the last two decades and has written more than 6,000 reviews for companies like Publishers Weekly, The Chicago Tribune, and BarnesandNoble.com. In his free time, he reads.
