This is part of a chapter-by-chapter review of Robin Sharma’s ‘The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari’. All posts will be linked back to the first post in this review, here.

Chapter Three: The Miraculous Transformation of Julian Mantle

So, Julian is back, miraculously rejuvenated. We now learn more about what happened to him in the aftermath of his heart attack:

His doctor advised him he must either ‘give up the Law or give up his life’, and, faced with those options, he sensibly went for door number 1. (This does, in fairness, explain why he chucked his career altogether rather than becoming a public defender.) Having resigned from work, he then decided to go on a ‘spiritual voyage’ to India because he’d always been fascinated by its ‘ancient culture and mystical traditions’. So he sold everything except what he could fit in a rucksack, and started travelling round India, where he had an amazing time meeting new people, seeing the sights, and enjoying and appreciating the beauty in life.

Apparently, however, this was not enough for him; he was also on a ‘personal odyssey of the self’ and wanted to connect to India’s ‘vast pool of ancient wisdom on living a more rewarding, fulfilling, and enlightened life’. From the description he gives John, his travels around India were already giving him a rewarding, fulfilling, and enlightened life without the need of any ‘ancient wisdom’, but he remained fixed on the idea that there was some kind of better Ancient Wisdom out there just eluding him. That sounds like a good way to miss out on just enjoying the moment.

(It also strikes me that this seems to be Julian’s overachiever tendencies striking again. When he was a lawyer, he was a workaholic terrified of missing a detail. Now that he’s a retired backpacker, he can’t just enjoy the fact that he’s found a happy and fulfilling life; he has to be on a Quest for Ancient Mysticism.)

But, given the type of book this is, he is of course proved correct. He initially thinks he’s found the guru he wants in Kashmir, where he meets Yogi Krishnan, another retired lawyer (who became caretaker of a temple after dropping out of his particular rat race, because he wants to serve others and has for unknown reasons also not gone the public defender route). But, no, apparently there are bigger and better gurus out there:

“For as long as I have been caring for this temple in this little village, I have heard whisperings of a mystical band of sages living high in the Himalayas. Legend has it that they have discovered some sort of system that will profoundly improve the quality of anyone’s life – and I don’t just mean physically. It is supposed to be a holistic, integrated set of ageless principles and timeless techniquest to liberate the potential of the mind, body and soul.”

These mystical sages are known as the Great Sages of Sivana because Sivana means ‘oasis of enlightenment’. However, nobody knows where they actually live, except that it’s somewhere in the higher reaches of the Himalayas where people who try to find them end up suffering ‘tragic consequences’ from the treacherous climbing conditions there. There is no information given as to how, in this case, anyone actually knows they have this amazing system, but let’s gloss over that (hey, the book does); they absolutely have this Ancient Mystical Wisdom that, if you can prove yourself worthy find your way through the mountains to them, will give you the Meaning Of Life that you seek.

So, we’re going with the Hermit Guru trope, but we also seem to be going full-on Magical Asian. Pointing out the latter feels both necessary and awkward, because, after all, I’m ethnically white and Robin Sharma (raised in Canada) is ethnically Asian. So I’ve worried about being that white person who decides to tell POC that they’re Doing Race Issues Wrong. However, it has also now occurred to me that Sharma is doing this very deliberately. While he probably wouldn’t have known the name and trope definition, he is subtly positioning himself as the Magical Asian from whom his readers/the people who attend his courses can learn. He’s not addressing race issues, he’s doing product branding.

Anyway, Julian sets off bright and early the next day, having specifically decided not to hire a guide for the mountains because ‘for some strange reason, his instincts told him that this was one journey he would have to make alone’. It’s not mentioned whether his instincts told him that it would be a bloody good idea to buy decent camping equipment and proper shoes first. Apparently the small detail that no-one has any idea where to find the Sages of Sivana presents no problem because Julian has ‘some sort of inner compass nudging me gently towards my destination’. Also, there’s a path.

So, Julian spends a week walking up this supposedly treacherous mountain enjoying the view, experiencing no apparent problems from the climb, his lack of preparation, or his life-threatening heart condition. I suppose this part was aimed at people who want to feel they’ve climbed a treacherous mountain in search of wisdom without having even to read about the experience of climbing a treacherous mountain.

After a week of this, he sees a figure ahead of him, wearing a long red robe with a dark blue hood. The figure initially ignores Julian’s shouts and starts running up the path, but then stops when Julian calls out asking for his help to find Sivana. Julian tells him he’s been travelling for seven days ‘with little food and water’, so I guess that’s a no to the question of whether he prepared properly for this climb. He gets a look at the traveller, who has ‘striking features’ and ‘penetrating eyes’ and is carrying a small basket of beautiful flowers, and concludes that this man must be one of the Sages of Sivana himself. This does indeed prove to be the case and, because this book is not great on realism, this man who supposedly lives in an incredibly remote village in the Himalayas with no contact with the outside world is fluent in English. Well, I guess that was a stroke of luck.

The Sage is willing to take him to their temple, which is still ‘many hours’ away, and agrees that the Sages will teach him their secrets, but first he wants Julian to promise something:

“Upon learning these timeless truths you must return to your homeland in the West and share this wisdom with all those who need to hear it. Though we are isolated here in these magical mountains, we are aware of the turmoil your world is in. Good people are losing their way. You must give them the hope that they deserve. More importantly, you must give them the tools to fulfill their dreams. This is all I ask.”

I was going to comment that we’re going White Saviour here, but I’m not sure that’s the correct trope; after all, Julian isn’t saving the Sages. Is there a term for the Magical Asians wanting the White Guy to go save the other White Guys for them?

Anyway, Julian and the Sage set off climbing further up the path back to the temple, and the chapter ends with the sun starting to set. This is presented as an amazingly beautiful magical moment and the first day of the rest of Julian’s life, but just makes me wonder why this Sage is hours away from his home at sunset with nothing more than a basket of flowers, and how Julian’s going to make it through another night on the mountains. Well, same way he’s made it through the past several nights on this supposedly treacherous mountain, I guess; by the magical power of narrative convenience.