The Mailer Review/Volume 13, 2019/Searching for Home
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| « | The Mailer Review • Volume 13 Number 1 • 2019 | » |
Boulder, CO: Shambhala Publications: 2019
134 pp. Paperback $16.95.
“I’ve always hated Zen.” That, predictably, is Norman Mailer shortly after meeting Lawrence Shainberg, author of the new memoir Four Men Shaking. Published in 2019 by Shambhala, the main narrative arc of the memoir takes place over a short time, recounting the final visit of Kyudo Nakagawa, a Zen master, to his SoHo zend in New York. Although brief, Four Men Shaking, a series of tight vignettes, flows back and forth over the last fifty years detailing significant moments of Shainberg’s life and his attempts to reconcile his career as a writer with his pursuit of Zen. This contradiction establishes the fundamental conflict of the memoir and the relationships Shainberg develops, mainly with his literary influences Samuel Beckett and Norman Mailer, and his Buddhist teacher, who Shainberg calls Roshi, or “old master.”
There is much in this memoir that will be of interest to readers of this journal, especially Shainberg’s accounts of his meetings with Beckett and Mailer. Shainberg links the former’s interest in “not-knowing, not-perceiving, the whole world of incompleteness” to his interest in Zen, while Mailer’s influence is one of conflict and passion about the external world, his honesty, and his ability to bring a novelist’s sensibility to journalism. Half-serious, Mailer’s above assessment of Zen was both a reaction to Shainberg’s first memoir, Ambivalent Zen, and a friendly goading of the writer that begins their friendship—one that continues through Mailer’s waning years, mostly through shared meals at Michael Shay’s, thumb wrestling, and discussion/debates.
Shainberg’s succinct and eloquent accounts of the relationships he developed with these three personalities in the last years of their lives underscore Shainberg’s attempts to find sanity in his own life. His memoir reads like a puzzle that he is trying to assemble where some pieces might be too big, some are misshapen, and some maybe missing. Sections like his friendship with Mailer and his zazen, or the Zen practice of “seated meditation,” seem antithetical to one another, like Shainberg is trying to assemble one puzzle from the pieces of several. This metaphor seems an appropriate one for describing his life specifically, and everyone’s generally. This seeming contradiction represents his interest in the “logical contradiction” of Zen and its goal, as articulated by Zen master Eihei Dogen, “To study Zen is to study the self. To study the self is to forget the self.”
And here lies Shainberg’s dilemma: “How could I forget my self when I was obsessed with the brain that generated it?” and elsewhere: “But essential nature . . . is formless, and the brain of course deals only in form.” In these instances, he refers to his work as a writer and his interest in neurology and the functioning of the brain. His early success as a writer stems from this latter interest. Brain Surgeon: An Intimate View of His World (1980) is a non-fiction portrait of a prima donna neurosurgeon who can do no wrong, even when he does. Godlike, Dr. James Brockman, or “the boss,” seems the epitome of the inflated ego that is as far from a Zen-self as one can be. In his novel Memories of Amnesia (1988), Shainberg’s protagonist, a talented neurosurgeon—perhaps a fictional Brockman, begins to suffer from brain damage which leads to his questioning reality and his own sense of self. It seems that Four Men Shaking is the logical descendant of this interest in the self vis-à-vis reality that finds its center in the author.
. . .
