38 Books Like Monastic Wanderers

I love the extraordinarily intricate ideology of the Nāth Yogis, or Siddhas, magisterially described in this study brimful with historical and religious data.

This is one of those books that blow your mind and leave you in awe. I am especially captivated by the efforts to translate the methodology of Indian alchemy into the practice of Yoga that the book describes. “As in metal, so in the body” was the motto of Indian Siddha practitioners who strived to imitate the process of perfecting the metals by perfecting the body.

It was exactly this book that set me on the path of doing Ph.D. research with a focus on the Nāth Yogis.  

I am humbled by Mallinson’s scholarship and the breadth of erudition displayed in this study. We have grown accustomed to associate Haṭha Yoga with what is, properly speaking, “modern postular Yoga,” and Mallinson’s book is one of those recent studies where the difference between the two is starkly demonstrated with his focus on an early text belonging to the former category and its subject matter.

I admire his attention to textual and historical details, attentiveness to the context, and deep understanding of the religious, cultural, and philosophical ideas and associated practices related to the subject matter. There is a whole world of erudition couched between the pages of this extraordinary book. 

What I like about this collection of essays on the Nāth Yogis is its breadth and diversity: scholars from five countries engage historical, religious, philosophical, folkloristic, textual and anthropological fields of pertinent inquiry. The reader is left with a feeling of truly coming closer to understanding the Nāths, once a very influential religious denomination that often considers itself separate from the dominant Hindu and, to a lesser degree, Muslim environments.

I admire the sense of self-esteem and self-identity displayed, for example, in the ideas about the inner worlds, the whole cosmos contained within the Yogi’s body, as described in David White’s contribution to the anthology. To my mind, the Nāths’ conceptions about the hidden properties of the human body represent the South Asian esotericism par excellence. This collection offers an insight into their world that truly abounds in erudite riches.  

I admire the author’s attempt to approach the conceptual universe of the Nāth Yogis with a focus on their philosophy. Not an easy task, given the fact that their semi-legendary founder, guru Gorakhnāth, was not a systematic philosopher. Leaving aside the issue of actual authorship, what has been exposed here contains a great deal of metaphysical depth and complexity.

It is a pity that the Sanskrit text mentioned in the subtitle is not translated. “Some seek nonduality,” the text commences, “while the others seek duality. They don’t know the full truth, which is devoid of both nonduality and duality.” While the lack of translation is lamentable, the ideas expressed in this relatively short Sanskrit text are copiously discussed in this book, which makes it a great read.       

I think Virginia Konchan is one of the fiercest voices in contemporary poetry. This collection, in particular, harnesses an eloquent fury that is humorous, scathing, vulnerable, and resolute. Each poem crackles in a way that I find fascinating and exhilarating. 

Anyone who has suffered heartbreak will connect with Konchan's vulnerability and trenchant commentary.

There’s a sort of electric thrill on opening a book, reading the first sentence, and realising that you are about to plunge into something strange, wonderful, and expansive. It’s like labouring up a hill towards a distant ridge and then, on cresting the ridge, finding a whole new unsuspected world opening up before you. It was like that for me when first reading Godric. “Five friends I had, and two of them snakes.” That’s the first line in the book. If, like me, you read that and are immediately interested, then read on, for you won’t be disappointed. Godric takes an almost forgotten figure from history, a 12th-century hermit, and, by the magic of an almost alchemical use of language, brings him and his times to life, neither diminishing their strangeness nor distancing him from the reader. 

Early Christian monks in the eastern Mediterranean chalked up many of their mental struggles to demonic interference—and yet their approaches to the problem of attention share some striking similarities to modern psychology.

Graiver makes the case that monks’ talk of demons was not a superstitious diagnosis but a pragmatic one: it helped monks try to strike a balance between monitoring their thoughts and thinking too hard about them, deal with unwanted thoughts before they became all-consuming, and figure how to keep it together when their thoughts were all over the place.

I love that this book takes early monks and modern psychologists equally seriously. And even if you don’t start blaming your problems on demons after reading it, you will still have learned a lot about the promises and perils of attention management.

You might recognize the author’s name – she is a regular contributor to the Opinion Page of The New York Times. In this book, she has used her journalistic skills to uncover the layers of Indra Devi, from her birth in Russia to her status in Hollywood as one of the first yoga teachers to the stars. Indra Devi was a longtime devotee of Krishnamurti, and the first-ever woman to convince the great yoga master Krishnamacharya to teach her yoga. I remember knowing about her back in the ’70s when I was a novice yogi/college student in southern California and Devi was still teaching privately in Los Angeles. But only through reading this book did I learn how much her work contributed to the current popularity and acceptance of yoga in western culture.

I really liked this book because beautiful, blonde, former model Saidman Yee (wife of the popular yoga teacher Rodney Yee) seems so perfect on the outside that one couldn’t imagine she’d ever have had a notable problem—let alone a seizure disorder or substance abuse issues. Growing up in Indiana, one of seven kids, the author ended up posing for glamour shots and making a name for herself in the fashion world. But inside she experienced anxiety and fear of failure. Saidman Yee’s vulnerability and authenticity shine in this candid story of how yoga helped her go within and honor her true self. Wonderful yoga sequences designed by Saidman Yee are included.

I first read this iconic memoir in 1970, and I still have the five-dollar hardcover I borrowed and never returned. I’ve read it many times now and teach courses on it, yet I find something new every time. Published in 1946, it’s more than a unique life story (in fact, Yogananda left out so much that I felt compelled to write a complete biography of him, The Life of Yogananda).

The book also offers a primer on Indian philosophy and yogic practices, profiles of extraordinary people, vivid glimpses of early 20th-century Indian culture, and eye-popping miracles and wonders, along with attempts to explain them rationally and scientifically. I never became a formal student of Yogananda, but I’ve learned an enormous amount from his seminal book.