[note: I am still in the process of connecting the dots on the notes from this book; thus, the page looks a bit clumsy.]

This work was introduced to me as a product of immense creativity — it struck a very strong impression on those people. It was not easy to find (especially in a digital format) but a well-worn copy was available in Denmark's public libraries; I soon got ahold of it.

The subtitle, Body and Spirit in the Hidden History of the West, announces something ambitious — and Berman delivers a very exciting work, teeming with intercultural leaps, and all-encompassing connections across many different domains of knowledge. A "visible", commonly-agreed history of western society is confronted — and I must watch my words, as I tread into unfamiliar territory — with a barrage of concepts spanning from the jungian Void to the religious ascent; Berman gives weight to the psychic life, and acknowledges the role of magic and energy. It is an immensely quotable, dense and wild read.

somatic (adjective)

1: of, relating to, or affecting the body especially as distinguished from the germplasm

2: of or relating to the wall of the body

Berman starts by introducing the main argument: there is a fundamental and pervasive fault across western society which is a source of a great, misunderstood pain; it stems from a disconnect from the body, and we fall upon other mechanisms and practices to appease this fault — henceforth designated as nemo. Berman's argument is built upon theoretical predecessors for the theory of somatic fault, and (part of) the book's intent can eventually be summarized as such:

In all cultures, at all times, human identity is heavily conditioned by what happens to the infant body; this is where it all begins. I ask you, then, to sit back and let yourself go on a journey, a journey back in time, both personal and cultural, to the heart of human existence itself. And if, in the course of this journey, memories of your own childhood and infancy come up for you, that is all to the good. If that happens, put this book down, close your eyes, and try to recall as much of those early events as you can. For Reich was right: our cultural history is encoded in our bodies, and as you begin to sort one out, you will sort the other out as well. Let yourself move back and forth, then, between your own bodily history and an examination of larger cultural processes and assumptions. It is in this back-and-forth movement, I am convinced, that real understanding takes place.

The infancy is studied as a period of tremendous importance. Berman highlights a particular formative event for humans (and how a particular society avoids the fundamental fault) before departing on a short (but beautiful!) tangent towards the history of mirrors (because "[...] the story of the physical mirror is really a profile of the evolution of psychic process"), and the concept of a transitional object.

We have inherited a civilization in which the things that really matter in human life exist at the margin of our culture. What matters?

How birthing takes place matters; how infants are raised matters; having a rich and active dream life matters. Animals matter, and so does ontological security and the magic of personal interaction and healthy and passionate sexual expression. Career and prestige and putting a good face on it and the newest fashion in art or science do not matter. Coming to our senses means sorting this out once and for all. It also means becoming embodied. And the two ultimately amount to the same thing.