The Writing of A Spiritual Adventure

Abstract

It been known ever since Eliade published the first volume of his excerpts1 that he had written a play in October-November 1946, called Aventura spirituala2 A Spiritual Adventure), which had never been published. His Romanian biographer, Mircea Handoca, visited him in Paris in September 1985 and, among other inquired concerning the existence of the play. The Professor told him he possessed a copy of it in Chicago and would mail it to him when he returned. Unfortunately, Eliade died a few months later without having sent it. However, in 2008 when the University of Chicago Library issued a Finding Aid for the Eliade papers contained among its Special Collections, was able to locate the play and obtain a copy of the original typescript.3There are about a dozen references to the play in the journal fragments Eliade selected for publication. However, the unabridged journal, also found in the Eliade Special Collection (a manuscript nearly five times the length of the published one),4 contains more than twice the amount of material about the writing of the play. The complete Journal reveals a fascinating account of the trials through which the author passed as he was writing it and his evaluation of it when it was finished.The first entry in which the play is mentioned is dated 3 October 1946, when Eliade had been a refugee in Paris for about a year. Quoted only partially in Fragments, it deserves to be reproduced in full:For some time now, before falling asleep, I've been again by the obsession of a play first saw one evening in December 1944, walking along the deserted terraces of the Estoni, when was staying with the Costes.5 remember announced the play upon returning home, and told them I'd start writing it as soon as moved to rue Suadade 13, at Cascais. It was a way - coded for others - of meeting again with Nina. Act would have taken place on an island with a lighthouse. hoped that the waves breaking on my terrace at out new residence would help me recover the inspiration. But once settled at nr. 13 rua Suadade, was caught up in other things: moods of sadness and melancholy, scientific6 and philosophical interests, etc. Only in the summer of 1945, for a moment, was tempted to begin this Eurydice.1 The move to Paris [in September 1945], however, suspended any literary plan.I see now, however, the first scene. No longer is it an island - but the bank of a canal in the [Danube] Delta. The problem, the characters, the dramatic treatment have remained the same. Sometimes the temptation is so great that sit for more than an hour in the darkness with my eyes open, observing my characters, listening to them, trying to see their faces more clearly. If were to start, believe could write it in a few days. But I've sworn not to do anything else until I've finished the first chapter of Prolegomene? And, as usual, this interdiction from working on anything outside of a text already begun does not gain me any more free time or extra spiritual energy for writing the text. What I'm writing is just as hasty and fragmented as if I'd written Prolegomene concurrently with Eurydice.The next reference is dated 16 October, when, on a book-buying excursion, he finds himself thinking intently about his play. Suddenly he sees the plot changing: an episode flashes before his eyes that he doesn't like. In order to settle things, he goes out for another walk, and when he returns, he has the play written mentally from start to finish. He begins to write on paper the next day, at midnight, and by 1 :30 he three pages written - puzzled by the discoveries he is making.On 18 October, a busy day, he could find only a few afternoon hours free for literary creation. I wrote four pages of the play, he records, interrupting myself frequently to prevent 'inspiration' from leading me down who knows what lost paths. If my interest for the play holds up for at least a week, I'm sure I'll finish it. …