A Second Nature

A Second Nature by José Gabriel Alegría Sabogal
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is an art book. It is a book of esoterica. It is a meditation, and, if the author has his desire, an experience for the reader and viewer. It is a book to be used, not merely contemplated, though one would do well to slow down, not rush through, flipping from page-to-page. There is much here that can burrow between the folds of one's brain, slide behind the veil of the soul. This work demands more than just viewing and reading, it demands your participation in its journey, a path toward and, possibly, even to that hidden grotto inside yourself, beyond the pale of mere-sensory existence.

Granted, the art, which approaches the craftsmanship and style of the Renaissance masters (but more specifically, Durer), is beautiful, if work of such strangeness and morbidity can be laden with that descriptor. The writing is . . . overwrought, at times, but at times brilliantly insightful and poetic.

By definition, an esoteric work hides meaning from the uninitiated. This book can be enjoyed by the layman, simply on the merits of the surreal art contained therein. Sabogal's introduction (clumsily, at times) shows the beginning of the ways in which the work can be decrypted, but he leaves the work up to the contemplative to sort out, to find meaning for themselves. Those who will glean the most will be those who have sacrificed the most to be steeped in Wisdom and a knowledge of the Hidden. You know who you are.

Death plays a drum of human skin.
With a sound more beautiful and stronger
Than the beating of a human heart.
Therefore I must learn to dance.

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