Tuesday, December 27, 2005





Whitley Strieber returns with another essay on the "visitors":

Twenty years ago tonight, at approximately three thirty in the morning on December 26, 1985, I heard odd noises and felt as if I had fallen out of bed. I opened my eyes to a scene of such extraordinary horror that I am still suffering from the effects of that moment, two decades later.

What I saw before me was a small room like the interior of a tent, populated by enormous insects. These insects were at once strange, distant-seeming creatures, totally unlike me and not communicating any sense of the human at all, and yet at the same time aware of me in a way that eloquently and terrifyingly signaled intelligence.


I'm inclined to accept Strieber's account as basically factual, albeit embellished by subjective impressions, buried desires and the understandable longing for meaning when confronted with the bizarre.

Throughout the years I've followed his tale I've experienced incredulity and not a little confusion -- but I've never laughed. (And I can't wait for his new novel, "The Grays.")

11 comments:

W.M. Bear said...

I found this essay profound and moving, the best thing of his I've read to date.

Mac said...

WMB--

I had some problems with the essay -- as noted in my post -- but I liked this one, too. The strange case of Mr. Strieber continues to fascinate me; he's at his best when trying to approximate the sheer *weirdness* of it all.

JEFM said...

I just quite don't buy it.

On the other hand, "poor guy" ... he say's he's out of it, but his words say "NO" ... it's contradiction to the max.

Jon

Doctor Fong said...

I read Whitley Strieber's book "Communion" when I was pretty young. It had quite an effect on me. This was a man how really believed what he was saying. He was terrified! I wasn't so convinced by later books. It was like Carlos Castaneda. His first couple books were amazing and very believable. 5 books later it seemed like he was stretched pretty thin and more concerned with making money than telling the truth.

Mac said...

Dr. Fong--

I know what you mean. Strieber's books become increasingly difficult to accept. It simply seems too bizarre and unlikely that all of this wild stuff has happened to one guy.

On the other hand, if nonhuman "visitors" are in fact involved (as Strieber claims), then who's to define "extraordinary"?

W.M. Bear said...

dr f -- That's an interesting comparison between Carlos and Streiber. I think they may indeed be coming from very similar places in some ways, though I'm not sure I agree that the later books for both are just about making money. I also think Carlos' early book "A Separate Reality" pretty well sums up, well, the reality of these kinds of experiences. Personally, I think they ARE real in some sense. It's just in defining WHAT sense that the difficulty arises.

Anais Anais said...

I believe the man is strongly traumatized by whatever happened to him. No one can be that creative and act that way ALL the TIME unless truly going through something as weird.

If it really happened, the story will never be old and need retelling and retelling to the new generations. He hads a great command of the spoken and written word, I don't now if that validates or invalidates what he says. But truly, that does not have anything to do with truth, does it?

I listen,enjoy and analyze all his writings. We know no one is right all the time, but some high % of what he says must be true. Other things may be wrong perceptions filtered by his mind and told as he understood them to be. It happens to anyone trying ot describe any event happening even in the middle of your home or office(a confrontation, an accident, etc...) Nothing new.

sauceruney said...

sounds a bit like Whitley's been smoking DMT

www.bucksteel.com said...

It's all erroneous what you're telling.

paging system said...

I fully consent with this post.

Buy Generic Viagra said...

I appreciate Whitley Strieber because he's a perfect essays writer, actually I've tried to take some ideas of his works so he's really over me.