Svetislav Basara - The Cyclist Conspiracy

Istanbul

10 October 1930

Dear Mom,

I’m writing to you from Constantinople, the capital of Byzantium. You have certainly heard of Hagia Sophia, the former basilica, later a mosque and now a museum. I go there quite often. Upon capturing Constantinople, the Turks executed a terrible slaughter in the house of God, destroying the frescos, breaking the crystal vessels, but they could not reach the painting of Christ the Almighty in the main dome and his gentle, serious face still looks down from the vault, just as he watches the entire fallen world from eternity and into eternity; among others, he watches you and Mr. Schleiermacher who came here, ostensibly on business, to accidentally find me. Mr. Schleiermacher is a clever gentleman, just as you are also a clever lady. I have no complaints about you. Dr. Freud would have more to complain about in connection to the unconscious, upon which he constantly insists. Your gesture is completely transparent to everyone except for the two of you; I’m not saying that you made a deal for Schleiermacher to find me so that you could fall into my arms — such a thing would never cross your minds, even in your dreams. No, with the words of Dr. Freud: Schleiermacher came here to find me driven by the unconscious, and that should not surprise you because unconsciously he knows where I am. Neither you nor your Romeo can even imagine that you are doing anything improper; on the contrary, your thoughts are ultimately honorable, but you (the entire West) do the iniquities suppressed in the depth of your souls, from where very little manages to surface.

Now I will explain to you what those iniquities consist of, the iniquity of solipsism that forced you to poison my father and then to convince yourself and everyone else that he died of a stroke. I made this decision yesterday, in the Hagia Sophia, looking at the figure of Jesus. Suddenly it occurred to me — Lord, what a circus that will be when we stand before the true face of God, when all our hidden thoughts are revealed, when Mr. Schleiermacher begins to justify himself: “But what was wrong with me going to Constantinople on business?”

What the theologians used to interpret as a multitude of sins, is in fact just one sin — the sin of self-deception. As time passes, it grows and a man becomes a slave to his own lies to such an extent, they take such control over him, that he denies everything before God, who is willing to forgive all, completely obvious things, and that is ridiculous because we exist on God like moss.

In the Gospel according to Thomas there is a line that I will quote from memory: “Whatever you let out of yourself, that will save you; whatever you keep in yourself, that will destroy you.” I want to tell you that those things you have not let out, a rather large pile of garbage, has decided to destroy you, all of those secrets of yours and all that junk from the antique store of your memories.

I am not judging you in any way. Moreover, since you are my mother, that is, if I were in your place that suits me very well, it is my duty to instruct you, in just a few words, about how to behave when death comes. You see, life can be compared to riding a velocipede: you ride automatically, thinking about what will happen at your destination, enjoying the singing of the birds, and then you suddenly lose your balance, everything stops and at the decisive moment (overcome with fear), you see the surface of the earth hurtling toward your face…

(Ernest)

FROM FREUD TO MRS. MEIER

Vienna

7 October 1930

Gracious Mrs. Meier,

I received your letter but the sheer number of my duties prevented me from answering you immediately, although I wanted to.

What is most important — Ernest is alive. Perhaps his flight was the fruit of his desire for independence, and I am convinced that I am not wrong when I say that this could be quite positive for his further development.

In terms of the company Ernest is keeping, I think that your friend’s fears are unfounded, since I personally know Mr. Joseph Kowalsky, one of the most talented of the avant-garde poets in German, who was — it is true — a communist in his youth, not an anarchist, but in recent years he has become completely apolitical.

The style of Ernest’s letter — I realize that it is confused and mystical — is probably the consequence of his consorting with poets. I do not have insight into the entirety of his letter, so I cannot say much more, but Constantinople is a city where civilizations, languages, races, dreams and reality all intertwine, and it has certainly left a deep impression on Ernest’s psyche, which is sensitive in the first place.

Your fear related to the confusion about how Ernest knows of the nature of your relationship with Mr. Schleiermacher, is not such a difficult problem to resolve. Mothers and sons, in your case even more so, are connected by intuition; surely you remember in Ernest’s childhood when he became sick and you “felt” something, even though you were not present.

I am absolutely convinced that, in this case, such intuitive knowledge is in question, or better said the suspicion that Ernest childishly relates to the desire for you to die. I talked with him about that several times.

I am convinced that you will gather the strength to overcome the crisis into which you have fallen, and assure you of my profoundest respect.

Sigmund Freud

FROM FREUD TO FERENCZI

Vienna

30 October 1930

My Dear Dr. Ferenczi,

I would like to briefly present you a case which fits perfectly into the sphere of your interests, and a longer letter, an answer to your previous one, will soon follow.

Two years ago, I treated a young man (I am writing a short study about that) who ran away from home in an undetermined direction after our therapy sessions came to an end. Recently, his mother informed me that the young man has been seen in Turkey. A business acquaintance of her father encountered Ernest in Constantinople and spent a while talking to him. Upon arriving in Zürich, the acquaintance reported this news to the mother, and on that occasion renewed a relationship that had been broken off some twenty years before.

Now comes the most intriguing part: soon afterwards, Mrs. Meier received a letter from her son in which he accused her of having relations with the abovementioned gentleman and in which he foretold her death in the near future.

Two days ago, I incidentally heard that Mrs. Meier had died from a bursting aneurism.

Certainly a cause for mourning, but also a useful example for your study of intuition and synchronicity.

Sincerely yours,

S. Freud

FROM FERENCZI TO FREUD

(letter partially damaged)

Dear Herr Doctor Freud,

I received your kind report on a case which, quite by accident, is not completely new to me. Straightaway I must tell you that I am on the trail of a discovery that could radically change our study of the psyche. Namely, J. Kowalsky (whom you also know), with whom I exchange occasional correspondence, wrote me the other day that, in Istanbul… (remainder of the letter destroyed by water damage)

I

There are very few facts about the mystical order — the Little Brothers of the Evangelical Bicyclists of the Rose Cross. Only one tangible document exists — the Basel Parchment — where one can find, besides the text about which more will be said, a coat of arms: an old-fashioned velocipede, having a handle-bar stem topped with a cross, carrying the motto GENS VNA SVMVS, but the whole thing could easily be a forgery. Some writers, like Herbert Meier, completely reject the idea of the existence of such an order. On the other hand, no less reliable researchers, among whom the authority of Carl Gustav Jung stands out, never question the existence of the order. Jung even mentions it, with some reservation, in one place in his work Wandlungen und Symbole der Libido .