The Inner Atlas – A New Book by Tom Lysaght

Playwright and historical novelist of Persian Passion (inspired by The Dawn-Breakers), Tom Lysaght, has written a new book of personal essays and remembrances called The Inner Atlas. This compilation chronicles his trilogy of the soul (becoming a Baha’i, pilgrimage, pioneering) as well as reflections on ancestors, sex and spirituality, divine governance, Shakespeare, and theatre. It spans Tom’s Baha’i life in South Africa, India, Australia, Israel and Peru.

Tom graciously agreed to tell us about his latest book. Here’s our conversation:

Could you please tell us why you call your new book The Inner Atlas?

In gathering these 28 prose pieces, which I wrote over a 40 year period, I realized how vividly their contents reveal the compelling allurements of my life. The first section, under the heading of “Memories”, maps out the journey of these preoccupations—since my 22nd year when I became a Baha’i—on five continents, hence, the word “atlas” in the title. However, the headings of the subsequent sections reveal where my head and heart have been over these same decades, while sitting still at a desk.

What inspired you to write this book?

I saw how the compilation, written in such a personal voice, reads like a memoir. All my favorite Baha’i books are memoirs (I’m speaking about secondary sources: Portals to Freedom, The Delight of Hearts, The Diary of Juliet Thompson, Memories of Nine Years in Akka, etc.) There’s an authenticity and intimacy to a memoir that attracts readers. Specificity resonates with universalities.

How is a memoir different from an autobiography?

An autobiography usually recounts the external events of a lifetime and, if certain intimate details are revealed, the author often professes whom s/he presumes his or her self to be. In contrast, a memoir focuses on a specific aspect of a life, in a narrow time frame, and confesses an overriding characterisitc of that life in a truth-telling manner. Since, “the professions of most men,” according to Baha’u’llah, “differ from their conduct,”¹ the confessional memoir is more trustworthy. Moreover, as modeled 1,500 years ago by Augustine’s Confessions (and in modern times by Ram Dass’s best seller Be Here Now), the memoir chronicles an awakening by the writer to the recognition of his/her core identity as spiritual, rather than as material, biological, sexual, or professional—as identity politics mistakenly maintains.

Who is the target audience for your book?

The Universal House of Justice has urged Baha’is to see the world as “a community of interest” rather than as Baha’is and non-Baha’is. We don’t hide our Baha’i identity, but we also don’t view it as a line of demarcation. In our daily lives, if we present our authentic selves, we will attract receptive souls (or not). I’m attempting that same approach as an author. A good 50% of these memories and essays directly mention the Faith. However, if I’ve succeeded in writing authentically and personally, the writing will touch universal chords (or not). If I’m accused of being a Baha’i, so be it. I just hope there’s enough evidence to convict me.

What was something that surprised you in the process of putting the book together?

How vulnerable it made me feel. I don’t usually talk about myself, and here I am revealing my personal story. The fact is I can’t imagine Abdu’l-Baha presenting a collection of personal essays any more than I could picture Him taking a selfie. However, we who are “the generation of the half-light,”² sometimes struggle to discern the difference between offering oneself and presenting oneself. Good writers, however, know when they’re showing off. The best ones don’t. Readers will be my judge.

What do you hope readers will take-away with them after they’ve finished your book?

That each of us has to learn to tell our story–authentically and humbly. That vulnerable act of self-sacrifice might be how we live up to our legacy as spiritual descendants of the Dawn-Breakers. By telling the story of how we recognized our core identity is spiritual, and how we have struggled–and been confirmed–in inhabiting that core identity through Baha’i practice. Confessing how we came to that recognition, rather than professing the Baha’i principles. After all, the Baha’i Faith is really the Baha’i experience. Baha’is don’t believe; Baha’is recognize. Recognition, via the scientific method of independent investigation, is a major theme of Baha’u’llah’s Book of Certitude. You can’t be born a Baha’i. Faith is not hereditary; it requires a quest.

Then again, if some of us are too shy to tell our personal story, we can all learn to tell the inspiring stories from Baha’i history. The Universal House of Justice repeatedly urges us to utilize the arts. “Art can better awaken… noble sentiments than cold rationalizing,” Shoghi Effendi reminds us, “especially among the mass of the people.”³ Well, storytelling is an art we all can learn to do. If we put our mind and heart to it. It takes courage; however, courage is one of the four qualities Baha’ullah said he loved to see in the friends.⁴ The Book of Revelation spells out the stakes involved in not having courage: “I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot…So then, because thou art lukewarm… I will spew thee out of my mouth.”⁵ Yikes! So here’s a web site to help us become storytellers. 

Thank you, Tom, for taking the time to share this with us!

You can purchase The Inner Atlas from Amazon or by contacting Baha’i Booksource International in Los Angeles (bbi@labc.org).

1. Baha’u’llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, p. 305 [↩]
2. Shoghi Effendi, World Order of Baha’u’llah, 168 [↩]
3. Shoghi Effendi, letter written on 10 October 1932 to an individual [↩]
4. enthusiasm and courage; a face wreathed in smiles; seeing with their own eyes and not through the eyes of others; carrying a task, once begun, to completion according to Ali-Akbar Furutan (editor), Stories of Baha’u’llah, 1986 [↩]
5. Revelation 3:15-16 [↩]

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Sonjel Vreeland

In her innermost heart, Sonjel is a stay-at-home parent and a bookworm with a maxed out library card but professionally she is a museologist with a background in English Literature. She currently lives on Prince Edward Island, an isle in the shape of a smile on the eastern Canadian coast. Sonjel is a writer who loves to listen to jazz when she's driving at night.