by Andy Roberts
As his mescaline experience deepened, everything in his field of vision shone with an inner light. Huxley’s perception of time altered to the point where he was completely indifferent to it. When Osmond enquired what his views on time were he replied: “There seems to be plenty of it.” Indeed, he spent “several centuries” examining furniture in the room, furniture which had lost all utilitarian function; now Huxley was seeing it as “... the sacramental vision of reality ... Infinite in its significance.”8
Throughout the trip, Huxley repeatedly uttered variations on “This is how one ought to see, how things really are”. Nevertheless, even at the height of the altered state, the philosopher questioned what life would be like if everyone viewed the world with mescaline vision all the time. People, he believed, would just spend their time just looking, just being. Valuable as the psychedelic experience was, Huxley wondered: “How was this cleansed perception to be reconciled with a proper concern for human relations, with the necessary chores and duties, to say nothing of charity and practical compassion?” This was the fundamental problem at the root of the psychedelic lifestyle. Going to work or doing the household chores after a psychedelic experience might seem tame by comparison.
Huxley wrote about his mescaline experience in The Doors of Perception, published in 1954. He took the title from William Blake’s belief that “if the doors of perception were cleansed, everything will appear to man as it is, infinite”. The book became a best seller and one of the crucial texts in the counter culture’s attempts to understand the psychedelic experience. The title, from which the rock band the Doors took their name, has been used countless times in books and articles about LSD and related drugs and is a now recognised phrase cognate with mind altering substances.
Despite his enthusiasm for the drug’s effects, Huxley did not immediately see psychedelics as being a route to spiritual enlightenment, “I am not so foolish as to equate what happens under the influence of mescaline or of any other drug, prepared or in the future preparable, with the realisation of the end and ultimate purpose of human life: Enlightenment, the Beatific Vision.” Though he had doubts about the nature of the mescaline experience, he was certain that anyone who used the drug in controlled circumstances would return “... wiser but less cocksure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable Mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend.”9
Huxley had desperately wanted Gerald Heard to join him on his initial mescaline experiment, but it was not possible. Heard eventually took the drug with him in November 1953. On this occasion Al Hubbard joined them, Huxley writing to Osmond afterwards, “Your nice Captain tried a new experiment – group mescalinisation ... Since I was in a group the experience had a human content, which the earlier, solitary experience, with its Other Worldly quality and its intensification of aesthetic experience, did not possess ... it was a transcendental experience within this world and with human references.”10 They repeated their mescaline experiments on several occasions, discussing their experiences with friends who were curious about the meaning and purpose of psychedelics. This was the genesis of a movement concerned with the theory and practice of consciousness-altering drugs, and the results of Huxley and Heard’s experiments had unknowingly triggered the coming revolution in consciousness.
On 2 September 1955 the British Labour MP, Christopher Mayhew agreed to be filmed taking mescaline for a BBC TV Panorama special. This extraordinary state of affairs came about because Mayhew had been contacted by Humphrey Osmond, an old friend, who was looking for ways to spread news of the amazing effects of mescaline. “I took the drug because I am an old school friend of Dr. Humphrey Osmond. ... He said he was coming over to England and could I recommend him for a BBC Third Programme broadcast to describe his research work. I said, ‘Don’t go on sound radio. No one listens to that. Explain about hallucinogens on television and give me this stuff in front of a film camera.’”
As Mayhew was a well-known politician and TV broadcaster it was thought the most effective way to structure the programme was to have Mayhew take 400 mg of mescaline while being supervised by Osmond. The film was made at Mayhew’s home in Surrey. The full programme was never shown, although extracts have appeared on various documentaries dealing with psychedelia. Transcripts of the film reveal Mayhew, the epitome of the English gentleman, slowly loosening his grip on consensus reality as Osmond asks him a series of mundane questions. Mayhew gets the answers correct but seems rather detached from them. As the trip progresses Mayhew continues to respond to Osmond’s questions but is clearly drifting in and out of a reverie.
When Osmond queries Mayhew about his perception of time, asking him if he is experiencing time and space differently, Mayhew replies, “I’m perfectly certain of that! I haven’t the slightest doubt. And I’m saying that with my conscious mind now, as well as my unconscious mind.” Interesting though the experiment was, it’s clear Mayhew thought the questions being asked of him were superficial compared with the actual experience he was undergoing. He was fascinated by time and how its passage was completely different in his altered state. By mid-afternoon Mayhew had reached the point where there was “... no absolute time ... no absolute space ... it is simply what we impose on the outside world ... and, er, the more closely I feel this, the more relaxed I feel ... and, er ... the less I feel inclined to talk ...”11
Mayhew’s televised journey into inner space proved that the psychedelic experience was not amenable to being studied in any objective way. What appeared obvious to the mescaline voyager sounded illogical to the trained observer and vice versa. Osmond, no stranger to Mayhew’s altered state of consciousness, concurred, “Now, I know quite well ... some of the experiences that you’re having but I don’t know how one gets them across in words, and I’ve been trying to puzzle out ways in which we can demonstrate this, and I’m still quite defeated.”
Prior to 1956 there was no catch-all term for the effects of mescaline, LSD and similar drugs. Louis Lewin, the German toxicologist, had coined the word Phantastica to refer to drugs that caused visionary states and hallucinations, but the word was too Victorian in tone and failed to enter popular usage. The term hallucinogen was often used but was a prescriptive term suggesting that hallucinations were the main characteristic of this type of drug, which was not always the case. Huxley, perturbed by the lack of a suitable name, wrote to Osmond, “About a name for these drugs – what a problem.”12 After some thought Huxley came up with phanerothyme, from the Greek, and meaning to make the soul visible. Huxley was so pleased with the word he suggested it to Osmond with the rhyme: “To make this trivial world sublime; Take half a gramme of phanerothyme.”13 Osmond thought the word was clumsy and quickly responded to Huxley with his own term, psychedelic: “To fathom hell, or soar angelic, take a pinch of psychedelic.”14 Psychedelic was also taken from the Greek root words: “psyche” – mind and “delos” – clear or manifest. Psychedelic literally means “manifesting clear mind”. It is also sometimes defined as “mind-expanding” or “mind-manifesting”.
Huxley’s first encounter with LSD was in October 1955 when he took two 200 μg doses separated by an interval of forty minutes. He had read that the drug had helped someone uncover some childhood memories and he hoped it would do the same for him. When the drug took hold memories were soon forgotten as he became imbued with “... the direct, total awareness, from the inside, so to say, of Love as the primary and cosmic fact.”15
Shortly after this experience Huxley wrote to Osmond: “I found the stuff more potent than mescaline,” concluding the effects were a “... transfiguration of the external world, and the understanding, through a realisation involving the whole man, that Love is the One, and that is why Atman is identical with Brahman, and why, in spite of everything, the universe is all right.”16 Huxley’s use of the Hindu terms Atman (individual soul) and Brahman (supreme spir
it of the universe) reflected his interest in Hindu philosophy. As we will see, eastern philosophies, specifically variants of Hinduism and Buddhism, became very attractive to many people who had taken LSD.
Huxley’s identification with love as a primary fact of the universe has echoed through the LSD subculture ever since, being recognised as a characteristic of the well prepared LSD trip and frequently alluded to by commentators on the scene. Perhaps the most public statement of this principle came in the Beatles’ classic 1967 LSD song “All You Need Is Love”. Of course universal love is a tenet of many religions, but often as an abstract concept. For Huxley, under the influence of LSD, it had been a living reality.
Huxley was keen to repeat the LSD experience and did so two months later with Gerald Heard and Al Hubbard. They listened to music, something millions of recreational LSD users have since found to be a source of amazement. Huxley found Bach’s B-minor suite to be “a revelation”. He was so impressed he later wrote to Osmond: “Meanwhile, let me advise you, if you ever use mescaline or LSD in therapy, to try the effect of the B-minor suite. More than anything, I believe, it will serve to lead the patient’s mind (wordlessly, without any suggestion or covert bullying by doctor or parson) to the central, primordial Fact, the understanding of which is perfect health during the time of the experience, and the memory of the understanding of which may serve as an antidote to mental sickness in the future.”17
Heard became another instant convert to LSD and wrote and lectured widely on the subject in America. In August 1956 he was instrumental in guiding Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, on an LSD trip. Wilson said the session allowed him to re-experience the spontaneous spiritual experience which had enabled him to overcome his own alcoholism. Wilson’s experience would validate later work carried out in Canada and elsewhere in treating the root causes of alcoholism with LSD.18
On a visit to London in 1961 Huxley gave an interview to the BBC’s John Chandos in which he revealed he had taken mescaline twice and LSD five times. The nation heard that he had found his LSD experiences to be positive, giving him a “gratuitous grace”, a term borrowed from Catholic theology meaning a gift conferred on particular persons for the salvation of others. Huxley told the nation that his experiments with psychedelic drugs had given him the experience of knowing “the Universe is All Right. Capital A, Capital R.”19
Toward the end of his life, Huxley encoded his philosophies, including his beliefs about psychedelic drugs, in his final book, Island. The novel describes a fictional utopia, the island of Pala, where people live in harmony with nature and each other. The islanders’ central philosophy is Buddhist in nature, the first principle of their core beliefs being: “Nobody needs to go anywhere else. We are all, if we only knew it, already there”. The Palanese philosophy teaches that everything should be done with “... the minimum of strain and maximum of awareness.” Paying attention to every act is fundamental to the islanders’ day-to-day existence and through this total awareness the Palanese turned the act of living into a yogic art.20
Central to the story is the Palanese use of Moksha, a psychedelic drug given to children as a rite of passage and used to guide the dying as they pass from life. Clearly based on Huxley’s own drug experiences and his vision of the perfect society, Island was an immediate success, becoming a counter culture classic, a status which it enjoys to the present day.
Huxley’s writings, in particular The Doors of Perception and Island, had a major influence on the developing LSD philosophy in Britain. The psychedelic drug states described by Huxley were fiercely sought by the first wave of LSD users and the model community described in Island became the vision and goal of personal and communal living. After his first LSD trip in early 1966 underground DJ Jeff Dexter, like many of his contemporaries, saw himself as being on a spiritual journey, drawing inspiration from the available psychedelic literature. “This was the beauty of people that we read, like Huxley – ‘here and now boys, here and now.’” This is the phrase intoned by the parrot in Huxley’s Island and the message which runs throughout the book. For Dexter, Huxley’s writing informed his psychedelic experiences, giving him the sure and certain knowledge that “the fact is you’re on a journey but you’re already there.”21
On Friday 22 November 1963, Huxley’s cancer, diagnosed in 1960, worsened and he believed he was close to death. In a bold act of self determination, he asked his wife Laura for paper and wrote: “Try LSD 100 mmg intramuscular”. The doctor in attendance was unhappy about giving LSD to a dying man but Laura overruled his concerns, administering the injection herself. Later she gave Huxley another 100 μg and sat with him, repeating the words, spoken by Maria in Island as Lakshmi lies dying, about moving toward the light. Huxley acknowledged Laura’s presence by squeezing her hand and he died peacefully under the influence of LSD.22
Huxley’s ideas about the use of LSD and other psychedelics were hugely influential on the burgeoning counter culture. It was Timothy Leary, though, who made the most significant contribution to how LSD was perceived by the British public and who was responsible for the worldwide explosion in the drug’s use.
However, were it not for a mysterious Englishman, it is possible that Leary might not have taken LSD until much later in the Sixties, or taken it in a much weaker form. American histories of LSD often omit or minimise the role of Leary’s British mentor. This is partly out of ignorance and partly because recreational LSD use is often thought to have its origins solely with Americans. Just as the first LSD philosophers were British émigrés to America, the person responsible for turning America on was also British.
Very little is known about Michael Hollingshead, yet he is a crucial figure in the history of LSD. Had he not come into Leary’s orbit the course of psychedelic history would have taken a completely different trajectory. Hollingshead is the archetypal trickster figure, eclipsing Leary for spontaneity and intellect but without Leary’s public flair or need for massive public approbation. Indeed, Leary referred to him as a “divine rascal”. Others have been much less complimentary.
Known to the psychedelic community as Michael Hollingshead, his birth certificate reveals his real name is Michael John Shinkfield. He was born on 30 September 1931 in Darlington in the north-east of England, the son of a colliery clerk with the National Coal Board. He had a tumultuous relationship with his father and in his mid-teens was sent to a school in London that dealt with “bright but troubled boys”. Hollingshead later claimed he had been under psychoanalysis in London with Anna Freud, but this could have been one of the many yarns he spun to reinvent his past and to impress the gullible.
After serving his National Service in the Royal Air Force, Hollingshead worked in London for Thomas Cook, the travel agents. During this time, he met and shared a flat with Dr. John Beresford, a paediatrician, who was also to prove crucial in the story of LSD’s early years. At some point in the late Fifties Shinkfield changed his name to Hollingshead. No one is certain why he did this. Hollingshead himself has said it was to sound more “English” when he was in America. Later he said it was a play on words of hole in his head, a reference to the psychedelic effects claimed from trepanation.23
His daughter Vanessa (now one of America’s leading comediennes) also had a difficult relationship with her father, having witnessed both sides of his personality. It is these dichotomies in his psychological make up that both attracted and repelled those who he came into contact with. As Vanessa Hollingshead says, “Stripped bare of all his quirks and darkness, he just wanted to be loved, accepted ...” But he could be as ruthless as he was charming, once telling Vanessa “... you must learn to manipulate people, that’s the name of the game”.24
It was this character who travelled to New York in the late Fifties to take up a post with the British-American Institute for Cultural Exchange, an organization promoting friendship between the two nations. Those who believe there is some dark conspiracy at the heart of LSD culture have claimed that the Exchange was a
cover for a nebulous intelligence operation. It appears in LSD history that anything which cannot be immediately explained, or has some connection to the intelligence services, must form part of a conspiracy. Other than the anecdotal, join-the-dots attempt to link names with organizations there is no available evidence to suggest Hollingshead was an asset of the British intelligence services.
In New York, Hollingshead once again moved in with his friend Dr. John Beresford. By now the doctor was mingling with a small group of consciousness explorers centred on a shop in Greenwich Village that sold a variety of legal, organic, psychedelic substances. Hollingshead was aware of Huxley’s experiments with mescaline and phoned him to enquire how to obtain some of the drug for his circle of friends. During the conversation Huxley mentioned LSD but cautioned, “It is much more potent than mescaline, though Gerald [Heard] and I have used it with some astonishing results really.”25
LSD sounded promising, so in late 1960 Hollingshead asked Beresford to order a gram of LSD direct from Sandoz in Switzerland. Beresford did so, using his hospital’s letterheaded notepaper, claiming he needed the drug as a control for a series of bone marrow experiments. Beresford soon received a package containing a bill for $285 and a gram of pure LSD, enough for at least 5000 powerful doses.
Lot Number H-00047 arrived contained in a small, dark jar. The magic gram was in powder form and Hollingshead was now faced with the problem of how to divide it into equal doses. By mixing the powder with distilled water and confectioner’s sugar he made a glutinous paste divided and sub divided until he had exactly 5000 × 200 μg doses which he transferred to a 16 ounce mayonnaise jar. During the mixing process Hollingshead had licked his fingers several times, taking in the equivalent of at least five substantial doses. As the drug hit he moved to the rooftop and spent the next fifteen hours totally absorbed by its effects, experiencing the death of his body and stepping into, “... some other strange land of unlikeliness, which can only be grasped in terms of astonishment and mystery, as an etat de l’absurde, ecstatic nirvana.”26
