The Search for Shangri-La: Lost Horizon, by James Hilton
by Marilyn Green Faulkner

I sent my Soul through the Invisible,
Some letter of that After-life to spell:
And by and by my soul return’d to me,
And answer’d “I myself am Heav’n and Hell.”
— Edward Fitzgerald

What is Paradise? Throughout history man has sought to create, or find, or at least imagine a paradise on earth, a place where there is peace, harmony, and a surcease from the striving and pain that plague our lives. On the eve of World War II, James Hilton imagined such a place in his best-selling novel, Lost Horizon. Its timing (coincident with the rise of Nazi power in Germany) touched a nerve in society, and Hilton’s oasis in the Himalayan Mountains, known as Shangri-La, became part of our lexicon, synonymous with Utopia itself. On the strength of its cultural significance alone the novel is worth a second look, though on close examination it proves to be somewhat problematic.

Lost Horizon tells the story of four persons (three English and one American) who, while attempting to escape a civil war in an Eastern European nation, are kidnapped and transported to the plateaus of Tibet, where their plane crashes, killing the pilot. They are “found” by a mysterious Chinese stranger, who leads them to shelter in a monastery hidden in “the valley of the blue moon.” This is Shangri-La. Here, our protagonist, Hugh Conway, will discover his destiny, and all of the travelers will find out whether or not this version of paradise corresponds with their personal ideals.

Though Lost Horizon cannot be classed with the great books of literature, it deals with great themes: Can there be peace on earth, is a Utopian ideal attainable and, if so, how can it be realized? Hilton’s Utopia is based on the principle of moderation. The Chinese guide, Mr. Chang, explains to Conway: “We rule with moderate strictness, and in return we are satisfied with moderate obedience. And I think I can claim that our people are moderately sober, moderately chaste, and moderately honest.” (74-5) Well, though politically correct, this kind of society is only moderately appealing to me. As I read I searched in vain for the passion of Milton’s Paradise Lost, the fury of Orwell’s Animal Farm, or even the whimsical joy of The Wizard of Oz. The book is strangely void of emotion of any kind. It is as if, exhausted from the terrors of war, Hilton is willing to trade passion for peace. Conroy, himself war-weary and now skeptical of his youthful idealism, welcomes the respite from both love and hate. When the High Lama describes him as curiously “passionless” for one so young, he responds:

“As good a word as most, no doubt. I don’t know whether you classify the people who come here, but if so, you can label me ‘1914-18.’ That makes me, I should think, a unique specimen in your museum of antiquities.I used up most of my passions and energies during the years I’ve mentioned, and though I don’t talk much about it, the chief thing I’ve asked from the world since then is to leave me alone. I find in this place a certain charm and quietness that appeals to me, and no doubt, as you remark, I shall get used to things.” (156)

That’s about as dramatic as it gets in Lost Horizon, which surprised me on this rereading with its tentative approach to a subject that has fired the imaginations of some of our greatest minds. The uncertain ending of the novel fits well with the ambivalence that prevails throughout the narrative. Ambivalence, to my way of thinking, does not dovetail with the Utopian ideal, for without passionate commitment such great schemes are doomed to failure. From Joseph Smith’s inspired vision of a United Order to the efforts of each fledgling democracy to ensure the inalienable rights of the individual, the search for Utopia is the drive to create a society where justice prevails, right conquers might, and dreams can be realized. Without the vision of Utopia we might cease to push upward, and Hilton’s secluded world of Shangri-La, while flawed and somewhat tepid, offers at least a part of that vision. Oscar Wilde said:

“A map of the world which does not include Utopia is not even worth glancing at, for it leaves out the one country at which Humanity is always landing. And when Humanity lands there, it looks out, and seeing a better country, sets sail. (The Great Thoughts, George Seldes, ed. 451)

I’ll be interested to hear what you make of Lost Horizon. Do you agree with Hilton’s view of a Paradise on Earth? What do you think of the ending? Send your thoughts to me at [email protected] or log on to our website at www.thebestbooksclub.com. Our selection for October may be unfamiliar to you, but you’re in for a fascinating read: Kristen Lavransdatter, by Sigrid Undset. It is a trilogy of novels; try the first and see what you think.