Strangely enough, author Peter H. Fogtdal is probably more famous internationally than in his hometown of Portland, Oregon. That’s because most of his literary works — which include more than a dozen novels — are in Danish. One of these, “Floedeskumsfronten,” has won a major French literary award, le Prix Littéraire des Ambassadeurs de la Francophonie, as well as been named one of the three best novels of the year by the newspaper with the largest circulation in Denmark, Jyllands-Posten.
Only two of Fogtdal’s novels are available in English. The first, “The Tsar’s Dwarf” from Hawthorne Books, is a translation from Danish. When this offbeat historical novel came out in 2008, it was a bestseller in Denmark and Ukraine. It came out in France and Portugal as well. It also received positive reviews in the Seattle Times and literary journals like L.A. Review, The Believer Magazine, and Rain Taxi.
“‘The Tsar’s Dwarf’ was actually on the news table in Borders on Union Square in New York for months, which gave me one of the happiest out-of-body experiences I’ve ever had,” Fogtdal remembers.
His most recent release, “The Mango Dancer,” is the first novel he initially wrote in English.
Inspired by his time in Indian ashrams
“The Mango Dancer” is a work of fiction about a former CEO who travels to India to become a guru’s devotee, only to discover potholes on the path to enlightenment. Fogtdal’s experiences in Indian ashrams inspired key elements of the story.
“I followed a guru in Southern India and went to two of his ashrams about eight times,” Fogtdal says. “He had about 60 million followers in the early ‘90s, most of them in India and Europe.”
According to Fogtdal, he was convinced of his guru’s divinity when he first entered the ashram.
“He taught that all faiths are one, and since I’ve always been suspicious of religions and sects that claim they embody The Whole Truth, I loved his teachings,” Fogtdal recalls. “I’ve always been a mystic, and unlike religious followers, mystics need to have their own spiritual experiences. I felt guided by my guru. While I was impressed by his psychic powers and materialization skills, the most important reason I believed in him was that he was capable of entering my dreams and giving me personal advice. He also helped millions of people through his insights and charities.”
Over time, however, Fogtdal began to notice his guru’s flaws.
The dark side of the ashram
“He was a swindler as well,” Fogtdal explains. “Many of his so-called miracles were fake, especially during the end of his life. As often is the case with charismatic gurus, he was also very ‘human’ in the manner of high school boys, if you know what I mean. I didn’t experience bad behavior from the guru myself, but I met two people he had sexually abused. Two TV documentaries about him, one from ITV in England and one from Denmark, convinced me this guru wasn’t for me.”
The final straw was when the guru announced that people should follow only him. “In general, I refuse to have one master,” Fogtdal says. “I don’t believe there’s one true faith, either — that’s a ridiculous and dangerous concept that church leaders through time invented. All spiritual teachings are rivers that run into the same sea.”
Fogtdal also uses the word “cultish” to describe his experience at the ashrams. “I ran into a lot of fanaticism, both from people who worked in the ashram and from the devotees that came from all corners of the world, and I rebelled against that,” he says. “I have a tendency to laugh in inappropriate places, and that gave me some problems in the strict ashram where people took themselves way too seriously.”
In the end, Fogtdal credits his guru with teaching him essential truths. “I learned a lot and never felt duped personally because he taught me a lot about the danger of blind faith and how important genuine contact with the divine is,” he says. “We don’t necessarily need bibles or middlemen, just faith and an open heart.”
The complexity of this relationship with his guru inspired him to write “The Mango Dancer.”
Fogtdal’s Latest: The Mango Dancer
“Nothing about my enigmatic guru was black and white,” Fogtdal explains. “To me, he was a man of God and an imposter during his later years. However, most people can’t handle paradoxes and nuance, so I decided to write a book that was partly based on my own experiences — and I do mean partly. So I’m not the protagonist Nick in my novel, but on an inner level, I am him.”
While “The Mango Dancer” is laugh-out-loud funny, it also contains an important message. “‘The Mango Dancer’ is a farcical but serious warning against blind faith,” Fogtdal explains. “It was extremely important for me to write a book where the reader sees both sides of the spiritual coin.
“I did not want to give birth to another predictable book about a guru who — surprise, surprise — turns out to be a cheat and a sex monster. Why? Because most gurus are genuine in the beginning. Believe it or not, they don’t become gurus to get into their followers’ pants. But when they attain power, something slowly happens — an inner erosion occurs just like it does for many CEOs, artists, and politicians who have the great misfortune of being admired by millions.”
Fogtdal’s writing has been entwined with the United States since his young adulthood.
How Fogtdal came to the U.S.
“In my early twenties, I lived in the U.S. for four years, and I actually have a playwriting degree from Cal State Fullerton,” Fogtdal says. “After my college years, I went back to Denmark and sold a four-episode sitcom to DR, Danish National TV. It was fairly awful but was seen by a million people, so that public humiliation kickstarted my career.”
Fogtdal returned to the U.S. in 2004 for a book tour at universities that teach Danish literature. “My last stop was Portland, and the second I stepped off the tram, I remember thinking, ‘I could live here.’ Two days after my talk, I was invited to come back and teach a course during the summer quarter. Then I taught Advanced Fiction Writing at Portland State University for a couple of years, even though I wasn’t an academic. Actually, I had no idea what I was doing, but I’m a seasoned public speaker, so I thought teaching was fun and easy. I’ve now been part of the Portland furniture for two decades.”
In sum, he appears to have become a U.S. resident largely by accident. “I didn’t really choose Portland,” he says. “Portland chose me. I’m sure this sounds insane and preposterous to some people, but I happen to be slightly insane and preposterous.”
Darkness is a teacher
Currently, Fogtdal is hard at work on an ancestral novel about his grandfather’s Sephardic Jewish family, which originated from Morocco, a country he loves. However, he is not writing it in English.
This is not because he dislikes the language. “I love your kinky language,” he says. “It’s richer than Danish, and your swear words are awesome!” Instead, he chose to write in Danish again to reconnect with his established audience overseas.
No matter where they are located, readers who are interested in a spiritual perspective that resists easy dualities will discover a sharp mind and keen wit in Fogtdal’s novels.
“I want to be uplifting without being a bland New Ager,” he explains. “Sometimes spiritual people forget that the only way we learn about life is through darkness. You can’t pray your way to Heaven. You have to swim through the sewer first.”
