Living Surrealism

 Xilitla is living surrealism. I introduced the New York Times reporter and my old friend Allen Myerson to Xilitla in 1995 and he wrote an interesting and intelligent article on it and my friend Rudy. You can read it at https://www.nytimes.com/1995/02/19/travel/fantasy-garden-in-mexico-s-jungle.html. Still, it is not in danger of being overwhelmed by Bermuda shorts-clad tourists. Only special folks like you and me go there. Steep meandering streets snake down from the highway to the town. They drop steeply and quickly, reminding one of Taxco, QRO. The town’s architecture follows no code but displays lots of whimsy. The sculptures are concrete with inlaid stones or glass where appropriate. The sculptures depict Edward James’ vivid imagination in surrealistic terms. There are stairways to heaven, or at least that don’t go anywhere on earth, houses without walls or ceilings, and remarkable Fleur de Lis. The sculptures were originally painted and the paint is more often than not gone to join its creator in the ether.

Edward James was an Englishman, perhaps a love-child of English nobility. He was incredibly wealthy and was able to indulge his interests, which included arts and artists. He bankrolled various surrealists (getting valuable paintings at discount prices) and was an artist himself. The sculpture garden at Xilitla was his life’s work. Here, he created a fantasy world with meaning, depending on how you view it. Now, for the words of warning. This forest is steamy, but not in a sensual sense. Locals call it a jungle, but that is hyperbole. The rain forest is more like it. I lived in the Amazon jungle and the humidity, at least, is comparable. Try to see Xilitla in the morning. Wear very sturdy shoes that won’t slip on the occasional parts of the paths that are moss-covered, or just wet. Take water. Take your time. There are plenty of places to stop and meditate on the meaning of Life, or at least the meaning that Edward James gave it. Or places to just catch your breath. At the end of the trail are a small waterfall and a pool. Yes, you can bathe in the pool. But wear your swimsuit or shorts. The impropriety is dealt with harshly.
There are decent guides at the entrance. Interview them to make sure their English is understandable. There are also stoned hippies selling jewelry and things outside the gates. Talking to them is like talking to hostile space aliens. When I was a hippie, I was happy and friendly. Not these dudes and dudesses. I don’t know what this “younger” generation is coming to. OMG, I am my Father!