Figures in front of a mirror

How Carlos Castaneda’s story about a dancing whore reveals the desperation of the human experience.

Photo by Carrie Borden on Unsplash

What is “figures in front of a mirror” you ask? It sounds intriguing, doesn’t it? If you’ve read Carlo Castaneda’s “The Active Side of Infinity”, you might be familiar with this expression.

In his book, Castaneda tells his sorcerer mentor don Juan about an incident that happened when he was an art student in Italy. A pompous Scottish classmate named Eddie was marveling over something called “figures in a mirror” which had been shown to him by an aging prostitute named Madame Ludmilla.

Castaneda relays how Eddie “had been in a bordello, where he had found an unbelievable woman who did an incredible thing she called “figures in front of a mirror”. Eddie assured Castaneda repeatedly that Castaneda “owed it to [himself] to experience this unbelievable event personally.” Castaneda’s narration of his tale was like a slow and scintillating build-up, which created an ever-increasing sense of expectation within me. As I entered the bordello that Castaneda described and met the peculiar Madame Ludmilla, I found myself getting exciting, anticipating a riveting show. After inviting him into her antisala, and getting him to sit down, the Madame opened her armoire which had full-length mirrors on the inside of each door. She cranked her Victrola which played…