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Ex-God. Jiddu Krishnamurti, doe-eyed Brahmin-born Hindu, was pounced upon in Adyar, Madras 27 years ago by Mrs. Annie Besant and Rev. Charles Lead-beater, famed Theosophists. They declared that the 12-year-old moppet was "the Vehicle of the new World Teacher, the Lord Maitreya," whose last incarnation on earth was Jesus Christ. Calmly accepting this announcement, Krishnamurti grew up under their tutelage, became head of their Order of the Star in the East. In 1929, however, he disappointed his disciples by renouncing the Godship they had imposed upon him. Still a practicing Theosophist seer who affects soft, open-collared shirts and flannel slacks, Krishnamurti, now nearing 40, has not lost his persuasive ways. Author Landau says he felt such personal pleasure at meeting Krishnamurti that he permanently lost all desire to smoke.
Last week many a Californian journeyed to the Theosophical Society's estate near Ojai where Krishnamurti lives in a hut. Lately returned from a lecture tour of Mexico and South America, the abdicated Messiah delivered the Society's triennial series of talks, will soon depart for more talks in Holland where the Society owns an estate at Ommen.
Harmonious Developer. One of the most unaccountable, unpredictable of modern mystics is George Ivanovitch Gurdjieff, a Levantine with a huge, shaved head, piercing eyes, walrus mustache and bull-muscled frame. He is the strange head of an odd cult which such people as the late Novelist Katharine Mansfield, the late Editor Alfred Richard Orage of the New English Weekly have at one time or another espoused. At Fontainebleau, where Miss Mansfield died in 1924, Gurdjieff ran the Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man. He taught his followers intricate dances for which he composed 5,000 pieces of music. He enjoyed mirth, appeared to enjoy heroic rages, advocated intense awareness of every muscular function. Six years ago Gurdjieff arrived in Manhattan, was often to be seen in Childs' restaurants drinking coffee and working over a monumental book, Tales Told by Beelzebub to His Grandson (TIME, March 24, 1930).
After interviews in which he asked Gurdjieff searching questions. Rom Landau was told by a Gurd jieffite: ''You almost force him to answer yes or no. He is not used to that, and he does not care for such a form of conversation. . . ."
Author Landau believes Gurdjieff was once a Russian agent in Tibet, that there he learned ancient esoteric lore, that he must now be over 70 although he looks no more than 50.
* Doubleday, Doran ($2).
Knopf ($3.50).
* Not connected with Sister Aimee Semple McPherson's Four Square Gospel Church in Los Angeles.
