I'm pretty torn about this book. There are numerous wonderful things in its favor, not least of which is Kamenetz's prose, especially in the earlier sections. I'm also persuaded of his central argument - that our dreams speak to us quite plainly about where we're 'stuck' in our lives, and whether you believe that information comes from the unconscious (which is not really unconscious so much as beyond our waking mind's reach) or a divine source, the effect of accepting that dreams have something worth saying is the same. I also enjoy his meditation (a strangely inapt word, actually) on the fact that interpretation of dreams is not worthwhile - that the narrative is not the story, and that events and people are not meant to evoke memories in us. Instead, the real nuts and bolts of the dream are feelings - how we feel (lost, isolated, alone, joyous, compassionate, curious) reflects how we feel, whether we're conscious of it or not, when we wake.
But the further I read into the book, the more conflicted I felt. At first I wondered if my reaction was pure resistance - I have read a lot of helpful books in my life, and listened to helpful lectures and conversations and interviews and songs, that have nevertheless put me on edge right in the moment. But i realized instead that - while I may still have some resistance going on - my reaction sprang from the fact that Kamenetz is proseletyzing. He believes he has found the sure and certain path to enlightenment, even salvation of a kind, and is set on convincing the rest of the world of that fact.
It's an especially jarring thing to realize about the book considering Kamenetz's earlier book, The Lotus and the Jew, is focused on the fact that there are multiple paths to experiencing serenity (for want of a better word) whether that serenity is divine-focused or not. There's a tremendous generosity to the world of Lotus - if there is god, it seems, then that god knows full well that human creatures will need about a hundred different paths to experiencing something of divinity, because we are products of so many cultures, and times, and places. That no longer exists in Last Night's Dream - even Kamenetz's words toward the end of the book about many religions recognizing the divine as both male and female feels insubstantial when compared to his conviction that dreams are the only real way to unearth truth (big or little T).
Perhaps what I find most lacking about Kamenetz's new vision of the world is compassion. The author has tremendous compassion for the world and for others, a compassion he nurtures through his work with dreams, but what's lost is the idea of compassion for the self - of a lack of blame, and a lack of being intrinsically bad, or wrong. Where the Buddhism of Lotus cultivates the idea of loving kindness - that when we make a mistake we should simply acknowledge it, forgive ourselves, correct the behavior, and carry on without beating up on ourselves or marking ourselves as intrinsically evil - Kamenetz's dream approach carries old, old ideas about wrong and right with it. There is opposition to face down, and evil to vanquish, and if we're jerks, well, we're jerks, end of story, fundamentally flawed, even evil, and that makes us Less Than. That's not a way of life I'm looking to embrace.