Elsa Barker's Letters from a Living Dead Man (E. P. Dutton & Company, 1920) is a collection of letters that the author claims to have received through automatic writing from a person she refers to as "X."

Here, we present the full text of the preface written by the author. Barker describes the beginning of the "X" automatic writing, the process that led to his decision to publish it, and a disclaimer stating that this book is not presented as scientific proof.

Descriptions of paranormal phenomena, automatic writing, and life after death are claims and anecdotes from the original author and do not represent a certification of facts by the translator.

Preface

Last year, one night in Paris, I was strongly compelled to pick up a pencil and write. However, I didn't know what to write about. Giving in to that impulse, my hand seemed to be grasped from the outside, and an astonishing message with personal content appeared. At the end of it, there was a signature "X".

The meaning of the message was clear, but I was confused by the signature.

The next day, I showed what I had written to a friend and asked if they could guess who "X" was referring to.

"Well," she replied. "Don't you know that's what we always call Mr. ----?"

I did not know that.

Now, Mr. ---- was located six thousand miles away from Paris, and we believed that he should have been in the land of the living. However, a few days later, I received a letter from America, informing me that Mr. ---- had passed away in the western United States several days before I received the autographed message with the "X" signature in Paris.

To the best of my knowledge, I was the first person to inform someone in Europe about his death. So, I immediately visited a friend and told her that "X" had passed away. She didn't seem surprised, and she said that even though she hadn't mentioned it before, she had been certain for some time, just days before I showed her the letter from "X."

Of course, I was strongly impressed by this unusual event.

"X" was not a spiritualist. I myself am not, and have never been a spiritualist. And as far as I can remember, the entities that seemed to manifest through me automatically were only two before this time. This occurred in the presence of a medium-like person, but the messages were short, and I did not attach much importance to those phenomena.

When I was a child, there were several times when my hand was placed on a planchette along with someone else's hand, and the planchette wrote trivial things. Several months before the first "X" letter, I put my hand on the planchette with the hand of someone who was not a professional medium. At that time, a prophecy appeared, written as if by a deceased friend, stating that there would be a fire in my house sometime next year. That prophecy came true literally. However, the fire was not caused by my hand, and it did not occur in the room where I lived.

Many years ago, I was persuaded by my friends to attend a professional séance on several occasions, and I have even witnessed what is called materialization phenomena. Also, there are some apparitions that cannot be explained by any other hypothesis, and the only explanation seems to be the appearance of spirits. I have seen these independently.

However, regarding the overall issue of communication between these two worlds, I was unusually indifferent. Spiritualism never moved me at all, and I had not even read the usual standard works on the subject.

Even so, for many years, I experienced "hypnagogic hallucinations" almost every day. They were often surprisingly prophetic in nature. And perhaps the explanations that "X" provided for them are true descriptions.

Shortly after I received a letter from America stating that Mr. ---- had died, I was sitting with a friend who told me who "X" was. She asked me if it would be possible to have him write again, if he could.

I agreed more to please my friend than out of personal interest. And then, a message appeared in my hand that began with the words "I am here, definitely." Just like the first time, it was completely automatic, but there were pauses and gaps between the sentences, and the characters were large and misshapen. Because of the force used at this time, I had pain in my right hand and arm the next day.

In the following weeks, several letters were automatically written with the signature "X." However, instead of being enthusiastic about it, I began to feel a strong sense of unease towards this way of writing. The only reason I continued was because of my friend's argument that if "X" truly wanted to communicate with the world, then I am in a very fortunate position to be able to help him.

"X" was not an ordinary person. He was a well-known lawyer, nearly seventy years old, and also deeply studied philosophy, being the author of books as well. For everyone who knew him, his pure ideals and enthusiasm were inspiring. His house was far from mine, and I only met him at long intervals. As far as my memory serves, we had never discussed the issue of consciousness after death.

As I gradually overcame my strong prejudice against automatic writing, I became interested in the things that "X" claimed to reveal about life beyond the grave. Since I had read almost nothing on the subject and hadn't even read a popular book like "The Letters of Julia," I was free from preconceived notions.

The messages continued to arrive. After a while, the pain in my hands and arms disappeared, and although the way I wrote was still not very legible, it had become less irregular than before.

At one point, letters were written in the presence of a friend. Later, "X" began to appear whenever I was alone. Since I traveled between two cities, he wrote both in Paris and London. Sometimes he appeared several times a week, while other times almost a month would pass without me feeling his presence. I never summoned him, and during the intervals between his appearances, I hardly thought about him at all. Most of the time, my pen and thoughts were occupied with something else entirely.

Before I started writing, there was only one time when I knew the content of a letter. One night, when I picked up a pencil, I knew what "X" was going to write about. However, although I remember that event, I have forgotten which message it was.

While I was writing these letters, I was usually in a semi-conscious state. Therefore, until I reread the messages later, I only vaguely understood what was written there. Several times, I almost lost consciousness completely, and when I put down the pencil, there were times when I didn't know at all what I had written. However, this did not happen frequently.

When I was first proposed to publish these letters with a preface by me, I wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea. As an author of several books, some of which were somewhat well-known, I had a small amount of vanity about my established reputation. I didn't want to be known as an eccentric person, or a "weirdo." Nevertheless, I agreed to write a preface stating that the letters were written automatically in my presence. This was true, but not the whole truth. My friends were satisfied with this. However, over time, I myself became dissatisfied. It seemed less than completely honest.

I discussed this problem with myself. If I published this letter without a personal introduction, it would be taken as fiction, an imaginative work. And the remarkable statements contained within it would lose their power to persuasively argue for the truth of life after death. However, if I were to write an introductory note stating that the letter appeared through so-called automatic writing in my presence, then naturally, questions would arise about whose hand produced it, and I would be forced to equivocate. But if I frankly acknowledge that they came from my own hand, and accurately describe the facts as they are, only two hypotheses remain open. First, that they are genuine communications from a being outside of physical existence. Second, that they are products of my own subconscious mind. However, the latter hypothesis cannot explain the first letter, which was received before I knew that my friend had died, and bears the signature "X." To account for that, one would have to assume that each person's subconscious knows everything. In that case, why would my subconscious initiate a long and arduous deception with me as its target, without any prior suggestion from either my objective mind or anyone else's?

I could not imagine, then or now, that someone would accuse me of deliberately deceiving people and telling fantasies about something so important. This is because my imagination has other legitimate outlets, such as poetry and novels.

Before this issue was finally resolved, about two-thirds of the letters had been written. And if I were to publish these letters, I decided to include a straightforward preface that would explain the exact circumstances under which I received them.

The actual writing process lasted for more than eleven months. Next, editing issues arose. What should be kept and what should be included? I decided to omit nothing except references to "X's" personal affairs, my own personal affairs, and the personal affairs of his friends. I have not added anything. Occasionally, when "X's" writing style was awkward, I restructured sentences or removed repetitions. However, I exercised far less freedom than would be permissible for an editor proofreading a normal manuscript.

Sometimes, "X" is very colloquial, and sometimes it uses legal terminology, and also incorporates American slang. Just like in friendly correspondence where everyone does, it often jumps from one topic to another without any connecting phrases, and then returns to the original subject.

He made several statements about the afterlife that were completely opposite to my usual opinions. I have left those statements as they are written. Many of his philosophical propositions were entirely new to me. It was only a few months later that I understood their depth.

I have no intention of apologizing for publishing these letters. They are, regardless of their origin, probably interesting documents. And I feel the same fear now, when releasing them to the world, as I did when "X" extended his hand to me and asked me to write those letters.

If someone were to ask me what I think about whether these letters are genuine communications from a world beyond our own, I would say that I believe they are. In personal matters and in parts that have been deleted, there were often references to past events and possessions that I was not aware of. And those references have been confirmed as facts. This has no impact on the theory of telepathy, which is favored by psychologists. However, if these letters were transmitted to me through telepathy, who would have sent them? It was not my friend, who witnessed many of the writings. For her too, the content was just as surprising as it was for me.

However, I would like to state that this book does not make scientific claims. This is because science requires testing and proof. Except for the first letter with the signature "X," which indicates that Mr. ---- has died, and except for the first letter received without my knowledge regarding who "X" is, this book was not written under what psychologists would consider "experimental conditions." As evidence of the survival of the soul after physical death, whether its contents are true or not must be accepted or rejected by each individual according to their temperament, experience, and inner conviction.

Without "X," and without another entity to whom I could place a similar degree of trust on the unseen side of nature, I would not be able to create such a document again. I still have a strong and deep prejudice against indiscriminate spiritualist activities. This is because I am aware of both the dangers of possession and deception. However, if it were not for my trust in "X," and the trust that a friend in Paris placed in me, this book would never have existed. Doubt about the unseen author, or doubt about the visible medium, would likely paralyze both of them, preventing this scribe from fulfilling its purpose.

The effects these letters had on me were to completely eliminate any fear of death that I may have once held, and to strengthen my belief in immortality. They made the life beyond the grave as real and vibrant as the life here, in the sunlight. If these letters could give even one other person the feeling of joyful immortality that they gave to me, I would feel that my efforts have been rewarded.

To those people who want to blame me for publishing this book, the only thing I can say is that I have always tried to give my best to the world, and perhaps these letters are one of the best things I could offer.

ELSA BARKER

LONDON, 1913.