Smuggler - Nicholas Fillmore’s fiercely honest account of his crossing over from hanging out as a post-grad dharma bum in a New England college town to being a link in the chain within the underworld of international drug smuggling.
Before delving into more detail, let me make two things abundantly clear: Smuggler is a very well written book and Smuggler makes for a compelling read. I intended taking my time, finishing a few chapters a day over the course of a couple weeks, but once I started, I gladly keep turning those pages deep into the night.
Ok. So the question looms: Why would a twenty-nine year old college-educated regular kind of guy get mixed up in smuggling heroin in the first place? Actually, there’s a confluence of at least four reasons. The first has to do with the author’s aspiration to be a writer. Turns out, an English prof told young Nicholas that to be a writer is only “if you’re foolish enough to throw your life away.” Damn those boobs who discourage someone wishing to devote their creative energies to writing! If I had been present during that exchange, I think I would have given the prof a well-deserved kick in the ass. One can only wonder how Nicholas’ life would have developed had he been encouraged rather than discouraged.
The second reason is the main reason. In Nicholas’ own words: “whatever else might be said of my decision to smuggle heroin, it was perfectly clear to me that I was on a fool’s errand – not out of any overt design to be a fool, of course, but to feel life up close, hold my hand to the hotplate of experience, a fool all the same.” So there you have it – a restatement of Joseph Campbell’s judgement that we humans are not after the meaning of life nearly as much as we yearn to feel fully alive, to live with a sense of immediacy and intensity. Well, none will doubt, if you’re after intensity, drug smuggling will fit the bill – on second thought, make that many stacks of bills of large denominations, ergo full throttle intensity.
You might wonder: Was Nicholas smoking pot, snorting cocaine, popping pills or even shooting heroin? The answer is an emphatic “no” on all counts. Rather, he was leaning on another drug for support, a legal one - in the author’s own words: “Alcohol was my heroin, a benefaction.” Although others might downplay the effects of booze, I do not – thus I count the bottle as a contributing factor and reason number three Nicholas turned to drug smuggling.
Reason number four is one we can all understand. At the time, Nicholas was living with his girlfriend, working as a waiter and scratching to pay the rent. Plain and simple – having a nice big pile of greenbacks sure would be a welcomed switch from continually being broke. Dinner at upscale restaurants, new car, fancier digs, never having to worry about money . . . wow, there’s a measure of pleasure just thinking of what it would be like to live like that.
Next up: How do you to justify that your heroin smuggling contributes to the destruction and death of countless men, women and children? This is such a critically important question, I’ll let Nicholas answer in his own words: “Of course we were thoroughly callow. What had heroin addicts to do with us? we reasoned - or their friends or families, or whole societies undermined by a culture of lawlessness to do with us? We were merely fulfilling a demand, a prescription. I reckoned myself unaccountable by the same logic everyone reckons himself unaccountable.”
But, but, but . . . as Nicholas discovers early in the game, as a smuggler of heroin, there’s no room for tippy-toe. Once you’re in, you’re in completely. When Nicholas is on a train or an airplane or in those inevitable sticky spots such as airports, he must forever be on his guard: Is that tall guy in the suit an undercover FBI agent? Will security at this airport search me or my suitcase? Can I really trust the people I’m working with or working for? In a word, paranoia isn’t an on and off thing – quite the contrary – drug smuggling = paranoia. For, if you are caught off your guard even once, depending on the country – Jakarta, France, India, Singapore – you could face years in prison or even the death penalty.
And along the way, we get to know a number of women and men who are also in the smuggling game, among their number: Claire, the sister of Nicholas’ girlfriend who brings him into the drug world under the guise of a publisher of a zine magazine; a guy Nicholas calls Piss-Paul, a seasoned smuggler who takes Nick’s very presence as a personal affront, the type of guy who wants his cut of the money, fairness be damned, and isn’t hesitant to blow up deals if he doesn’t get his own way; Barry, who plays the part of a faithful beagle in following Piss-Paul around and forever doing his bidding; Alhaji, the boss from Nigeria who believe in witch doctors and witchcraft as a way to instill loyalty in his heroin smugglers – he has Nick even swear an oath as part of a witch doctor’s ritual.
All in all, Smuggler packs one hell of a wallop, a book speaking to our current day international society and culture and deserving a wide audience. Get yourself a copy and enjoy the ride - all the while thankful you're not the one smuggling heroin.
Nicholas Fillmore currently lives in Hawaii with his wife, his daughter and three dogs. He's at work on his next book.
"In the end a smuggler stands for nothing, a mask inside a mask, a means to an end, a series of compromises, deferrals, evasions, substitutions. For a moment, though, everything seemed plausible." - Nicholas Fillmore, Smuggler
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