When de Sade, from whose name the sickness sadism comes – de Sade was finally sent to jail. He was a marquis, so it was very difficult to catch him. He had his own territory, a small kingdom of his own, and it was difficult to find witnesses against him. Every day he needed a new woman to torture – and he would get hold of any woman, whoever caught his eye; his people would go and get hold of the woman.
He had a special chamber – it would be ironical to call it a love chamber, but it was his love chamber. In his chamber there were hanging, all around the walls, strange instruments that he had created; he was a very inventive mind. And all those instruments were to torture you. He always used to keep a bag with him, like a doctor’s bag, in case he was somewhere else and an opportunity arose. So he had a few special miniature instruments in his bag, portable – a portable hell. The real hell was in his palace.
Finally, when he was caught and forced to confess, no one could believe that this man could have thought of so many ways of torturing people. The first thing he would do – the woman had to be naked and he would beat her. She would scream and cry and run and he would follow her and lash her till blood started oozing out of her body; only then would he make love.
This man had written in his diary every detail about how his instruments had to be used, how a certain instrument would force needles under your nails…. And you could not escape; your hands would be caught in the mechanism, and the needles would go underneath your nails. The more you screamed and the more you cried, the more he would enjoy it. He would put the woman on a bed of ice, naked, and make her lie down on it: she would be tied to the bed of ice. Naturally she would try in every possible way to get out of it – and this was his joy.
When I read about his life and his imprisonment also…because he died in prison. He was put in prison because he was a dangerous man and it was not possible to change him. During his imprisonment he started writing novels. As novels they are third-rate, but as far as revealing the criminal mind is concerned there is no competition with his novels. Nobody has ever been able to compete, because what he now could not actually do, he was doing in the novels.
When I was reading all these scriptures of religions and the way they have described hell, it seemed these people who were writing were closer to de Sade. Rather than being called saints, they should be called sadists. They were not doing anything but they were writing. That’s what de Sade did in the last part of his life: he enjoyed writing because doing was no longer possible.
These saints could not do these things because if they did then they would not be saints any more. They were also imprisoned – in respectability. The whole society was worshipping them, and they could not lose that. So they found a way to write all those things which if there had been a possibility, an opportunity, they would have done themselves. In fact a sane mind, a healthy mind, will not even think of these things.
These are all sick people – and religions have all been dominated by sick people.