Death by Astonishment: A Book Report

From our friends at The Chronicles of Kykeon

I first ready Andrew Gallimore’s book, Death by Astonishment, last year. I’ve been recommending it ever since. It’s one of those books that wants to be respectable but also radical. That is not an easy task with a subject inherently slippery. It succeeds, which is more than you can say for most psychedelic writing.

The book begins with a history lesson that starts in the Amazon with ayahuasca and its Indigenous roots. Gallimore moves us through time with the details of how DMT gets isolated, named, criminalized, and whispered about. He treats all this background as necessary groundwork, which it is.

After the history lesson things get interesting and uncomfortable. Gallimore lays out the phenomenology carefully with the geometric tunnels, the entities, the sense of being ‘somewhere else’ that doesn’t match other psychedelics. LSD bends this world. DMT seems to switch to a different one entirely. He’s good at showing you why this matters and why it’s genuinely strange that so many people, across cultures, report such similar things.

The real question with DMT is, of course, what is really happening? The conservative position is that it’s all endogenous brain chemistry creating elaborate hallucinations and pattern-recognition systems misfiring in consistent ways. Gallimore reviews these explanations and finds them incomplete. Then he goes into an area where you may or may not prefer to follow. He suggests DMT might actually be tuning the brain to receive information from somewhere else. Not heaven, not the spirit world exactly, but some kind of adjacent reality that’s always there, just not accessible through normal neural configurations.

I know how that sounds. He knows how it sounds too, and doesn’t pretend otherwise, but he also doesn’t apologize for it. The argument involves information theory and dimensional mathematics, all deployed with enough precision that you can at least see the shape of what he’s proposing, even if you think it’s wrong. That’s respectable. Most people making claims like this either get mystical and vague or try to dress speculation up as established fact. Gallimore stays in the uncomfortable middle ground. He tells us what he thinks might be happening, why it might be happening, and where the gaps are.

He’s clearly read deeply in both the ethnographic literature and the neuroscience and manages to keep both in view without the book becoming an academic slog. There’s a section on extended-state DMT infusions, basically keeping someone in the DMT space for longer than the usual fifteen minutes. I find that type of speculation fascinating, it is the kind of work that makes you think about what psychedelic research could look like if we weren’t still so constrained by the drug war’s aftermath.

Death by Astonishment is a serious, thoughtful attempt to take DMT experiences at face value. They are veiwed not as delusions to be explained away, but as data that demands explanation. This approach is rare enough to be valuable. Most psychedelic literature is either too credulous or too dismissive, either New Age mush or reductionist handwaving. Gallimore’s trying to do something harder by treating these experiences as genuinely mysterious without abandoning intellectual standards. Whether you think he succeeds probably depends on what you walked in believing, but the attempt itself feels significant.

The book is important and has earned a place on my shelf. It is worth reading if you’re interested in DMT, consciousness studies, or just how far you can push conventional neuroscience before it stops having useful things to say. The book won’t settle anything, nothing could, but it might change what questions you’re asking.

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published by our friends at the Chronicles of Kykeon over on Substack - be sure to support and subscribe!