© 2026 Cool Wisdom Books. All rights reserved.

Decades before the word manifestation was a social media buzzword, people flocked to lectures by mystic Neville Goddard.  His theology was twofold, composed of “The Law,” which bends physical reality to human imagination, and “The Promise,” his understanding of spiritual rebirth. To Goddard, imagination is synonymous with God. He often cited real-world examples to demonstrate the Law in action. The Berle family story is one of those.

In Goddard’s telling, Joseph Berle, a destitute orphan from Odessa, Russia, used The Law to build an international business empire. Working with the same Law, one of Goddard’s students, Louise Walsh, manifested a journey to Paris, and met her future husband, Joseph Berle

But the Berles’ prosperity was founded on more than dreams. Encouraged by ballerina Anna Pavlova, Joseph and his sister, Laura, designed and marketed the original underwire bra. Then decades of high-end, retail hustle secured the loyalty of a wealthy clientele. Customers included Marilyn Monroe and the Queen of England.

According to Goddard, Louise had a gift for manifesting. Early in the second World War, she learned to weld fighter plane parts in Tucson, Arizona, and became one of the country’s first “Rosie the Riveters.” Her image was syndicated in publications across the US. 

The Berle’s youngest son, and Goddard’s namesake, is Neville Marc. Months before the boy’s birth, Goddard describes meeting him in a vision, and being informed of his birthday, November 10th. According to Goddard, the child would be spiritually awake, a prodigy who grasped the temporary nature of physical existence. Years later, Goddard recounted another conversation with his namesake. Neville Marc, he said, couldn’t wait to die, to “turn around in the body” and resume his true identity.

Goddard cited the Berle family as a prime example of the Law in action. When tragedy struck, and the Berles’ eldest son, Larry, was killed in a car accident, Goddard portrayed the loss as a profound spiritual “lesson,” for his parents. As he claimed to audiences, “infinite mercy did it all.”

For decades afterward, the name Neville Marc was known mostly among Goddard’s students. But where is that boy now?

In this exclusive interview, Neville Marc Berle comes forward with a rare perspective on the weight of spiritual expectation, the impact of unattended grief, and the power of addiction.

His journey ultimately pointed toward a different kind of awakening, one based in patient integration of body and mind, in disciplined practice, and in humble acceptance of his fully human nature.

Part I: The Weight of Prophecy

Q: In Goddard’s lectures, he described a conversation with you. You were 11 at the time. He said you referred to your physical body as a tightly woven skin. “If I could only stand still… turn around in the body, I would know who I am… I can’t wait to die!” Do you have any memory of saying this? 

Neville Marc: None at all, though I may have said something to that effect. Maybe trying to impress. But I have this vague memory, maybe from some altered state, of waking up between lives. A feeling like, ‘Ah, yes, I know this place. Here I am again. It’s hard to pin down but it’s always been with me.

Q: Goddard also claimed he knew you would be born on November 10th, and told your parents months in advance. Was the date accurate? 

Neville:  My parents had timed my conception, hoping I’d arrive on my dad’s birthday, November 14th. I was born on the 10th. 

Q: What was it like growing up, hearing stories of your arrival in this world, about your supposed cosmic awareness? 

Neville Marc: My mom told that story over and over when I was a kid. It was thrilling to hear, and intimidating. I was supposed to accomplish great things, be someone special. Did all that come through Goddard’s vision? Who knows? I kind of liked hearing it, but felt I could never measure up.

Q: Goddard often used your family to illustrate his teachings. Do you feel he misrepresented you?

Neville Marc: Not intentionally. Neville had his own take on things and, you know, he had a flair for the dramatic. He didn’t invent stuff, just embellished the truth. Our family was well off, not super wealthy. 

Q: Let’s talk about Goddard offstage. Tell me about your trip to Barbados. You’re 15, staying at your godfather’s beach cottage. What was that like? 

Neville Marc:  I’d gone to Barbados with a friend from school. His dad had a place on a remote beach, the windward side of the island. We had it to ourselves for two weeks and were bored out of our skulls. It was a relief when Neville invited me over. I stayed with him and Billy about 10 days. They were over on the lee side, the water was super clear, great for swimming.

During that time, Neville and Billy thought I’d enjoy meeting someone my age. They invited his niece to  come stay. She was cute. We got cozy. A week later, Neville sat me down for a talk. ‘Now I know your parents are liberal about sexuality, but here in Barbados we do things differently.’ He and Billy were probably freaking out, scared the girl would get pregnant. She was gone the next morning. 

Q: You mentioned your godfather introducing you to alcohol in Barbados. 

Neville Marc:  It was lovely. Some kind of mixed drink with rum. Neville was checking me out, looking amused. I was definitely buzzed. I could take or leave drinking but sharing it with Neville was special, like a rite of passage. 

Q: Did you meet Victoria, Neville’s daughter, or spend much time with his second wife, Billy? 

Neville Marc: Billy was wonderful, super warm and caring. Like Neville, she loved to drink. I remember Vicky from when we were kids. She visited my mom and me in Los Angeles years later. I was maybe 24 by then. Vicky and I talked briefly, I don’t remember much. 

Q: Your godfather famously experienced “The Promise” (being born from his skull). What are your thoughts on that, and how did your parents feel about it? 

Neville Marc: I read parts of The Law and the Promise in my teens, and was confused by it. Looking at it today, I think what Neville experienced was a mix of things. He may have tapped into some archetypal image involving rebirth, or been influenced by Christian mysticism. I know my mother took the story seriously, and was inspired by it.   

One of my clearest memories of Neville is from a Christmas party at my parents’. There were probably 75 to 100 people. Neville was into his cups and had this huge presence. I was around 12, and shy. I remember him beaming down at me. Meeting his eye was like looking into the sun. 

Part II: Glamour V. History

Q: To help ground these stories, I’d love to get a timeline – where you lived, and when.

Neville Marc: Before I was born, my parents had a place on Fifth Avenue. Later, we moved to Central Park South. I was about five when we left for Pacific Palisades, California. Four years there, then a move to Paris. So my dad could be closer to his business. In another two years, we were back in New York City. Very disorienting for me. 

Your father was a businessman who loved the arts, your mother was a painter. Did that influence how you grew up?

Neville Marc: I think my parents saw the artist in me, and couldn’t have been more supportive. 

I know you and your parents sailed to France around 1957, on the ocean liner Andrea Doria. Tell me about that. 

Neville Marc: Right. We had one-way tickets. The Andrea Doria sank on the trip back to New York.

Q: I found archival clippings from your father’s custom brassiere business. They mentioned his sister and business partner, Laura, how the two of them used piano wire in the bra’s original design. 

Neville Marc: Their dad was in the lingerie business. But in Paris, they started from scratch. They shortened their family name, Berlinerblau, to Berle, with an accent aigu. Better for business. My mother rarely wore their bras. She didn’t like the underwire. 

Q: Your father’s business attracted some famous clientele. 

Neville Marc: There were signed photos along the walls of his salon in New York. Marilyn Monroe, Marlena Dietrich, Clare Boothe Luce. The Queen of England was a customer, but kept it quiet. Didn’t want to be seen as unpatriotic

Q: In a 1971 lecture, Neville shared something your father told him: ‘Before you and I met, I knew of your teachings on The Law through my wife. (…) As a poor boy in Russia, I used it every day and proved it for myself.’ Can you tell me anything about your dad’s use of The Law? 

He used to tell a story about living in Paris during the German occupation. He and all Jews had to wear armbands with a Star of David. He wanted to leave France and the only way out was through the German authorities. As the story goes, he walked into German headquarters one day and asked to see the commanding officer. That in itself was dangerous. But somehow he got an interview with a ranking officer. If there was money involved, it guaranteed nothing. They could have taken all he had and put him on a train to Poland. The officer told him to come back next day and they’d see what they could do. That night, my dad told his sister and some friends about it. They thought he was nuts and begged him to stay home. He went back anyway, got his visa and sailed for New York.

Louise featured in Look magazine [1942]. Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved.

Newspaper clipping of Louise Walsh Austad at an airbase in Tucson, Arizona (August 18, 1941) AP. 

Q: Goddard described your mother, Louise Berlay, as “a model who took a one-week trip to Paris, and met her future husband on a blind date. But AP newspaper clippings from 1941, and a feature in Look magazine describe her as Mrs Louise Walsh Austad, a 25-year-old former secretary, making $12 a day as a “Rosie the Riveter.” She welded fighter plane parts and high-pressure gas lines in Arizona. How did she end up in Paris? 

Neville Marc: When my mom moved from Tucson to LA, she got a job as a bank teller. She got friendly with one of the customers, an older gentleman from Russia. He turned out to be an art dealer. He took her on as his apprentice. Later, he sent her to Paris on business, and set her up with some social contacts. She got invited to a party, my dad was one of the guests. They were the first to arrive and made an instant connection.

Q: Neville Goddard also claimed in a lecture that your father had been married five times. Is that accurate? 

Neville Marc: He was separated from his third wife when he met my mother. As I said, Neville tended to exaggerate.

Q: Your mother wrote The Magic of the Mind, but teachings on manifestation were never your thing.¹ 

Neville Marc: She sent me the book soon after it was published. I was in my mid-20s, and couldn’t get past the first few pages. I thought it was poorly written, and the whole manifesting thing turned me off. My mother had a big personality. I had to get out from under her shadow. That may have something to do with my feelings about the book.

Q: Your mother had quite a different life before marrying your dad. You mentioned she was on track to host a radio show. 

Neville Marc: The way she told it, she got friendly with a radio producer who set her up as MC for a variety show. Spinning records, doing interviews. Days before the first episode, she got the message there were strings attached to the job, and backed out. Decades later, she bought a video camera, one of those huge early models, and recorded talks on manifestation, and mystical experience. Those were posted to public access TV in New York.

I have a recording of an interview she did on WBAI. I was in the studio for the taping. What I remember most was her description of our relationship, it being ideal in every way. To me that was bullshit. It was a hard time for both of us. I think she was more comfortable with an idealized version of the world. I doubt she saw much of who I was, or wanted to be. 

Q: Your mother continued evolving in later life. She moved beyond teachings on manifestation. 

Neville Marc: Right. In the mid-1960’s, she started practicing at a Zen Buddhist center in midtown Manhattan. One of the first in the country. She did long retreats in upstate New York, and practiced intensively at home. That led to some mystical openings. In her book, she talks about one of those. Kundalini energy rising up her spine, shooting out the top of her skull. She was in a state of rapture, wandering around Central Park. She said the plants and trees were aware of her, celebrating with her.

Joseph and Louise in 1957. Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved. 

Part III: Fractures 

Q: In lectures, Goddard framed your older brother Larry’s death as a neat spiritual “lesson” for your parents, and claimed “infinite mercy did it all.” Privately, your family was suffering. How did your brother’s loss impact your home life?

Neville Marc: After Larry died, we had a reception at home. At least a hundred people. My dad asked his friend, Teddy – a violinist with the New York Philharmonic – to play something fitting. Teddy tried but was too broken up. He had to stop halfway through. Painful to watch. At that point, my mom and I walked out to Central park. We climbed this big glacial boulder overlooking the skating rink, and sprinkled Larry’s ashes up top. Same with my dad’s, two years later.

Before Larry’s death, my mother was already into Buddhist practice. She’d had some big mystical openings. When he died, it was like the mom I’d known disappeared. She turned into a weird, abstracted version of herself. All she could talk about was mystical experience. I drove my dad and me crazy. I think her experiences were real, and I think they were a spiritual bypass. Like a lot of families, especially in the US, we didn’t know how to grieve together, there was no support for it. We sort of pulled apart, and lost each other.

I numbed out, got high, and spent a lot of time with friends. We formed a band, played High School dances. The band was a lifeline. Then we got into psychedelics. My first few acid trips were blissful. But I had all this unconscious grief, and survivor’s guilt. It finally caught up with me. One night, we did massive doses of acid and speed. I got super paranoid and went into a kind of hell realm. The world I knew, faith in people I loved, all of it shattered. I walked around terrified for years. I didn’t trust my parents, and kept the drugs a secret. They knew I was hurting but couldn’t reach me.

From left to right: Joseph, Neville Marc, Louise, and Larry Berle. Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved.

Q: I’m so sorry. You sent me some early photos of your family. There’s one with a birthday party. Tell me about that.

Neville Marc: We were onboard ship, maybe the Queen Mary? It’s Larry’s birthday, my mom is cutting a cake. Larry’s in heaven, getting all this attention and I’m beside him, looking forlorn. Classic.

Joseph and Neville Marc in 1961. Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved. 

Q: Goddard described your father’s death as a sudden physical rupture, claiming he lived a “full, wonderful life up to the very end.” He passed away just a couple of years after your brother. How did he cope with that loss? 

Neville Marc: He was in his mid-seventies by then, and was devastated. And angry. He blamed the kid who’d been driving. A week or two before he died, he talked separately to me and my mother. He said he’d had enough, was ready to go. Didn’t seem bitter at that point, just resigned. He was gone a few days later.

Q: Another loss you carried. Did you attend your Dad’s funeral? 

Neville Marc: Sure. It happened to coincide with one for Igor Stravinsky. Same time, same funeral home. It was kind of a zoo.

Q: And your mother passed in the mid-90s? 

She’d had a series of small strokes the year before she died, then a big one. My girlfriend and I flew in from Hawaii. My cousin got to the hospital before us. He was giving her pep talks, trying to sell her on physical therapy, anything to bring her back. She wanted to please, and tried. But her right side was paralyzed, she couldn’t speak, had zero energy. No one knew how long she’d live, and I didn’t have funds to stick around. She died two weeks later. My girlfriend and I scattered her ashes off the coast of Maui.

Neville Marc and Baba Hari Dass in India, early 1990s. Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved.

Q: You covered a lot of ground, early on. From Ken Keyes’ community in Kentucky, to Osho’s in Oregon, then to Baba Hari Dass, in Santa Cruz. You travelled with him to Northern India with a group of followers. What prompted those transitions?

Neville Marc: My girlfriend at the Keyes community, (Cornucopia) was Canadian. We got married so she could stay in the US, and divorced a year later. Like a lot of Cornucopia residents, we got interested in Osho. (Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh) People were jumping ship, heading to Santa Cruz to be part of a community there. Cornucopia folded. I was just chasing the latest spiritual thing, and never committed myself to one path. But I have a lot of respect for those three teachers. I learned from all of them.

Peace Child crew in Santa Cruz, 1987 (Neville Marc front row, second from right). Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved. 

Q: During the 1987 Peace Child tour, you were part of an international production, a musical with Soviet and American kids. And you were also struggling with bulimia.

Neville Marc: Right. I was music director for the show, and loved it. I was this “spiritual” guy, and a closet bulimic. Jekyll and Hyde. The day the Russian kids arrived in Santa Cruz, I disappeared and stayed out all night. From one restaurant to another, binging and purging. When I showed up next day, my girlfriend, Madeline – she’d organized the tour – banned me from the production. It was the right thing to do. And it broke my heart. Kind of a wake up call, if I’d been listening. I got to see the show, but as an outsider. It served me right.

Left: Neville Marc Berle. Middle: In Hawaii. Right: Dove. Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved. 

Q: You mentioned a turning point. What was recovery like? 

Neville Marc: Before coming to Vermont, I lived in Hawaii for twelve years. It’s where I met my partner, Dove. My inheritance was nearly gone by then, I’d wasted most of it. Dove and I got close just around then. Dove invited me to stay with her, on the condition I straighten out. Getting clean was like losing a piece of me, but I didn’t want to disappoint her. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.

Dove had grown kids in Vermont, and wanted to be closer to them. After four years together, she asked if I’d be willing to move. We got here in the early 2000s. She died of cancer a few years later.

Before meeting Dove, I was rootless, had no sense of purpose. After she died, I moved to Montpelier and started volunteering at a community justice center. I connected with a writer’s group and joined a Buddhist sangha. Things started coming together. For the first time in my adult life, I felt I had something to offer.

Left to right: Birth and Hemlock, Pond’s Eye, and Surface Light. Paintings by Neville Marc (medium oil pastel with colored pencil). Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved. 

Part IV: Art and Integration 

Q: You studied illustration at Parsons School of Design, and were also into music. You mentioned recording an album in Santa Cruz. Tell me about that. 

Neville Marc: Listening to that album now, I’m embarrassed by most of it. It was self-published, the musicians were all Santa Cruz locals. Two of the songs were written by friends in the Hari Dass community. I assumed they were in the public domain and altered the arrangements and lyrics. Basically took credit for writing them. That lost me a couple of friends.

Q: I found your piece Cliffhanger intriguing. Tell me about its inception. 

Neville Marc: I was working with a therapist at the time, doing something called Internal Family Systems. You identify different characters inside and give each one a voice. That story and one other came out of IFS work. In my early 20s, I microdosed peyote for a few weeks. I was sitting alone in the desert one day and imagined these different parts sitting all around me. They took turns talking, telling me who they were. Given that experience, IFS felt right to me.

Find Neville Marc’s short stories and reflections at  https://medium.com/@nevilleberle/ 

Left to right: Eurich Pond, and Dawn Flow. Paintings by Neville Marc (oil pastel and colored pencil). Courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved. 

Q: Your godfather taught active manifestation. You practice Vipassana meditation, which involves sitting still and observing. How did you come to that practice? 

Neville Marc: I started meditating in my early 30s, and still sit every morning. It sort of frames the day. I tried Zen Buddhism but didn’t care for the ritual. Vipassana wis a better fit. 

Q: You’ve had a lot of experience with death. Have you had contact with the other side? 

Neville Marc: Nothing direct, or dramatic. I’m drawn to accounts of near-death experience, and find a lot of comfort in them. I think we’re here to learn from limitation, and to love each other within those constraints. I have a little altar at home with photos of my family. I meditate there every day and close with a Buddhist Metta prayer. You offer blessings to ancestors and important people in your life, then expand that to include the whole world. It’s one way I connect with my family. They’re never far if I’m paying attention.

Q: Having explored various spiritual paths, what do you see as your greatest spiritual challenge? 

Neville Marc: My greatest challenge… Stepping outside myself, truly seeing someone else, knowing their interior world is as real as my own.

¹Though the family name is written as “Berlé”, his mother formally adopted the phonetic spelling “Berlay” as her author name because she preferred the sound of the French pronunciation.

References:
Neville Goddard Lectures: “Consigned To Disobedience” (1971)
Neville Goddard Lectures: “The Way”
Neville Goddard Lectures: “The Word of God”
Neville Goddard Lectures: “God is the Great Artist”
Neville Goddard Lecture: Where is Gogotha? (April 1971)

© 2026 Cool Wisdom Books. All rights reserved.

Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this interview, in whole or in part, is strictly prohibited without prior written permission.

Image Credits: All personal family photographs and original artwork provided courtesy of Neville Marc Berle (© 2026). All rights reserved.