Archive for the ‘Bibliophilia’ Category

The Red Goddess

BY: Mark

Scarlet Imprint, one of my favorite esoteric publishers, recently republished their first book, The Red Goddess, in an unlimited paperback version. As this was one of the few books of theirs I didn’t have, I eagerly jumped at the opportunity to procure it. I’ll been working my way through it this summer. While the author, Peter Grey, has written it as a manifesto for magickians, it also serves well as a call to arms for writers. We, too, know a little something about the Red Goddess, though we tend to call Her by a different name.

Unless you can fall in Love all your works are as nothing . . . Your mind must be consumed with passion for Her, your body resonating to Her pulse. If your devotion is pure the Holy Whore will receive you in the body of her Priestess. If you have never been in Love then stop reading now. There is no point in reading a book on the Goddess of Love when you have not experienced it. (pp. 43-44)

Isn’t that the way every writer got their start? Falling in Love with someone else’s words, wondering how that magic could be accomplished. Lying awake at night, staring into the darkness, thinking of how you were going to write differently, better. You were going to change the world with your words. You were going to seduce your Muse.

Loosen up. Have a drink and allow yourself to be intoxicated with Love for the Whore Goddess. If that is not enough She will quite happily spike your drink and drag you down to he’ll. Some of us can meet Her over a cocktail, others of us will need rohypnol and ravishment. (p. 56)

Suddenly, the point of a writers’ convention becomes astonishingly clear, doesn’t it?

Grey is a bit hyperbolic in his soap-boxing, but it is entirely forgivable, given his subject matter. He is, after all, taking on several thousand years worth of patriarchal nonsense when it comes to occult thinking. We could use a bit of inflammatory rhetoric to kick us out of our moribund ways of thinking. In the first part, Grey walks through a history of the Red Goddess, from Sumeria to Egypt, from Jerusalem through the holy apocalypse of Revelations. Throughout these periods and places, there were cults and sects who looked upon the face and body of the Goddess and found what they were looking for. Mary Magdalene was kissed by Jesus and held in higher regard than any of his companions, and this devotion lasted until his death upon the cross.

And then everything fell apart. As it does.

Grey offers lip service to the stories of the Holy bloodline–the descendants of Jesus and Mary who fell into the myth of the West–but, much like his earlier discussion of Her story, he says that all of these tales are but the dusty record of who She was. His concern–and what every modern magickian should be thinking about–is the presence of Babalon in our lives now.

[more to follow . . .]

Maier’s Jocus Severus and the art of Jose Luis Rodriguez Guerra

BY: Mark

Ouroboros Press has been celebrating the release of their latest book, Michael Maier’s Jocus Severus, and it all culminated in a release party in Seattle over the weekend. I’m a big fan of William Kiesel’s work, both in the selection of titles that Ouroboros is publishing and in his typographical work, and so I wandered up north to attend the party.

The launch party took place at the Rodriguez Guerra Art Studio, a second floor loft studio off Pioneer Square. It was a surprisingly sedate night for Downtown Seattle, and I found parking under the Viaduct–not far from a shapeless lump that made me think of the sack in the girlfriend’s apartment in Miike’s Audition. Naturally, as soon as I had that thought, the homeless man sleeping under the tattered wool blanket moved, and I whistled to keep the dark things away.

Anyway, it’s a shame I can’t get the Internet to cough up a representative sampling of Jose Luis Rodriguez Guerra’s art as it was very engaging. Born in Mexico, he came to the US as a migrant worker and eventually was able to sustain himself as an artist (and I’m cribbing from memory from an article posted on gallery wall). He works in oil on large slabs of wood and masonite, and his pictures are filled with Mexican and Mayan iconography. A number of his pieces were larger than life-sized, split into bands of warm sun-drenched colors and dark earthy tones.

He mentioned in this article that it was a shame that artists couldn’t find more spaces to showcase their art as a collective unit versus being lost in gallery with a dozen other artists, and seeing such a large collection of his work in one location really drove home that point. He has a habit of dividing his paintings into thirds, with the upper third being clearly demarcated by the horizon of his landscape, and he had arranged all the paintings so that line was at the same level throughout the room. With that sort of visual anchor, you started to look at the paintings as units within a larger narrative, and the reoccurring motifs started to emerge. Some of these visual echoes were only visible from specific points in the room–you had to stand in the corner of the alcove near the front door to see a certain repetition of a male figure, for example.

Art, in this instance, becomes not an isolated expression, but an on-going exploration that will probably take his entire life to fully articulate.

The gallery is at 80 South Washington Street, and is well worth the short detour from First Avenue if you’re wandering about Pioneer Square.

Anyway, the release of Jocus Severus. William gave a brief talk about Maier and the time period in which he lived (specifically mentioning the glorious era of Rudolph II, when it was de riguer for all alchemists and like-minded occultists to make a pilgrimage to Prague). While Maier is mainly known for his exceptionally forward-thinking “multi-media” tome, Atalanta Fugiens, Jocus Severus is an allegorical defense of alchemy. It’s an extended dialogue between a number of birds, who are set on defaming the Owl. Fortunately, the Hawk and the Phoenix wander by, and they come to the stately birds defense. This is the first English translation (done by Darius Klein, who also translated Ouroboros’ last release, Giordano Bruno’s Cantus Circaeus), and it features very nice typographical elements by artist Benjamin Vierling, who also contributed cover art and a splendid folding plate depicting all the birds who participate in this alchemical dialogue. (More details about the edition can be found at Ouroboros’ blog–this entry, in fact.)

This is the first time I’ve actually been able to get my grubby little hands on the more limited editions that William does, and while I’m the sort of reader who likes to use his books rather than look at them, I do have to admit that it was difficult to pass on the leather edition. While part of me is very involved in electronic methods of publishing, part of me really loves the feel of a well-produced book.

On the release of Jake Stratton-Kent’s Geosophia

BY: Mark

Jake Stratton-Kent’s staggering Geosophia has been released by Scarlet Imprint. In case you were all wondering what to do with the envelopes of cash you’ve received over these last few days. End of year tithings and what-not.

This is the standard hardback edition (read somewhat limited), and very enticing. Scarlet Imprint has also started their Bibliotheque Rouge imprint, devoted to making some of their works available in a much more affordable format (read not as sexily crafted paperback versions). For those who prefer to read their history of magic while on the can, or on the bus, or some other place where people with grubby fingers might try to touch your books.

Scarlet Imprint’s press release notes:

This is Jake Stratton-Kent’s masterpiece, tracing the development of magic from the Greeks to the grimoires, it lays bare the chthonic roots of ritual. By exposing the necromantic origins of much of modern magic we are able to reconnect with the source of our ritual tradition. There is a continuity of practice in the West which encompasses the pre-Olympian cults of Dionysus and Cybele, is found in the Greek Magical Papyri and Picatrix and flows into the grimoires. Rather than a muddle of superstition, the grimoire tradition is revealed as the living descendant of the ancient practices of the Goes.

This is a work which redefines our understanding of the Western Tradition, one which does not begin with Cabbala or Solomon, but rather descends into the Underworld and brings forth new life. JSK illuminates scarce and overlooked texts with an incisive commentary, from volcanic conjourations to over 70 pages dealing withPicatrix. Following the voyage of the Argonauts, Geosophiaoffers biographies of the heroes and gods, and discovers the hidden magical meanings and significance of their actions and adventures.

I’m looking forward to reading this. In fact, in 2011, I’m looking forward to reading a lot.

UPDATE: Scarlet Imprint has posted a PDF of the introduction.

Esoteric Book Conference

BY: Mark

I only managed to make it to the first day of presentations at the Esoteric Book Conference in Seattle. Held at the Northwest Rooms of the Seattle Center, it’s a quiet little arrangement of a book fair, a room for presentations, and a small art show. Somewhat of a blink-and-miss-it arrangement, and if you wander too far, you end up in a much larger ballroom where the Seattle Miniature Dollhouse show was going on.

As one can imagine, it was pretty easy to tell the difference between the two, and not just from the general wardrobe difference between the patrons of each. Still, an odd little juxtaposition on a somewhat rainy fall day.

Hosted by William Kiesel (proprietor of Ouroboros Press), Michael Kolson (of Night of Pan Books), and Catamara Rosarium (who unveiled Rosarium Blends, an alchemical endeavor that is concocting ways to enrich our sensory lives), the Esoteric Book Conference is in its second year, and from the outset, it was clear that the participants were eager to dive into two days of esoteric book talk. Last year, attendance at the lectures seemed to creep up to a reasonable level–a number that was clearly matched in the first lecture this morning. People were ready to talk about the occult today.

The first presenter was Debra Chesnut, and her topic was the spoken aspect of rituals from the ancient mysteries to modern occult societies–the legomena. No one would argue with her about the idea that words have power, and she quickly dove into the practical application of that concept: how you say the word is almost as important as the word itself. The Greek language, she notes, was not meant to be read, it was meant to be spoken aloud. The written word was only meant to guide the speaker, and most Greeks never read silently. She cites Plato’s dialogue Cratylus as being not only about the meaning of language, but also about how to speak properly.

From there she progressed to the Chant of the Seven Vowels (see Joscelyn Godwin’s book The Mystery of the Seven Vowels for much more detail). The vowels invoke power; the consonants are the container. How you contain and direct the vowels via consonants is how you manifest power. The Tetragrammaton is nothing more than a series of vowel sounds; IAO–which shows up on amulets in the Middle East, is the Greek spelling of the Tetragrammaton, and is the name of a valley on Maui–is clearly a resonance of vowel sounds that transcends cultures and regions. Chesnut walks through examples found on gold tablets in Greek burial sites, within the Corpus Hermeticum, the Mithraic Liturgy, and Zoastrian Hymns to Mithras.

She closed with a quote from the Chaldean Oracles of Julianus.

Never change the barbarous names;
For there names in every nation given from god,
Which have unspeakable power in rites.
When thou seest a sacred fire without form,
Shining, flashingly through the depths of the world,
Hear the voice of fire.

The next presenter I had a chance to hear was David Beth of La Société Voudon Gnostique, who was celebrating the release of a new edition of his book, Voudon Gnosis. His presentation was on the Qliphoth and Nightside Gnosis, two things very near and dear to my heart. He began with a bit of a poke at the “fluffy” groups who look upon Qliphotic pathworkings as their “kink.” Western students of the spiritual arts tend to have a consumerist attitude; they expect answers to be served to them in easily digestible chunks, and when those aren’t offered, they get petulant. “Well, if you don’t give me what I want–” (insert outraged foot stomp) “–then I’ll take my business over here, and boy, won’t you be sorry!” (aka The Supermarket Model of New Age Spiritual Seeking) As a result, some groups look to Qliphotic workings as the off-the-beaten-path material that will keep their fussy constituents happy and engaged.

This is not the Voudon Gnosis model, obviously.

The Qliphotic workings are an inverse way of examining reality, and Beth made the comparison that if study of Universe A was ontological, then study of Universe B was meontological. A lefthand adept understands that bliss cannot be truly received and comprehended if it is not relished. One must be cognizant of what one is experiencing–i.e., maintaining their individuality as a perceptive point–in order to know it. Individuality is not relinquished during gnosis. Working through the Qliphotic Tree–along the Pathways of Frustration–is to be able to understand a synthesis with everything without extinguishing the distinction between the perceived and the perceiver.

It’s a highly individualized process. “The Law may be for All,” Beth says, “But the Gnosis may not be.” When gnosis is attained, there is a reversal of energy within the adept. No longer is he or she nourished by the Golden Light, but he or she will be powered by the Black Sun, the Cosmic Luciferian Manifestation.

His presentation offered a great deal of food for thought, and it certainly dovetails (with less terminology) with the course of thought I’ve been exploring. An underlying precept of the Codex of Souls is the individuation of enlightenment, and I can see that I’ve got some more reading ahead of me, which is perfectly timed as I should be starting Book 3 fairly soon.

Finally, Daniel Shulke have a presentation on the newly released Occult Reliquary, a collection of material from the Richel-Eldermans Collection in the Museum of Witchcraft in Boscastle, Cornwall. The Occult Reliquary is a large-format book containing more than 250 illustrations (many of them in full color) from the collection, and Shulke pointed out that the material in the book is around 10% of the collection. There is a tradition among secret societies and occultists that libraries and artefacts be destroyed upon the death of their holders (though, in many cases, “destroyed” may simply mean “removed from the public’s conscious awareness”), and to have such a collection preserved for public viewing is somewhat miraculous. Though, there is speculation that the entire collection may have been 10X larger than what was preserved.

The collection of charms, images, magical seals, and other ritual objects stem mainly from the workings of Ars Amatoria, a European magical order that–perhaps not surprisingly, given the antecedent of their name–employed sex magic in their workings. There are also some material relating to the M∴M∴ and the A∴A∴ (again, the whole sex magic angle).

It’s a gorgeous book (as are all the books produced by Three Hand Press), and Shulke’s discussion of the history of the collection (received from the Dutch collector, Bob Richel, who, in turn, inherited much of it from his father-in-law, Mr. Eldermans) was a welcome insight into the secrecy–and controversy–surrounding the legacy of occult collections.

The Manic Energy of Libraries In Flux

BY: Mark

Llewellyn has recently posted an interview with Tess Whitehurst about her new book, Magical Housekeeping. While it’s mainly a PR piece promoting the book, she does mention how a home intrinsically mirrors the energy states of the inhabitants (and vice versa).

Recently I stumbled across John Ottinger’s query to the Blogosphere: How Do You Organize Your Library?

These two things came crashing together today as I’m working on making the office/library my working office. All–well, a full bookcase worth–of the occult books were on the north side of the room (my desk is against the east wall), and next to me were the fiction books. I realized I don’t need the fiction leering at me while I work, and so I decided to swap these two groups. As I was pulling books, I realized there were a couple other shelves of books that hadn’t been properly filed, and now was a good time to get everything organized.

An hour later, I’ve got another bookcase’s worth of books stacked on the floor, occult books on both walls, and the fiction stacked at the back of the room. My energy is scattered–no doubt of that–but the discoveries I’ve made. There’s been a lot of acquisitions over the last few years; now, hopefully, I’ll have some time to read them all.

In the meantime, I need to get these shelves organized. A dozen or so sticky notes dividing them into smaller categories is going to help for a bit, but some of these are going to confound pigeon-holing. Like they do.

And I need a lecturn/display stand for Jung’s The Red Book. It’s too tall for any shelf, and frankly, it begs to be left open to lure in the casual reader.

Christie’s to Auction Illustrated Manuscripts

BY: Mark

In July, Christie’s is going to auction Part I of The Arcana Collection: Exceptional Illuminated Manuscripts and Incunabula. Forty-eight lots, with an estimated worth of £11 million to £16 million.

As Art Daily mentions in their write-up of the announcement, illustrated manuscripts were prize possessions during the medieval period as they were more than just books; they were little art galleries, customized for their owners, and each one is an unique record of a time and place. Like time capsules of the way artists and their patrons saw themselves and their world.

A couple of lots made me wish I had a secret stash of cash money to throw down.

- An Italian manuscript Bible (late 13th century) that appears to have been used in a Dominican convent. The allure of this book is its borders of “diverting genre scenes and fantastical creations far from the routine religious illustrations that might be expected.” Theodoric Borgognoni’s death (c.1296) is marked in the Calendar, suggesting that he may have commissioned the manuscript. He was the Bishop of Cervia, and is remembered for being one of the most innovative surgeons in the medieval period. Christie’s estimates this book is worth somewhere between £2,500,000 to £3,500,000.

- A copy of the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (valued at £220,000 to £260,000) is the copy once owned by Jean Grolier de Servières, a famed 15th-century bibliophile.