From:

http://www.independent.co.uk/enjoyment/Books/Reviews/2000-08/magicklife190800.sh
tml

Satanism and indoor golf

Notorious occultist Aleister Crowley revelled in his tabloid
reputation for bizarre sex-magic and 'vile practices'.

Beneath the demonic mask, however, was the Beast just a bored and
boring dilettante?

By Robert Irwin
19 August 2000

A Magick Life: a biography of Aleister Crowley by Martin Booth
(Hodder & Stoughton, £20, 508pp

Young Wife's Story of Crowley's Abbey. Scenes of Horror. Drugs,
Magic, and Vile Practices. Girl's Ordeal. Saved by the Consul."

So ran a headline in the Sunday Express in 1923, as it denounced
the occultist Aleister Crowley's experimental Thelemic community
near Cefalu in Sicily.

The community's watchword was "Do what thou wilt shall be the
whole of the Law". Although Crowley courted publicity, he always
seems to have been surprised how bad it was when he got it.

With his sinister reputation and open contempt for conventional
morality, he fulfilled a need in the popular press for a really
excellent villain to hound.

Also, Crowley was ever so good at getting himself into other
people's novels and stories. He appears under various names in
Somerset Maugham's The Magician, M R James's Casting the Runes,
Dion Fortune's The Winged Bull, Dennis Wheatley's The Devil Rides
Out, Christopher Isherwood's A Visit to Anselm Oakes, Ian
Fleming's Casino Royale, Anthony Powell's A Dance to the Music of
Time, Colin Wilson's Adrift in Soho and, most recently, in my own
novel, Satan Wants Me. He also featured on the sleeve of Sergeant
Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band.

A spectacularly evil man who possessed genuine occult powers is a
gift to any novelist, but was Crowley really that? Did he really
conjure up demons, and did they come when he called them?

Martin Booth, a novelist and biographer, makes a good case for
Crowley as a first-rate mountaineer, chess-player and
conversationalist. He also argues that on such matters as sex and
drugs, he was a thinker ahead of his times, and hence his revived
popularity in the 1960s.

Booth has made use of the Crowley papers in the Warburg Institute
and his book, which reads easily, is longer and more thorough
than the other most recent life, Roger Hutchinson's Aleister
Crowley: the Beast demystified.

However, though Booth's book is better than most of the 30 or 40
lives of Crowley that have so far appeared, he is not on very
sure ground when he discusses occult matters. Booth's notion of
what is magic is wishy-washy.

According to Booth, what Crowley "classed as magic would today be
considered an amalgam of the subconscious, the imagination and
the techniques of reaching through to control or communicate with
them often to be found in a psychiatrist's office".

Not magic at all, then.

At another point, Booth refers to the occultist MacGregor Mathers
working in Paris on one of the most famous works of magic, The
Key of Solomon, "which consisted of an ancient ritual of
initiation and the true attribution of trump cards in the tarot
pack". No, it did not.

The manuscripts of The Key that Mathers worked on were in the
British Museum and, though there are interesting spells for
things like making magic carpets and exorcising bats, there is no
initiation ritual nor any overt reference to tarot cards.

Booth is also unreasonably credulous about the occult
propensities of the Nazis. It is true that Himmler had serious
occult interests, but Hitler and Goebbels had no time for such
stuff.

In general, the Nazis preferred torturing occultists to listening
to them. As for Crowley's alleged part in Hitler's downfall, his
contribution seems to have been somewhat less than that of Spike
Milligan.

Crowley sent a copy of his Magick in Theory and Practice to
Dennis Wheatley, when the latter was still only an apprentice
novelist. Wheatley was provoked to write The Devil Rides Out.
People who know of black magic and black masses from stuff like
Wheatley's novel may think of these things as glamorous and
exciting.

Either the Goat of Mendes will make itself manifest, or the Duc
de Richelieu will turn up to rescue some virgin from being
ravished by Satanists. The truth is that the only black mass I
ever attended was a rather dreary affair. Most of the magical
texts I have read, including Crowley's, have been similarly
boring.

There is a dated Edwardian feel to much of Crowley's writing and,
though he certainly read widely in occult and oriental mystical
texts, I have the feeling that his self-presentation as a magus
owed more to a reading of such Edwardian peddlers of fictional
occultism as Arthur Machen, Algernon Blackwood, Marie Corelli and
Bram Stoker.

In Edwardian parlance, there was something "not quite sixteen
annas to the rupee" to Crowley. Isherwood hit the mark when he
observed that the "truly awful thing about Crowley is that one
suspects he didn't really believe in anything. Even his
wickedness. Perhaps the only thing that wasn't fake was his
addiction to heroin and cocaine".

Having inherited a private income, Crowley spent the first part
of his life travelling, mountaineering, dabbling in mysticism,
designing boomerangs, trying to invent a gadget for indoor golf -
anything to pass the time. Then, when the money ran out, Crowley
had to sell himself as a serious occult hierophant and set to
peddling an eclectic and inconsistent brand of sex-magic:
self-improvement through mystic buggery, among other things.

There was a long diminuendo from the glory days of the 1920s
until his death in 1947. He scrounged off friends, scrabbled
about for journalistic assignments, and increased his drugs
intake.

Professor E M Butler, a serious researcher into the occult,
interviewed Crowley in his last years. She found him to be
"oppressive, boring, egotistical and narrow-minded, a seedy
little man with thick spectacles and a yellow addict's face, a
tear lingering in one corner of his eye".

I am not sure that Crowley deserved Martin Booth's dedicated
research and enthusiasm.


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