Kenny Klein
The Flowering Rod: Men and Their Role in Paganism
Megalithica Books (January 30, 2009)
ISBN: 978-1905713288
200 pages
Reviewer: Soli

 

Much discussion still comes from the role of women in neopaganism, and the fact that they have a voice which is still denied in many monotheistic traditions. Because of this, there is a more prevalent focus on women’s mysteries, while mysteries for men are largely absent from the conversation. Kenny Klein seeks to start adjusting that balance with his book The Flowering Rod, which was originally released in 1993.

The rituals included in the book cover the eight sabbats of the Wiccan wheel of the year. The rituals work with a variety of myths, from the Oak and Holly kings to Persephone’s descent in the underworld. Each follow a standard Wiccan format, but especially focus on the divine male. The rituals also encourage men to think about their roles in life and how they interact with the world. Emphasis is placed on those male qualities which do not fall in the limited ideas of what is “manly” behavior. For this, the book is a great reminder to men of what they can be. They are not limited to what society tells them is their role and what makes them real men. We need to encourage this mindset much more and make it more visible. For this, the book is a good tool.

Unfortunately, the spirit of the book for me was greatly soured by several points of inaccurate information. Klein spends a good deal of the first part of the book on the idea that the original peoples of Europe were all egalitarian and that the Indo-European invasion forced patriarchy on the once peaceful folk. Further, statements such a Tyr being the original master of the runes and Odin usurping that position, and that the Goddess Ostara was in fact Ishtar (I doubt Bede would have been familiar with Sumerian mythology) made me balk and put down the book for a while because I was so put off by such blatant errors. Then there is the rehash of the idea that nine million people were executed during the Inquisition, a number greatly overinflated and now the mark of very bad research. Apparently, Klein could update his book to include mention of Magical Judaism by Jennifer Hunter (published in 2006) but not to correct this falsehood. The claim that a British tradition of a Seven Year King, decided on by sports competitions, is the predecessor of the Olympics finally put me over the edge. When such basic history is tossed to the wayside, I have to wonder at the accuracy of the Welsh mythology he uses to make his points throughout the book.

I think that gender mysteries should make a comeback and support those who are developing men’s and women’s mysteries. This can be done without revisionist history. Take a look at the book if you are interested in the topic, but do keep a salt cellar nearby.

Two out of five stars.

©2010 by Soli.
Edited by Sheta Kaey.

Douglas “Dag” Rossman
Seven Paws Press (June 30, 2005)
ISBN: 978-0964911390
252 pages
Reviewer: Soli

 

At first glance, Norse mythology can be a daunting dragon. Rough living, the world coming into being from a cow licking an ice man and humans starting as trees, enough names with Thor as a root you would need a spreadsheet to keep track of them, and then the world ends and no one can stop it and even the Gods die. Not only can it be depressing, but finding a good starting place isn’t always easy. I regularly see people new to Heathenry inquiring about good books to start with in order to become familiar with the lore. Douglas “Dag” Rossman has provided one which I think should be in the top five list of Things to Read First In Asatru with his book, The Northern Path: Norse Myths and Legends Retold…And What They Reveal.

The first section of the book is Rossman’s retelling of several tales from the Eddas along with his take on Beowulf and the Nibelungenlied. His tales focus heavily on those involving Old One Eye, including a take on the tale of Odhreorir very much in line with my fellowship’s view of the relationship between Odhinn and Gunnlod. “Beowulf” and the Ring cycle have both been greatly compressed, and are a much less intimidating introduction to both tales. Finally, Dag shares stories of Thor, the theft of Idunna’s apples, how Skadhi came to marry Njord, Loki’s binding, and Ragnarok. Each of the stories in the book show Dag’s own style, and not all follow what would be considered the canon of the lore. I don’t think this is a drawback; since there was certainly no written canon a thousand years ago, it is easy to think of different skalds varying stories based on region and their experiences.

Part two of the book covers Germanic cosmology and gives insight into the mindset of the people. Among the topics covered are the relevance of mythology, how he himself came to be a skald, an introduction to the Aesir, Vanir, elves, the enemies of the gods, the significance of Ragnarok, and how the lore has survived into modern times. I was very interested to read about his own experiences of creating an initiatory experience using the lore for young men attending Sons of Norway campouts. The idea of teen boys learning about their ancestry by participating in mock adventures and having to fare out alone at night combined with the mythology would make the Gods come alive for these young men. Truly, I am surprised that Rossman did not identify outright as Heathen, though he does mention people worshiping the Gods in modern times and his own implementation of an old Germanic mindset in his life.

One line that stuck out for me when I was reading was this section where he describes his idea that the battle between Thor and Jormundgand as allegory for order and chaos in the universe.

“In the scenario just described, it seems clear that Thor acts as a representative of Order, and the Midgard Serpent a representation of Chaos. Their first two encounters are standoffs, a reflection of the dynamic balance that exists between Order and Chaos, and which I believe lies at the heart of the orlog. So long as this balance is maintained, the Nine Worlds will continue to exist. Should Thor finally prevail over the Serpent of Chaos, nothing could ever change, stagnation would set in, and all possibilities for future creativity would cease. Should Thor be slain, Order would totally disintegrate, and the Nine Worlds with it. Alas, the Eddas tell us of yet a third possibility, a final confrontation between the two adversaries at Ragnarok (the Doom of the Gods) in which both will be slain …and the Nine Worlds consumed by fire and flood.” (p. 194-195)

I don’t agree with the honoring of giants who are depicted as outright enemies of the Gods, mind, but I thought this to be one of the simplest and clearest explanations as to why they might exist.

This is an excellent book for any Heathen library. Not only is it perfect to hand to someone to introduce them to the mythology and worldview without overwhelming them with names and unfamiliar terms, for those who are well versed in the lore it’s a very entertaining spin on the mythology. One can easily imagine a skald coming around the community a thousand years ago, with tales both familiar and new, all having his own special spin and perspective threaded throughout. Rossman’s work is truly inspired.

Five stars out of five.

Review ©2010 by Soli.
Edited by Sheta Kaey.

Kali Black
Megalithica Books (March 21, 2009)
ISBN: 978-1905713387
136 pages
Reviewer: Ian Vincent

 

This book is a spirited attempt to reclaim that most twisty and controversial of magical ideas, Black Magic — and is also a manual of what the author calls “Anarchashamanism.” The position taken could be broadly described as anti-capitalist, non-hierarchical (power-with rather than power-over), ecologically aware and rebellious without falling into the trap of simple knee-jerk opposition.

The three lines which preface the book sum up the author’s position nicely:

“Never sacrifice individuality for individualism.
Never sacrifice rebellion for contrariness.
Never sacrifice dignity for arrogance.”

The introduction gives a quick look at the history of the two key terms, Black Magic and Anarchism. I felt there was a touch of self-supporting bias to the history, especially in reference to the Satanism of the pre-revolutionary French Court (I don’t really think La Voisin was making “calculated protests” against the church, for example), but the author does freely admit that both black magic and anarchism lack a true unbroken tradition (and indeed says the same for all modern magic “trads,” which is refreshing).

Black’s angle on black magic (heh) is summed up well in this quote — after referencing the Voudon-inspired slave rebellion in Haiti, Black writes:

“This spirit of rebellion, freedom, independence and self-reliance is the very spirit of black magic. Times have changed, and the dominant religion is now capitalism.”

I think Black makes a better fist of explaining the difference between actual anarchism and the distorted public image of same than they do in trying to reclaim Black Magic — a key quote here describes anarchism as “the absence of rulers rather than the absence of order,” which is an important distinction most people outside of anarchist thought rarely consider.

I especially liked this line: “Maintaining a ‘spiritual’ dimension to one’s life in a critical and flexible manner provides an excellent defence against religion and ideology, whereas dogma of any kind does not.” Take that, Dawkins!

After the introduction, the book is in two parts. The first, “Guerrilla Warfare,” covers a set of basic techniques and observations. The second, “Guerrilla Mind Theatre,” covers more advanced exercises and goes deeper into Black’s model of Anarchashamanism.

The exercises given all emphasise personal, flexible, paradigm-shifting and idiosyncratic approaches and are applicable to all levels of practitioner. I did like seeing some of the less common ones, such as “make knots with intent.” I was also very glad to see the exercise “attend a variety of different religious services over an extended period,” especially backed up with provisos given for avoiding cult recruitment.

I loved the phrase “controlled superstition” as a descriptor for the magical mindset, and Black’s version of the multi-model approach (though not using the term). Black also covers such possibly controversial areas as sex-magic and entheogen use with intelligence and care. Like much else in the book, I found some of the positions taken on “culture” a bit strident (e.g. having a whole chapter on how veganism is the only moral and correct diet for a true magician, or saying that early religious conditioning is “. . . a weakness of character that is easily overcome”), but the point of view given is understandable and well expressed.

Part 2 kicks off with my absolute favourite chapter in the book, “Ancient and Mystical Secrets of Toontra.” Toontra, introduced in a suitably daft and po-faced manner, is working with cartoons (starting with a ‘toon version of yourself) as a visualisation/ projection tool. It’s a great idea, nicely explained. The emphasis that “not taking yourself seriously is one of the most important skills a magician must master” is a fine way to harness that spirit of Discordian silliness so often missing from modern praxis. There is also a very good sidebar on importance of earthing oneself to remove pompousness etc.: “In my experience, few things can earth you quite as well as scrubbing the toilet.” How true!

Next, Black takes a couple of chapters to define Anarchashamanism, beginning with a robust defence of the shamanic calling. Anarchashamanism is then defined thus: “. . . the development and practice of an organic and uniquely personal spirituality and the adoption of a Shamanic relationship with a community without creaing or imposing a power structure or hierarchy. Tough call.”

Rather than being a separate specialist in a community which looks to the shaman for spiritual insight, “the anarchashaman despecialises,” guiding the other people to their own spiritual insight rather than doing it for them. A fine idea, well delineated.

Black also makes a good point on the class-related aspects of modern spiritual guidance: “In the Western hierarchy of sanity people in positions of wealth, authority or power may legitimately receive unearthly guidance, and poor or working class people just get a choice between being labelled crazy or superstitious.” The Anarchashaman endeavours to empower others rather than imposing their ideas of who or what they should be — a wise position when dealing with spiritual and personal development, and here given as an antidote to existing hierarchies of belief and control.

A program of exercises is given next to develop this working style. I found a few problems here.

The first exercise is “Kill your TV.” Although I understand the impulse to divorce oneself from the corporate conditioning which often goes hand-in-hand with TV as a medium (and, like the author, I’ve read such works as “Four Arguments for the Abolition of Television”), it seems odd to pick on TV — especially as the author is perfectly comfortable to use memes and archetypes from film and animation. . . and mostly, the very same corporations that make TV shows also make films and ‘toons.

I’m also unsure of the wisdom of renaming mojo-bags as “bombs” and leaving them in public places. . .

A version of “High” magic, suitably adapted to the authors anarchic take, is then explored in some depth. There is a strong emphasis on the importance of developing your own style of ritual, the acquiring of useful and accurate self-knowledge, etc.

For example, on the subject of banishings, Black recognises their use, makes note of their hierarchical aspects, observes the artificiality of dividing the “mundane” from the “magical” world (I agree entirely here), says they don’t personally use ‘em — but goes on to suggest that their use is to be decided by the individual, and then gives pretty good instructions for performing them if you should choose to do so.

At this point in the book the Black Magic elements are brought forward to a greater degree. Ritual is mostly described as being used for worship of Luciferian entities — ranging from classical Satanic forms to fictional villains/ antiheroes such as Riddick or the Alien Queen — and the summoning of demons.

If you’re going to do this . . . well, the advice given is lucid and useful (i.e. if you make a deal with a demon, be very careful with the small print) and it does cover the model where such entities are manifestations of one’s own self. It doesn’t have too much that’ll help you if the demons turn out to be actual independent entities (in terms of protection and banishing). This is, to put it, mildly a controversial area — so caveat emptor.

The last couple of chapters explore the nature of sacrifice, creation of initiation rites and ritual tools. As previously, these are discussed with intelligence and knowledge. I would have liked some kind of conclusion to be drawn at the end, tying the Anarchashamanic and black magic perspectives together further, but it’s not a crippling loss.

Overall, I think the take on black magic as such is a little too forgiving of the less friendly elements of the practice. Also, I don’t really think the book quite manages to reclaim “Black Magic” as a term (or actually spend all that much time trying to do so) — but Black does repurpose the phrase for their own use effectively.

The more strident and preachy passages are understandable in the context of the author and, if you agree with their position, they will no doubt inspire. If you’re critical of any absolutist position . . . less so. But there’s nothing wrong with taking a stance.

Conspicuous by their absence in a book about rebellious counter-hierarchical magic are any mentions whatsoever about self-defence, shielding, counterspells — any combat magic techniques at all. Not even the oft-suggested, “go and learn a martial art” hint, or even suggestions of how to combine magical approaches with other direct action. The assumption that one can oppose something using magic, but that your opponents would not use magic too, is a little naive — and odd considering the militaristic models used in first half. After all, in a sense this is a book of Tradecraft for magicians — which in the context of rebellion against the militarised, monopoly-of-violence state structures is apt, but does perhaps lead to a merely oppositional position (though the book to its credit often emphasises mere dualistic tussles aren’t the solution). I would have liked to see more, shall we say, practical applications given.

But for the most part, these are minor quibbles about a book which I found interesting, useful and entertaining to read.

4 stars out of 5 — one point given for Toontra alone!

Review ©2009 by Ian Vincent.
Edited by Sheta Kaey.

J. Daniel Gunther
Ibis Press (January 1, 2009)
ISBN: 978-0892541454
224 pages
Reviewer: Shawn Gray

 

This is truly one of the most informative new esoteric books that I’ve read in quite a while. When I heard that a new book had come out that was immediately put on the required reading list for students of the A∴A∴, I wasted no time in borrowing it from a friend. After reading it through, I wasted no time in getting myself a copy as well. Gunther’s 30-plus years of A∴A∴ experience comes shining through in this work explaining the new formula of initiation in the Aeon of Thelema and the how this applies to the methods of magick and mysticism as taught in the A∴A∴.

Gunther is not new to the field of publication, although this work will likely be the one that he becomes best known for. He serves on the editorial board of The Equinox (published by Weiser) and has also acted as consultant and adviser for other publications on the subject of occultism. This combination of both publication experience and practical knowledge in the magick of the A∴A∴ makes Gunther eminently qualified to write a book on this subject, as indicated by both Hymenaeus Beta, head of Ordo Templi Orientis, and James Wasserman, well known occult author and practitioner, in their comments on the jacket and in the introduction.

The author’s aim in writing this book is to shed light on the change brought to initiatic formulas with the advent of the New Aeon of Thelema, and how these changes affect aspirants in their practices and outlooks on life. One way in which he does this is to compare and contrast the new initiatic formula with the old motif of the Dying God with its “corrupt model of Purification Through Suffering.” This is certainly not the first time that this comparison has been made in a literary work, but the depth and knowledge that Gunther brings to the discussion makes this book a fascinating read. Rather than simply quickly and shallowly describing the Egyptian background to the Thelemic understanding of the Aeons of Isis, Osiris and Horus, as has been done many times before, Gunther brings well documented Egyptology to the table. His use of academic references provides the discussion with a solid grounding in sound scholarship, and his explanation of the detail of Egyptian hieroglyphs is one that I found fascinating.

The Egyptian angle is not the only one that the author uses to support his discussion. He also makes use of the psychological work of Jung and Neumann in discussing the role of images and archetypes in formulating our understanding of the initiatic formulas. With the weight of these scholarly sources lending stability to the academic foundation of his work, Gunther makes use of key texts of Thelemic mysticism (The Vision and the Voice, Liber LXV, etc.) to explain the unique perspective on the process of initiation encountered in Thelemic systems — both O.T.O. and A∴A∴. While the author explicitly states that he is not a member of the O.T.O., he certainly has a deep understanding of the Thelemic initiatory process in both systems (and offers an enlightening discussion on the differences between the two in a recent interview on the Thelema Now! Podcast).

Despite all of the scholarly references, the footnotes, and the impressive bibliography (which can be intimidating to some), Gunther’s book is not a difficult read. At only 191 pages (excluding the excellent glossary and appendices), it is not overly lengthy. On the contrary, one wonders just how it is that the author packs so much “advanced” information into such a short work and still manages to make it so readable and comprehensible. It’s like Aleister Crowley meets Lon Milo DuQuette. In fact I must concur with Wasserman, who on the back of the jacket states that in his opinion, this book is “the most important original work to be published since the death of Aleister Crowley.” Hymenaeus Beta even goes so far as to state that this book deserves a place in the curriculum of the O.T.O., showing what kind of reception this book is getting in the Thelemic community in general.

The originality of this work is one of its strongest points. It does deal with some material that has been covered before on a cursory level in other books, but the depth that he brings to the discussion of the theme of Thelemic initiation, and the degree to which he elaborates on themes that many people may only have a passing grasp of, make it a valuable and educational read. I cannot recommend this book highly enough to those interested in Thelema — its mysticism, cosmology, and system of initiation.

©2009 by Shawn Gray.
Edited by Sheta Kaey.

Note: This is my last column for the Occult Author Spotlight. While there are many other authors to discuss and I hope someone will take over and write about those authors, the demands of several of my own ventures as well as some changes in my spiritual life prohibit me from continuing.

I was first introduced to Bill Whitcomb’s work when a friend bought me The Magician’s Companion for my birthday one year. I immediately saw the usefulness of this book as a compendium of information about various magical systems, symbols, archetypes and other information that could prove useful if you needed to quickly get information on a particular subject within occultism. I’ve used it on a few different occasions to improve the efficacy of my works, and it remains a book I consult on a regular basis. The book looks at both western and eastern systems of magic and discusses succinctly the elements of those systems, while also providing reading lists for people who would like to go more in depth with the materials. Another added benefit is that Whitcomb lists the systems by their use of numbers, so you’ll see a few systems with the number seven. Reading through the entire book can be quite novel and useful.

I met Bill shortly after I moved to Portland and became good friends with him. During that process, I learned about his second book The Magician’s Reflection, which had gone out of print some time ago and didn’t look like it would come back into print from the original publisher. With some wheedling on my part, he eventually got the rights back and decided to republish that book with Megalithica books.

The Magician’s Reflection is an instruction book in how to create your symbol system for magic, with an encyclopedia of possible choices you could make for that. Naturally you shouldn’t limit yourself to what is presented in the book, but the various examples that Whitcomb provides can provide useful inspiration as you develop your own system of magic. Whitcomb also includes the alphabet of dreams, a magical language with its own cipher, and an appendix about a system of time magic called Nar, written by a friend of his, which utilizes different patterns and colors to help a person manipulate possibilities in time. Both the alphabet of dreams and Nar provide some intriguing ideas about where a unique system of magic can be created and developed. The Magician’s Reflection provides you your own key for doing that as well.

Bill is currently working on the Dream Manual, which is a book with art and some phrases to be used for meditational purposes. If you go to his website you can learn more about this project. He and I are working on another book together, which is a best practices of magic book. It’s still very much in the rough draft phase, but will be available at some point in the near future.

Recommended Reading

• Whitcomb, Bill. (1993). The Magician’s Companion: A Practical and Encyclopedic Guide to Magical and Religious Symbolism. St. Paul: Llewellyn Publications.
• Whitcomb, Bill. (2008). The Magician’s Reflection. Stafford: Megalithica Books.

©2009 by Taylor Ellwood
Edited by Sheta Kaey

Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot. Over?
Collen A’Miketh
Megalithica Books (April 20, 2009)
ISBN: 978-1905713301
136 pages
Reviewer: Ian Vincent

 

When I read a book, especially a book about magic written by a practitioner, there’s always a need to let go of my own perspective a little. Everyone views the world in a unique way defined by their experiences, character and knowledge — and if I stay too stuck in my own point of view, it’s hard to fully grasp the perspective of the writer. (I strive to do this because I think I learn far more from people I don’t agree with than those I do — preaching to the choir doesn’t open any new doors.)

This was very much the case with this book. A’Miketh comes to magic from a background in computer programming, high ritual, and runic working — very different from my own entry point to the Art. His premise centers around bringing magic out of “The Tower” (personal, solo, ritual workings) and making it “Travelling Magic” (direct interaction with the outside world, working in non-ritual space).

The early parts of the book — which are a fairly clear recounting of his own techniques and mindset, aimed at an intermediate-level reader — were a mostly pleasant exercise. Some areas we seemed to have agreement on how various models of magic interact with reality but in the areas where we did not, I could see his point. The various exercises and techniques seem practical and relevant — though none of it was particularly earth-shattering or new.

There were a few areas where his writing style didn’t sit too well with me — a level of what felt very forced (and very America-specific) humour, for example. But nonetheless an agreeable, though hardly ground-breaking, read on the subject.

One area I especially noted was that he continually emphasised what he considered to be the most important traits for a magician to possess — intelligence, flexibility and humility. Especially humility — even taking time to address the problem of arrogance among magicians. “Can’t argue with that,” I thought.

Then, in the last couple of chapters, it all came crashing down. My ability to stay at a remove from my perspective rather than that of the writer ceased utterly. My opinion shifted rapidly from somewhat favourable to one of — and I do not use the phrase often or lightly — moral disgust.

In the the last two chapters, A’Miketh mentions a technique he calls “People Sigil Magic.” Here is his description of it:

“. . . PSM is used like ordinary sigil magic except we transmit our Will to another person in such a way that they accept it with little or no argument.”

He also says,

“If we can get information about our Will to them, without giving them a chance to object, then we’ve effectively ‘inserted the sigil.’”

He later describes his use of this technique to, essentially, edit the personalities of his friends to better suit his idea of them, to “fix” whatever “problems” he perceives them to have:

“. . . I just actively imagine the person that certain way when I am around them and refuse to accept their version of Reality . . . Healthy, not an alcoholic, losing lots of weight . . . whatever it is that seems to be something they are struggling with.”

This is how A’Miketh appears to define “humility” — as having the right to use magic to edit the minds and souls of his friends without their consent, for what he sees as their own good. Treating his kith and kin as faulty programmes to be debugged.

What awful arrogance. The sheer presumption of it.

I can understand the desire to help your friends deal with their issues, certainly. But the point is, they’re their issues. Aside from the truly vile attitude that his version of who they should be matters more than their own, he is also robbing them of the chance to fix themselves and become stronger through the struggle to do so. Denying them their own Path.

I must note, in fairness, that the one detailed example he provides did include the target in discussion about “the possibility of doing some spell work” for him. I also note that he says,

“. . . there are limited circumstances where my ethical sense of right and wrong permits me to influence people. They are not just any Joe Schmoe, they are my friends.”

But he still does it. To his friends. Mostly without their knowledge or consent. To make them fit his idea of who they should be.

Back when I was a professional exorcist, my team and I had a technical term for a spell cast without consent to forcibly influence the mind of another. That word is “curse.”

If people ask for help, or are a clear and present danger to themselves or others, then working magic for or on them is acceptable, even laudable. To do so against their will, in fact concealing that magic is being performed on them, is no more acceptable than slipping Rohypnol into a woman’s drink because you think she should fuck you.

At best, this book is the output of a naive hypocrite who preaches humility and lack of arrogance but is unable to practice it. At best.

In all conscience I cannot recommend it to anyone except as an object lesson in how not to practice magic with conscience and respect for others.

Short version:
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?
Over.

Zero out of five stars.

Review ©2009 Ian Vincent
Edited by Sheta Kaey

Pop Culture Magick
Taylor Ellwood
Megalithica Books; 2^nd edition (August 14, 2008)
ISBN: 978-1905713127
144 pages
Reviewer: RainSingingWolf

 

When I first heard that somebody was seriously considering writing a book on media magick (specifically pop culture), I was both thrilled and terrified. As a longtime lurker on many boards, I have encountered so many terrible ideas using new media that I was doubtful when opening this book.

With this one book, my impression of pop culture magick has completely changed. I commend Ellwood for identifying the importance of previous (and current) belief systems, rather than simply disregarding them, as so many authors are prone to do. The first few chapters of this book are devoted to what exactly “pop culture” is, why it is important in our lives, and how powerful it can be. The idea that simply exposing people to something can give it power isn’t a new idea; however, Ellwood emphasizes exactly how important this factor is in one’s life from commercials (merchandise identification) to news (celebrities). With such a wellspring of options and power available in every day situations, it seems that using pop culture is an obvious choice for creating magick.

Ellwood emphasizes the importance of keeping one’s magick current to one’s living situation and personality. Finding a story or character that one identifies with can completely change the enthusiasm for magick; thus, a more powerful magick is made available to the magician. This concept is no different than when a magician may go searching in older religions for a god/dess that matches his or her needs.

According to Ellwood, a plethora of media is available for a creative magician to use. This includes: comics, cartoons, anime, books, movies, video games, card games, and even commercials! And why not? Many people follow characters or celebrities so closely that they know them better than family, friends, or even themselves; additionally, many books or movies provide clear rules and structure for their worlds that could easily be adapted for one’s own rituals. He generously shares examples from his own attempts and successes at using pop culture, as well as those of fellow magicians. If a reader is feeling up to the challenge, exercises are provided at the end of each chapter that can easily be used just as they are or adapted for one’s own ideas.

Like a responsible mentor, Ellwood not only emphasizes the positive in using these new techniques, but also reminds the reader of the risks associated with the practice. Just like every day people, characters from many sources have positive strengths that are just as strong as their flaws. While working with entities one may get the benefit of better strategy; however, that same character may have a splash of arrogance that can easily rub off on the magician.

Another useful thing Ellwood offers the reader is appendices with the various media he references throughout the text, as well as further explanations on some of the techniques he mentions. He also provides a bibliography of the texts he references, which could be useful to the reader.

The only problems I had with this book are completely technical. The font appeared small to me, and I’m not sure whether or not this has to do with the particular font or the actual font size. Also, while I understand the use of “hir” is a generous attempt at being gender-conscious, I find it’s usage to be hideous, especially in a book.

Using pop culture for one’s practices is certainly not a new idea, but many people are afraid of moving beyond the safe boundaries of known magical techniques. Ellwood invites readers to join him and others in, at the very least, giving these new techniques a chance. While the book is small, it provides a variety of examples to open the mind of the reader to the possibilities. Whether one is just curious about pop culture magick or seriously considering using it, I recommend this book.

4 and a half stars out of 5.

Review ©2009 RainSingingWolf
Edited by Sheta Kaey

Modern Magick: Eleven Lessons in the High Magickal Arts
Donald Michael Kraig
Llewellyn Publications (1988)
ISBN: 978-0875423241
600 pages
Reviewer: Sheta Kaey

 

As this book is typically the first book recommended to anyone interested in learning ceremonial or ritual magick, I thought a review here was appropriate, if only for the purpose of having it in our archives. As a primer in high magick, Modern Magick is not bad. It has its faults, however.

Mr. Kraig sets up the book as a series of lessons (hence the subtitle) meant to take the budding ritualist from complete novice to someone with a clue within twelve months. It can do it if one is prepared to stay focused, but not many people do. The book is designed to teach largely via negative consequences, and since so many novices are already uncertain, this can drive them to abandoning their studies almost as soon as they’ve begun. However, the student won’t discover the negative consequences unless he or she is smart enough to uncover his or her mistakes via crosschecking with other sources. Most, therefore, may continue along blithely unaware of how foolish they are to place their trust in Mr. Kraig or to assume his honesty.

Mr. Kraig takes the student (you, for the course of this review) through basic lessons in learning to control the four elements, not in the ways you might think (i.e., you don’t learn to summon storms), but in terms of energy and its effects on you. He also teaches the methods for creating the ritual tools for each element, as well as additional tools that comprise the standard ritual altar. The early sections of the book also teach the basic rituals that not only are the standard beginnings in any course of ceremonial magick, but which also serve you as needed for the rest of your life. The most important of these is typically agreed to be the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram.

A word of caution, however, and here’s where we look at that presumed honesty: Take nothing for granted in Mr. Kraig’s book. Nothing. Or, so help me, you’ll be heartbroken when you discover that all the energy, work, and pure heart you applied to his instructions has been wasted due to the blinds he quite deliberately puts in his instructions. Double check everything against other sources before you spend time, energy, or money for things he instructs you to do. Blinds, or deliberately placed errors and code words designed to trip you up and make you learn the hard way, are everywhere in ceremonial magick works, and Mr. Kraig’s use of them could therefore be viewed as a blessing — learn early, so that it’s ingrained in you to check your sources, check your definitions, read between the lines, assume nothing. It’s good advice, and it’s a hard lesson to learn that a tool you’ve made with your whole heart is useless because it’s been inscribed with the wrong symbols, and so on. But in spite of its pragmatism, it sticks in my craw that a modern writer — in an age when oaths are rarely taken and even more rarely kept — would take advantage of the trust of someone who gave him money to learn from him. I’m in the minority, though, I think. Various ceremonial friends of mine hate it when I give away the blinds, so I’m not going to tell you where they are, but there are several and they start early on.

Aside from that most irritating and admittedly effective technique, which is used early and often in this book, Mr. Kraig provides a solid foundation in the basics of ritual arts. The book is recommended to novices, with the single caveat that they take care in validating the information at hand, especially when they might find more convenient to just take Kraig’s word for it. He makes clever use of his misinformation, adding it where it might seem unlikely and keeping it real where he might be assumed to set traps. Keep a sharp eye, and learn the lesson well — but hopefully without too much pain in the end.

Four stars out of five.

Review ©2009 Sheta Kaey

The Balance of the Two Lands: Writings on Greco-Egyptian Polytheism
H. Jeremiah Lewis
Bibliotheca Alexandrina; CreateSpace (June 3, 2009)
ISBN: 978-1442190337
372 pages
Reviewer: Lupa

 

Heh — the review I wrote about just before this one, incidentally, was about the blending of multiple religions! Go figure. However, whereas ChristoPaganism was about modern mixing of neopaganism and Christianity, The Balance of the Two Lands is a different critter indeed! It would seem that among some (not all!) reconstructionists and other highly scholarly pagans, there’s a deep bias against mixing traditions — if you’re a Celtic reconstructionist who happens to get a calling from one of the Lwa of Vodou and answer it, then you can’t really be a Celtic reconstructionist any more according to some folks. Worse yet, you might be considered — an eclectic! Horror of horrors!

Yet eclecticism is a very different concept from syncreticism, which is what this particular book deals with. Syncreticism is a much more deliberate and researched effort than the buffet-style picking and choosing of eclecticism (which can still work quite well for some people in its own right, for the record). Lewis (aka Sannion), over a period of years, found himself courted both by the Greek and Egyptian pantheons and their respective traditions, and spent time in each religious community independently — with each telling him that he couldn’t go to the other and still be genuine. But he found a definite precedent for Greco-Egyptian syncreticism, most famously in the Ptolemies of Egypt — and this book is the result of years of research and practice to that effect.

There’s not a whole lot about modern Greco-Egyptian polytheistic syncreticism out there, and much of what does exist has been written by Lewis himself, as well as other folks, particularly through Neos Alexandrina. If you want a good dead-tree textbook to have on hand both for theory and ideas to formulate practice, this is a great option. Lewis’ essays run the gamut from hard research about the original syncretic practices, to what it is that modern Greco-Egyptian syncretists can do in daily practice.

As with the other Bibliotheca Alexandrina texts I’ve reviewed (and you’ll find all of the current titles on my review blog except for Unbound and Echoes of Alexandria), I found this to be a breath of fresh air when it comes to the research. So many pagan texts today are based on half-assed “scholarship”; Lewis has most thoroughly done his homework, both in finding information and in interpreting it in a practical manner. You don’t need to worry about squishy-soft polytheism or claims of ancient Greco-Egyptian UFOs here. Bibliotheca Alexandrina, as a publisher, has represented itself well with its high standards of research, and this book is no exception.

In short, if you want to study and/or practice Greco-Egyptian syncretic polytheism in the 21^st century, this will be an invaluable text to you. Highly recommended.

Five pawprints out of five.

Review ©2009 by Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

ChristoPaganism: An Inclusive Path
Joyce and River Higginbotham
Llewellyn Publications (February 1, 2009)
ISBN: 978-0738714677
336 pages
Reviewer: Lupa

 

Hoo, boy. This book is bound to stir up controversy. There are plenty of pagans who seem to have no qualms with drawing inspiration and practices from other religions — pretty much all of them, except for Christianity. You have Jewish witches, and those who draw on indigenous religions (despite the protests of some indigenous practitioners!) Yet try mixing Christianity and paganism, and you get all sorts of complaints from those who say it can’t be done (no doubt many of which are speaking from a history of bad experiences with Christianity — or at least Christians).

However, for those whose experiences in such blending do undeniably work, or for those who wish to give it a try, this is an invaluable text. The authors have a strong understanding of the theological concepts that go into blending such a seemingly difficult interfaith blending, and make a good case for it. They start out by giving good foundational explanations of neopaganism and Christianity. Some may balk at the “unconventional” approach to Christianity they present, which challenges a lot of assumptions that casual Christians may have, and goes back to a variety of historical research that shows a very different origin and growth of the religion than is popularly understood. (No, I’m not talking about the various grail mythos thingies that talk about Jesus and Mary Magdelene in Europe — it’s much better scholarship than that.)

In making the case for interfaith blending, they draw on a variety of contemporary sources, not the least of which are the writings of Ken Wilber as well as spiral dynamics. I will admit that I thought that occasionally the general message of a broader perspective being more evolved read like it translated into interfaith = more evolved, but a closer reading without this kneejerk reaction gave me a better sense of what the authors were trying to say — that a more evolved perspective allows for the existence of, but doesn’t necessarily include personally, such things. This sounds controversial, but this is a controversial book to begin with, so in for a penny, in for a pound!

There’s also a nicely substantial section of personal testimonies from folks who have done various combinations of Christianity and neopaganism. This may be really helpful to those who feel alone in their path, as well as give ideas on how-tos without dealing with dogma.

Ultimately, many people are going to come to this book with their biases intact whether I advise them to or not; needless to say, I still recommend approaching it with as open a mind as possible. Of all the ways this combination of faiths could have been presented, this is probably one of the sanest and best thought out. While it’s not my personal path, for anyone who has been wanting resources on the topic of mixing Christian and neopagan religious beliefs and practices, this is a great text to have on hand.

Five pawprints out of five.

Review ©2009 by Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

Seeing in the Dark: Claim Your Own Shamanic Power Now and in the Coming Age
Colleen Deatsman and Paul Bowersox
Weiser Books (May 1, 2009)
ISBN: 978-1578634439
224 pages
Reviewer: Lupa

 

I think I’m reaching the point with (core) Shamanism 101 books that I hit with Totemism 101 books a few years ago — I’m getting tired of them, and want to see something besides rehashes of the same stuff. I had really hoped, when I read the first few pages of Seeing in the Dark, that it would be something different: the authors spoke of the many ecological and social injustices that we face today, and hinted that shamanism could be a tool for counteracting these destructive forces. Instead, what I got was the usual core Shamanism 101 material: journeying without risk, lots of nice helper spirits, medicine wheels, and healing techniques. While these things certainly can be used in making the world a better place, the emphasis was mainly on self-help and other core shamanism standards.

Mind you, it’s good core Shamanism 101 material. The book is a pretty complete guide to the basics. Granted, it’s the same thing you’ll find in any of a number of other core shamanism books, albeit with the authors’ own unique way of describing it and the reasons behind it, but this would make a good beginner’s book with a lot of material. And the authors have a keen sense of the human psyche and how to use shamanic techniques to heal it — again, standard core shamanism fare, but they present it in a nicely written fashion, backed up with a decent assortment of practices.

The material sometimes contradicts itself. For example, when talking about helping spirits, on p. 101 the authors quote another writer who essentially says that if you meet a hostile spirit, it always means there’s something wrong with you and your approach that you’re projecting. But then on pages 113-116, the authors’ own material describes spirits that are hostile in and of themselves, particularly those that are reluctant to or incapable of passing over to the next life. On page 10, they say that modern shamanism isn’t about taking things from other cultures, and then on page 132 openly encourage people to borrow freely from other cultures with no caveats. The authors decry the “I” culture of the modern United States, and then describe a form of shamanism that is mainly about the individual shaman getting things from the spirits — teachings and gifts — with almost nothing about giving back to the spirits, making offerings to them, or seeing what it is they need.

I won’t get into my standard disagreements with core shamanism. What I will say is that, contradictions aside, this is a good intro to core shamanism. It didn’t knock my socks off, as it were, but I’m also hard to impress. If you want the basics, and this title’s convenient to you, pick it up. Just be aware that there’s not much to differentiate it from any of a number of other similar titles.

Three and a half pawprints out of five.

Review ©2009 by Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

Egyptian Revenge Spells
Claudia R. Dillaire
Crossing Press (June 23, 2009)
ISBN: 978-1580911900
192 pages
Reviewer: Lupa

 

It’s no secret that the original pagans were no stranger to curses. From tribal shamans to priests to everyday people utilizing folk magic, part of most magic-workers’ arsenal was curses and other maleficio. The Egyptians weren’t an exception to this, and contemporary examples of magic that would make white lighters’ toes curl can still be found today. Of course, “black magic” being antithetical to the Wiccan Rede and many other neopagan ethical guidelines (or, at least many neopagans’ interpretations of said ethical guidelines), curses can sometimes be a subject that gets skirted around — or subjected to flame wars.

Kudos, then, to Claudia Dillaire, for writing a book on something new for a change! In this case, it’s revenge that’s the topic of the day, whether dealing with a jilted lover (including those with stalker-like tendencies), ruining someone financially, or simply messing with someone who has already messed with you. There are dozens of incantations, spells and rituals for multiple uses — and while some of them are most definitely for revenge, there are also some for more benign forms of protection, reflection spells, etc.

This isn’t a book of old Egyptian spells, but is instead a collection of modern Wicca-flavored spellcraft with some Egyptian influence. There’s a decidedly Wiccan feel to them, with the common inclusion of candles, crystals, common “witchy” herbs, and incense, and the fairly standard spoken portions. While they do incorporate calling on Egyptian deities, in some ways this could be any of a number of spell books.

I’m not entirely sure how the author interprets Egyptian neopaganism in the first few chapters, where she’s establishing some context for the spells. Sometimes it seems like she’s comparing “Egyptian magic” to Wicca (in particular, as opposed to general neopaganism); other times, it’s as though she’s trying to differentiate between them. Given that the spells themselves are pretty heavily Wicca (or at least witchcraft) flavored, I would have hoped she’d be a little clearer about how much Wicca and witchcraft influenced the unique brand of Egyptian magic she compiled from research and practice. In fact, if there’s anything seriously missing here, it’s a better explanation of where, exactly, she’s coming from. I was left a little unsure as to where the connection is between ancient Egyptian religious practices that spanned several millennia, and her personal practices today.

I’m also not a Kemetic pagan, and Egyptian religion and culture aren’t things I know a whole lot about, so I can’t speak too much to the quality of research. There was nothing glaringly wrong, and the bibliography had a mix of scholarly and practical source material. I could have hoped for in-text or other citations, especially for the historical information, but it’s a bit late for that now!

If you’re looking for some inspiration to unleash some wicked magic — or at least vent some frustration creatively — this is a good book. Don’t pick it up as an example of historically-based Kemetic paganism, however; it’s rather too eclectic for that. It’s a unique creation of the author, and gripes aside, I think it’s a nice change from the usual strict adherence to “Harm none.”

Four pawprints out of five.

Review ©2009 by Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

Real Alchemy: A Primer of Practical Alchemy
Robert Allen Bartlett
Ibis; 3rd edition (May 1, 2009)
ISBN: 978-0892541508
224 pages
Reviewer: Lupa

 

Most of the books you’re going to find on alchemy these days talk history, metaphor, or other theoretical concepts. This is one of the very few that goes into the actual practice of alchemy, step by step. Originally self-published by Bartlett, it’s now available more widely through Ibis, part of Weiser. You’ll have to look twice to tell the difference, though, at least at first glance, since the cover (which I happen to like) is the same. I haven’t read the first edition, so I can’t speak to the differences between the two, just so you know.

I’m not particularly well-versed in alchemy; it’s one of those topics that I think is interesting, but I haven’t had a chance to real sink my teeth into. So as an almost complete novice, I set up the challenge that the book was going to have to give me at least a basic understanding of the practice of alchemy. Thankfully, it delivered! From the brief historical treatment, to the explanation of what all that talk about sulfur, salt and mercury is about, I was able to get the jist of the very basics. However, the book doesn’t stop there!
Beyond the basic theoretical concepts, Bartlett goes into detail discussing what you actually do with all the arcane terminology and the processes they describe. Want to create a tincture or elixir? The directions are here. The author does make it clear that this should not be your only text on alchemy, but the instructables in this one should make it invaluable.

There are some interesting crossovers between alchemy and other disciplines. Astrology and qabalah are the two most notable examples of this, and those who are interested in either of these disciplines may well want to pick up this text for the relevant material. Additionally, as the book does give a basis in alchemy, astrologers and qabalists who were previously unfamiliar with the main topic should have little trouble finding context.

Overall, I found this to be a good way to give myself enough of an understanding of classic alchemy, particularly European, to get what the fuss is all about. Thorough understanding does require actually utilizing the practices, so armchair magicians and the merely curious will no doubt miss out on a lot. But it’s clear even from my novice perspective that this is an essential text.

Five pawprints out of five.

Review ©2009 by Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

Afterlife
Guy Smith
G3 Media (May 12, 2009)
ISBN: 978-1439237434
114 pages
Reviewer: Lupa

 

I think I just found one of the best works of fiction I’ve been sent since I started my review blog — and I’ve reviewed everything from self-published works to mass-marketed offerings from major publishing houses. In just over 100 pages, Guy Smith managed to captivate me with a story that grabbed me more firmly than most of the novels I’ve read — and that takes talent.

What happens when you die? In Afterlife, you either go to the Light, or you hang around here if you have a compelling enough reason. The story follows one soul who had that reason, and through his eyes I got to find out the intricacies of the afterlife imagined by Smith. The nature and experience of being a ghost, the limitations being dead gives you in this world, and even pondering what the true nature of the Light in this fictional Universe is, are all explored in the context of a fast-paced, gripping plotline. Make no mistake — it’s a highly streamlined book, and every word counts for a lot. I read it in less than an hour, but it was definitely time well spent.

I think where the author has his greatest strength is in the running commentary that his first-person protagonist offers. Dialogue in general can be really tough to make believable, but Smith hits it dead on, if you’ll forgive the pun. Not only was I emotionally engaged in the travails and experiences of a snarky dead guy, but the ending just wrenched the hell out of my heart. This writer’s good at what he does, let me tell you. (Though I’ll admit I got a little green around the gills when he described the effects of a car wreck in detail!)

If you want a brief break in your day to day routine to have a good read, or if you want something to really make you appreciate being alive, or you simply appreciate a well-written piece of fiction, then I would strongly recommend Afterlife. It has a lot going for it on multiple levels of awesome.

Five pawprints out of five.

Review ©2009 by Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

I had originally intended to write a review for Donald Tyson’s Necronomicon Tarot, to be published alongside Lon Sarver’s review in this issue. As I read Lon’s perspective and reflected on my relationship with Don — who’s been a close friend of mine for nearly a decade — I realized that my bias was firmly in the way of composing an objective review.

I’d been confronted with the issue of bias once before, when I’d considered reviewing an anthology by Taylor Ellwood, a colleague of mine at Immanion Press. Such a dilemma was a new experience for me. I bowed out of reviewing that book, and never gave the matter much further thought. Now that it’s happened again, I have to consider that reviewing the works of anyone who has previously contributed to this magazine (or whom I already know) is a conflict of interest. For this reason, I won’t be reviewing any of Tyson’s works, now or in the future. I apologize to anyone who may have been expecting one, and direct you to Lon’s review instead. He did a good job.

— Sheta Kaey

From the Editor will be a semi-regular column by Sheta Kaey, concerning issues confronting Rending the Veil, its management, and its future. Sheta is Editor in Chief of Rending the Veil and is working on her first book.

©2009 Sheta Kaey

Ancestral Airs
Verda Smedley
Dim Light Books; 1^st edition (2008)
ISBN: 978-1934703304
700 pages
Reviewer: Lupa

 

As I was reading this book, I was trying to figure out where to fit it into the categories on my blog. On the one hand, it’s purportedly a reconstruction of a culture 6,000 years old; this includes extensive research into botany, mythology, history and other scholarly studies. But, when you get right down to it, it’s also a fascinating set of stories with well-developed characters, settings, and plots.

Beyond a certain point, we can really know only so much about cultures prior to written history in a region. The stories supposedly tell about the people who lived in the British Isles 6,000 years ago, well before there were any written records; while the author draws from texts about the Celts and other older cultures, these are still newer peoples than what Smedley describes. Whether the people of 4000 BC lived in ways the book described is unknown; nonetheless, the author does a lovely job of weaving together a solid description of her thoughts on the matter, and we get a good picture of what it is they did and believed.

So I chose to primarily read this for its storytelling value. Similarly to my experience of reading MZB’s The Mists of Avalon, it didn’t matter whether the story was literally true or not. I found myself sinking into a world where animism was the central belief, where the plants, animals and other denizens of nature were so important to the people that they took their names from them. I read about the rituals these people performed, as well as the participants’ feelings about them. I witnessed the interactions between individual groups of people, and how they wove into the greater overarching culture of the time. It didn’t really matter whether this was the way things “really happened”; it was a great journey anyway. Even if seen only as a novel, it’s a worthwhile read.

I can’t entirely vouch for the validity of the herbal information; the author knows more about that than I do. A lot of the information about plants peppering the stories dealt with magical uses; however, there were some medicinal uses mentioned as well. For those intrepid enough to backtrack the author’s research, there’s an appendix with the common and Latin names of all the plants (numbering in the hundreds) mentioned. Additionally, she included a thorough bibliography for further research and fact-checking.

This is a book I had to read in bits and chunks over time; at 700 pages, it’s a lot to read! The formatting left a bit to be desired, most notably the complete lack of page numbers which, in a book this length, is frustrating when trying to find where I left off, or where I found a piece of information or a snippet of story I wanted to go back to. Also, I can’t for the life of me find information about the publisher, the owner of the publishing company, or the author.

Ancestral Airs is a thoroughly enjoyable read, regardless of how much salt you choose to take the research with. Whether you choose to read it as I did, in little pieces, or simply spend several hours going from cover to cover in one fell swoop, I hope you like this unique combination of research and narrative.

Four and a half pawprints out of five.

Review ©2009 Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

Dancing God: Poetry Of Myths And Magicks
Diotima
Version available:
CreateSpace (May 6, 2008)
ISBN: 978-1438210643
206 pages
Reviewer: Lupa

 

Poetry usually isn’t my preferred reading material, but every so often I find a book of it that I truly enjoy. Dancing God is the second volume of poetry that’s caught my attention in such a way, the first being The Phillupic Hymns by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus. In this particular text, I was treated to a lovely variety of verses, some of which are strongly flavored by mythology — but all of which speak to the human condition.

Diotima’s verses are generally not long, but instead are bite-sized descriptions of her interaction with the world, divine and mortal alike. There are four themes, each with its own section: Gods, Myths and Sagas; Love; Life; and Death. Diotima has done a lovely job of sorting her works into these categories, but the variety she displays demonstrates an understanding of multiple perspectives on each theme.

The poems in the Gods, Myths and Sagas section may be of particular interest to pagan readers. Her works encompass several mythologies, from Greek to Celtic to Japanese; primarily, though not exclusively, they are snippets of story or honor (or both!) offered to a particular deity. Some are rooted in the deities’ contemporary cultures, such as a rather macabre description of Dionysus’ darker aspects, a retelling of Fenris’ chaining, and a poem to Hekate as “lady of the hounds.” Others, such as Icarus’ musing on human’s common flight in airplanes, a poem comparing the original manifestation of angels to their modern “cute” depictions, and wondering “Do the old gods walk the streets of London?” are more modern commentary. They all weave together well, and demonstrate that the gods are not, in fact, dead at all. These would all make lovely incorporated into private rituals and meditations.

All of the poems, however, are exquisitely crafted. Both the kind and the painful sides of love are evoked. (I was particularly fond of “Communication”, with its recurring line “Damn you, pick up the phone!”) “Life” is a short section full of little slices thereof, commentary on the day to day (and yet how unusual it can be from this angle!). The theme of death is dealt with using everything from grief to black humor, a good catharsis for working through loss.

Having been assaulted with bad verse and worse attempts, Dancing God is a reminder that we still have muse-touched poets today, those who create beauty through carefully structured words. There’s magic in these pages, and Diotima is an accomplished magician when it comes to evoking the feelings she wishes to convey.

Five pawprints out of five.

Review ©2009 Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

The Hawaiian Oracle: Animal Spirit Guides from the Land of Light
Rima A. Morrell; art by Steve Rawlings
New World Library (April 13, 2006)
ISBN: 978-1577315261
144 pages plus 36 cards
Reviewer: Lupa

It’s been a while since I’ve reviewed a totem deck/book set. I’ve had this one sitting in my personal collection for a while, and figured it was about time to take a break from my review stacks. I also wanted to give myself a fresh look at it, because someone I respect as a totemist gave it a pretty scathing review last year, and I didn’t want that biasing my approach.
There’s good and bad in the set, so I’ll give you some details in list form:

The Good:

• The author emphasizes interconnection and responsibility to nature in the book. There are some valuable lessons for postindustrial cultures that often take the environment and its denizens (includes humans!) for granted. It’s obvious that she’s passionate about being a caretaker, and while she doesn’t include it quite to the extent that, say, Susie Green does in the Animal Messages deck, it was a nice touch. (In addition, she walks the talk, having set up a charity and refuge for rescued animals of various sorts, for which I give her major kudos.)
• Morrell has a Ph.D. in Huna, a New Age mix of Hawaiian mythology and other elements. She’s pretty familiar with Hawaiian mythos, and includes mythological information on each of the animals along with her interpretations, to flesh out the meanings and give people more to ponder when working with each animal.
• The cards themselves feature some of the most beautiful artwork by Steve Rawlings (who sadly only gets mentioned on the copyright page and the acknowledgment in the back of the book, instead of on the cover of the book or box). A lovely blend of realistic depictions of animals and brightly colored environments, the pictures make working with this deck extra delightful!

The Bad:

• One of the first things that stuck out was the author’s dogmatic adherence to vegetarianism even in the face of historical facts. I’ve no problem with vegetarianism in and of itself; however, Polynesian cultures are not and never have been vegetarian, and they did not simply begin eating meat because of contact with the Europeans. Yet she asserts this very idea on the first two pages (6-7) of the introduction.
• Lemuria and Atlantis: Arrrrrrgh. This is New Age stuff, pure and simple. Yet, like so many New Age authors, she tries to connect these fictional, completely unproven, conveniently lost continents to Hawaiian indigenous culture.
• Related to my last point, her book is based on the aforementioned Huna — which is not traditional Hawaiian religion. It’s a creation from the latter half of the 19^th century when spiritualism and other such things were all the rage, and while it (and this book) dabble in Hawaiian religious and cultural elements, they are not synonymous. The author (who as I mentioned has a Ph.D. in Huna gained from University College in London, U.K.) claims to have spoken to indigenous Hawaiian practitioners of this, but she doesn’t give any indication of what status they have in their indigenous culture(s) or where they learned their material. Given that even indigenous cultures can have their frauds (being indigenous in genetics does not automatically confer full understanding of indigenous culture if you are primarily white in culture), I have to question how verifiably indigenous her information really is. This looks more like cultural appropriation than indigenous Hawaiian religion and culture.
• ”Land of Light”? This idealization of Hawaiian culture (and it’s definitely not limited to the subtitle) smacks of the Noble Savage stereotype.

Honestly, I’m leaning towards setting aside the book and keeping the cards. Unless you’re brand new to animal card divination and don’t yet feel you can interpret the cards based on your own observations (and the study of a species’ natural history, from whence its lore ultimately springs), it’s really not necessary. The information that is provided on cultural and other contexts is spotted with questionable content. Read through the book to get an idea of the author’s perspective and intent for creating the deck, but take it with a huge lick of salt.

Two pawprints out of five (though I give the art a five!)

Review ©2009 Lupa
Edited by Sheta Kaey

I first met Isaac Bonewits a few years ago at the Fall Gathering of the Tribes in West Virginia. It was quite interesting to talk with him and it was at that time that I was introduced to his work. Bonewits has been involved in the occult since the 1960s. He’s the only person to have graduated from a university with a degree in magic. Bonewits has founded and belonged to various pagan magical organizations, as well as having written a number of books on paganism and magic.

My familiarity with Bonewits’ work has focused on four books by him: Real Magic: An Introductory Treatise on the Basic Principles of Yellow Magic, Authentic Thaumaturgy, Bonewits’s Essential Guide to Witchcraft and Wicca, and Real Energy: Systems, Spirits, And Substances to Heal, Change, And Grow, which was co-written by his wife Phaedra Bonewits. Bonewits has written other books as well (see below). What I’ve most enjoyed about his work, beyond the sense of humor, is the attention to detail Bonewits provides in his works, as well as his ability to explain different tangents and concepts. Real Magic, in particular, is one of the first attempts I’ve seen to provide a coherent set of laws which explains how magic works.

I recommend Bonewits’ books for the detail and variety, but also because he maintains a rigorous academic approach to his works. Consequently, it is very easy to trace where he got his sources from, which can provide additional places of research and reading for people who are interested.

His website is http://www.neopagan.net.

Bibliography

• Real Magic: An Introductory Treatise on the Basic Principles of Yellow Magic. (1972, 1979, 1989) Weiser Books
• Authentic Thaumaturgy. (1978, 1998) Steve Jackson Games
• Rites of Worship: A Neopagan Approach. (2003) Earth Religions Press
• Witchcraft: A Concise Guide or Which Witch Is Which?. (2003) Earth Religions Press
• The Pagan Man: Priests, Warriors, Hunters, and Drummers. (2005) Citadel
• Bonewits’s Essential Guide to Witchcraft and Wicca. (2006) Citadel
• Bonewits’s Essential Guide to Druidism. (2006) Citadel
• Real Energy: Systems, Spirits, And Substances to Heal, Change, And Grow. (2007) New Leaf. Co-authored with Phaedra Bonewits.
• Neopagan Rites: A Guide to Creating Public Rituals that Work. (2007) Llewellyn

Taylor Ellwood is the author of Space/Time Magic, Inner Alchemy: Energy Work and the Magic of the Body, and Pop Culture Magick, among other works. You can visit his blog at http://magicalexperiments.wordpress.com/ and his website at http://www.thegreenwolf.com/.

©2009 Taylor Ellwood
Edited by Sheta Kaey

      

Donald Tyson’s Necronomicon Series, including

• Necronomicon: The Wanderings of Alhazred
  Llewellyn Publications (December 1, 2004)
  ISBN: 978-0738706276
  288 pages
• Alhazred: Author of the Necronomicon
  Llewellyn Publications (July 1, 2006)
  ISBN: 978-0738708928
  672 pages
• Necronomicon Tarot
  Illustrated by Anne Stokes
  Llewellyn Publications (September 1, 2007)
  ISBN: 978-0738710860
  240 pages plus 78 cards
• Grimoire of the Necronomicon
  Llewellyn Publications (August 1, 2008)
  ISBN: 978-0738713380
  216 pages

Reviewer: Lon Sarver

Stars rating pending.

H.P. Lovecraft, a writer of weird fiction for the pulp magazines of the first quarter of the twentieth century, created for his fiction a pantheon of demonic deities and their debased cults. This collection of beings and lore are known today as the Cthulhu Mythos, and have been expanded, first by Lovecraft’s friends and fellow pulp authors, and also by later generations of fantasists. Lovecraft and the others did the job so well that even now there are still people who believe that Lovecraft was writing fact disguised as fiction.

Even those who do not believe that Lovecraft’s writings are on some level literally true feel the dread pull of the Cthulhu Mythos, finding therein powerful symbols of strangeness, fear, and alien mystery. As with anything that grabs the attention and provokes the emotions, the Mythos has found its way into several serious works of magick.

Don Tyson’s Grimoire of the Necronomicon (Llewellyn 2008) is an attempt at one of these. Along with its companion volumes, Necronomicon: The Wanderings of Alhazred (2004), Alhazred: Author of the Necronomicon (2006), and the Necronomicon Tarot (2007), the Grimoire presents a new look at the Cthulhu Mythos as workable magickal system.

As such, the texts can be evaluated three ways: as contributions to the overall literature of the Cthulhu Mythos, as contributions to occult scholarship, and as a functioning magickal system.

Necronomicon: The Wanderings of Alhazred, the first to be published, presents itself as a version of Lovecraft’s Necronomicon, detailing the Mythos as discovered by Abdul Alhazred, a medieval Arab sorcerer. Alhazred: Author of the Necronomicon is a much longer work, describing the life and journeys of Alhazred in the form of a novel of adventure and occult mystery.

From his surviving letters and non-fiction writing, we know that Lovecraft believed in using fragments and hints to fire the reader’s imagination. Dread and horror would thus be created in the reader’s mind far more effectively than they could be in complete descriptions on a page.

Unfortunately, Tyson’s writing does much to remove that kind of mystery without replacing it with anything worthwhile. While Necronomicon could easily be excused as an occultist fan’s labor of love, perhaps, Alhazred could not. The novel would read and feel exactly the same if one were to change the names of the protagonist and the monsters so as to remove all allusions to Lovecraft.

Also, the attributes Tyson ascribes to the Mythos and its entities are so changed from Lovecraft’s work that it seems, at times, as if the author is writing about entirely different things, and only borrowing the more famous names. This would give the books a hollow feeling to any reader familiar with the other stories that make up the Mythos.

This is important to the magickal value of the Grimoire and the tarot deck. Insofar that the point of writing a work of Cthulhu Mythos magick is to tap the current of energy created by generations of readers of this kind of fiction, departures from that fiction weaken the link, and the power that can be drawn through it.

The Necronomicon Tarot suffers heavily from this. The descriptions of the various Mythos entities used in the deck frequently do not match their presentation in works of Mythos fiction, and often do not match the meanings of the cards upon which they appear. For example, Azathoth is described by Lovecraft as a blind, idiot god dancing at the physical center of the universe. The deity is generally understood by Lovecraft scholars as a metaphor for Lovecraft’s existential dread of a blind, uncaring universe far too large for humans to comprehend.

In the Necronomicon Tarot, this deity is used as the image for Trump 0, The Fool. While the traditional divinatory meanings of innocence, child-like wonder, and gullibility are kept for the card, the deity is described as a filthy, insane being squatting in its own excrement. Use of the deck for divination, or really for any purpose other than rounding out a collection of Mythos paraphernalia, would be impaired by such internal dissonance. It certainly was for me.

The Grimoire of the Necronomicon itself suffers on many levels. Stripped of all of Tyson’s Lovecraftian pretentions, it is a simplified system of planetary/astrological magick. In brief, particular beings from the Mythos are ascribed to the seven “planets” of classical astrology, whose energies are held to rule various aspects of life. Communing with these beings through ritual brings these energies under the magician’s control and perfects the magician’s soul. Additionally, Tyson created twelve beings to represent the signs of the zodiac, for similar use.

Stripped to its bones, the system isn’t bad, just incomplete. Much of the material is borrowed from other, better works of planetary magick, without the context or depth that the original systems provided. In place of this is a narrative which attempts to explain how the various deities of the Cthulhu Mythos are related to the planets, why they would work with the magician, and why such an alliance is a good idea in the first place.

The narrative begins with the creation of the physical world as the aftermath of a cosmic rape. Nyarlathotep, a malign trickster god, attempts to usurp Azathoth’s throne and rapes his daughter. Azathoth is blinded and driven insane, and his daughter flees the divine court and wraps matter around herself, becoming the Earth. Nyarlathotep and the other deities then vow to extinguish all life on Earth and destroy the planet, to “free” the goddess in order for Nyarlathotep to force himself on her again and complete his usurpation.

It should be noted that this is original with Tyson. Except for the characterization of Nyarlathotep as a malign trickster, none of this appears in any Mythos fiction of which I am aware. Thematically, the story is entirely counter to original stories. What made the entities of the Mythos horrible in the original stories was that they were undeniable proof that the Earth is not special and that the powers that be do not care if humanity lives or dies. It is, so far as I can tell, a rather loose adaptation of certain Gnostic ideas about the corruption of the material world and the human spirit’s fall from grace.

The text of the Grimoire is ambivalent about the myth at its center. Sometimes, it seems to hint that the tale is about the redemption of a fallen world, and that the “good” magicians work to restore Azathoth to health and power. Most of the time, the text suggests that there is nothing one can do but go along with a bad system, repeating that those who will not serve Nyarlathotep will be destroyed with everyone else.

Perhaps the only saving grace of the Grimoire is that it does not pretend to be a revelation of the “real” magick behind Lovecraft’s fiction. The introduction is candid about the text being a fusion of fiction and bits and pieces of magickal systems. Despite this, however, it never quite makes a case for why a magician would want to choose this particular modern synthesis over all the other more complete, and less offensive, systems of planetary magick available.

So these four texts contribute nothing original or useful to the literature of either the occult or the Cthulhu Mythos. The question remains, though: Does it work?

Yes and no.

In order to test the system, I performed an evocation of Yig. In the original fiction, Yig was a snake-god in the American west who took horrible vengeance on anyone who harmed a snake. In the Grimiore, Yig is the god associated with Saturn, the keeper of forgotten and occult secrets. This seemed to be the appropriate entity of which to ask questions about a magickal system.

The ritual for contacting the Great Old Ones detailed in the Grimiore is not complex. One goes to a lonely place, preferably one at altitude and with a view of the night sky. A circle of seven stones is made, with four rods painted the colors of four of the Great Old Ones marking elemental directions. On a central altar, three more colored rods representing Azathoth, Nyarlathotep, and Yog-Sothoth form a triangle. Candles are placed at the points of this triangle.

The magician then sits or stands to the south of the altar, facing north, and recites the Long Chant. The Long Chant is a fairly standard invocation, customized to the narrative of the Grimiore. The chant is presented in both English and Enochian, for the convenience of the magician.

Once the chant is completed, one calls upon the chosen entity to appear in the triangle. Any offerings or sacrifices are placed on the altar inside the rods. The text does not provide invocations for the deities, though many of them have personal requirements of location or timing the magician must observe.

What is supposed to happen next is left vague. The magician is to meditate, and will, if all goes well, receive some kind of communication from the entity called. The gate is closed, the candles extinguished, and the rite is over.

For me, a circle of stones on a hilltop was not practical. I substituted a room on the second floor of my home, with a large, open window through which I could see the night sky. In the place of a stone circle, I created banners for the cardinal points according to the instructions in the Grimiore, and hung them in the appropriate directions. As the Grimoire stresses that the “true” circle exists on the astral, I felt comfortable in simply visualizing the standing stones.

I read out the Long Chant four times, first in English and three more times in Enochian. After, I improvised an invitation to Yig, praising his wisdom and asking for contact. In my mind’s eye, I saw a snake curled up in the triangle. Meditating on the altar, I did receive a vision of Yig and his realm, and heard the god’s answers to my questions about the system of the Grimiore.

To summarize the wisdom of Yig, the beings contacted by the magick of the Grimiore are not, in fact, the beings written of by Lovecraft and his peers — but they could be, given time and the effort of magicians using this system. In any case, the specific names and images of the system are only tools for achieving contact with whatever it is magicians are contacting, so it doesn’t matter whether or not the deities are fictional or historical.

I thanked the old snake and closed the rite.

So, did the magick work? Yes, in the sense that the ritual induced a vision. However, the ritual did not evoke any of the sense of dread or cosmic vastness associated with the Cthulhu Mythos. This is for the best, really. The folks who seek experiences with real-world magick based on the Mythos are most likely not imagining what it would feel like to be living out one of Lovecraft’s stories. Instead, they’re probably recalling what it felt like to read those stories, and seeking to tap into that emotional current.

While the system seems to produce results, it doesn’t actually do anything better or differently than any other system of magick I have ever worked. The Lovecraft pastiche doesn’t seem to interfere, but it also adds nothing.

One might wonder how useful it is to make contact with a fake snake god. To quote Alan Moore, author, magician, and worshiper of the late Roman snake god Glycon; “If I’m gonna have a god I prefer it to be a complete hoax and a glove puppet because I’m not likely to start believing that glove puppet created the universe or anything dangerous like that.¹”

Approached this way, the Grimiore of the Necronomicon might be useful in maintaining a healthy skepticism about one’s magickal work. Those seriously interested in planetary magick with an old-school feel would be better served to study the systems of the Golden Dawn or the The Key of Solomon The King: (Clavicula Salomonis). Those seeking to evoke the mood of the cosmic and alien in their spiritual lives would do very well to track down a copy of The Pseudonomicon, by Phil Hine² .

Footnotes

1. Quoted from an interview, “Magic is Afoot,” published in Arthur magazine in May 2003
2. New Falcon publishing, 2004

Review ©2009 Lon Sarver
Edited by Sheta Kaey