Thursday, 17 September 2015

Charles W. Barlett

One of the most striking  and haunting illustrators of pre-partition India was, without question, Mr. Charles W. Barlett. Many European artists attempted to render the landscape and scenes of the sub-continent according to European conventions, some better than others, but few forged an authentically oriental mode which was at the same time faithful to the European observer. Mr. Barlett's work is outstanding in exactly this respect.

The characteristic feature of his style is that he combines a Japanese woodblock technique ( the ukiyo-e or 'Floating World' style) with subjects taken from the Indian landscape, along with portrayals of Mahometan and Hindoo life. He had the usual training in the European tradition but early in his career encountered the increasingly popular Japanese minimalist aesthetic. Accordingly, he later went to Japan to study and there mastered Japanese techniques. His second wife 'Kate' was from a wealthy family and had the resources to enable them to travel widely. This included a prolonged tour of British India. Eventually the couple settled in Hawaii and never returned to England. He is best known and often counted as an artist of those luscious islands.

The present writer is of the view that his woodblocks of Indian subject matter, made in and after 1913, are superb. Several of the better examples can be seen below. His studies of the Taj Mahal in Agra are especially outstanding. Here we see a beautiful and unique conjunction of orientalist sensitivity: a Japanese style applied to Indian subject matter by an English artist in a compelling and seamless synthesis.This is everything that is best about the orientalist artists, the capacity of assimilate and transcend and yet remain themselves. Select a picture to see the enlarged version. 


Twilight in Agra


Caravansarai at Peshwar



The Golden Temple, Amritsar


Benares

Benares


The Taj Mahal from the desert


The Taj Mahal 1916



Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black





Sunday, 19 July 2015

The Gospel of Barnabas

From time to time readers will encounter tantalising stories in the media and these days its 'social' adjuncts of a long lost gospel that has been recently rediscovered that proves the Mahometan version of the life of Christ. Great claims are made for this gospel and it is usually said to be in the possession of museum authorities in Turkey. The media story keeps reappearing. The present author must have seen it four or five times now over a period of twenty years. It is an item of sensationalist drivel that bored journalists recycle on a regular basis. 

The document in question - although it is often not named in these stories - is the medieval Gospel of Barnabas. It is surely one of the strangest of texts from the occidental Middle Ages. It has long been an object of fascination because it does indeed present a Mahometan or at least Islaamified version of the life of Christ. It is clearly a work of the Middle Ages, although there remains the possibility that it contains material from earlier periods - even from the early Christian era.

Over the years it has been the centrepiece of the present author's academic work. Unfortunately, it has been - and continues to be - entangled in the febrile inter-religious disputes of Christian and Mahometan apologists. For their part, the Musulmans claim that it is the long lost Injeel of the Prophet Isa. The Christians, on the other hand, want to dismiss it as a worthless or even a "vile" forgery. The present writer is firmly of the view that it is best to consider it separate from this atmosphere of polemic.

You can find some work on this fascinating and mysterious text here:






Here is a page from the said document. As readers can observe it contains Arabic margin notes. These have never been explained. In fact, we do not know who wrote this gospel text, when, where or why. After twenty or so years of research this writer believes he has a few clues but much of the mystery remains. Cross-posts of a few items on this mysterious Gospel of Barnabas will be placed here in the near future.











Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black





Thursday, 9 July 2015

The Flying Carpet - Vasnetsov

Without dwelling on contemporary political events in the Ukraine, it is very clear that the Euro-American/Russian divide has been renewed in what amounts to a neo-Cold War. The present writer is of the view that this is a situation largely contrived and orchestrated by NATO and concerns geopolitical squabbles over resources and military domination. It certainly has little to do with "freedom" and "liberty" and other noble principles. On the whole, and in view of these events, he grow more sympathetic to the Russians, and Russian civilisation, by the day, and this has led him to delve further into the extraordinary artistic legacy of the Russian people. (Actually, it is not only an artistic legacy, but a spiritual tradition. Russia is not merely a country. It is a civilisation - a Christian civilisation - of extraordinary beauty and depth.) 

Accordingly, his explorations of Russian art lead him to uncover more and more treasures. Most recently, he discovered the works of Viktor Vasnetsov, born 1848, died 1926. He is counted as a Russian "romantic" who specialised in depictions of Russian mythology and folklore, but he was also an icon painter who produced profound Christian works including great frescoes in Russian cathedrals. He should be counted among 'orientalists' (Russia is 'east', after all) because there is a distinctly oriental ambience and oriental motifs in many of his works. For example, there are his paintings that feature that most oriental of motifs, the magic carpet. Perhaps his most famous painting is a picture of the Russian folk hero Ivan Tsarevich on a quest for the Firebird of Slavic legend on a flying carpet. Here:


Ivan Tsarevich is no one in particular. (The flying carpet is often associated with the more concrete hero, Baba Yaga.) Ivan Tsarevich is just a ubiquitous and pervasive hero in Russian legend. The Firebird is a feature of Slavic mythic adventures where, typically, the hero must seek out the bird having first discovered one of its feathers. Vasnetsov's painting of the quest is a bold, sweeping image that brings these two features of Russian folklore together through the oriental vehicle of the flying rug. The painting is often entitled Samolet (ie. air craft). You will note the crescent moon in the clouds.


The flying carpet is a motif the artist used several times. Here is another instance, more gentle and less spectacular and fantastic:


The magic or flying carpet, of course, alludes to the prayer rug - a device for spiritual flight, the ascent of the spirit. In this sense it is related to the symbolism of the cloud. Here is another painting - this time on a familiar religious theme, Madonna and Child (Bogomater) - by Viktor Vasnetsov:


There is much more to be said about this parallel. The flying carpet and the hovering cloud are closely related symbols. They recur in oriental myth and folklore - the Arabian Nights, for instance - often. Hopefully, this can be explored in future posts along with other works by this neglected artist. Vasnetsov is a wonderful artist with a rich folio of paintings and drawings covering both mythological topics and Christian iconography (in the Orthodox tradition.) 



Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

Aleister Crowley and the Occult Orient



Crowley of Arabia. 

In the recent annals of Western occultism one figure looms large: Mr. Aleister Crowley. There is no need to rehearse his credentials here; of all the figures who embraced the occult revival of the late 19th C. he, more than anyone else, took it by the horns and pursued it with a life-long dedication. He was endowed with both a small fortune to spend and a very considerable and creative intellect to apply to the task. Raised by Plymouth Brethren Puritans, he devoted his adult life to the tireless exploration of occultism and magic, both white and black, and at length created his own religious edifice - "Crowleyanity" as some have called it - the cultus of Thelema, advanced by several organisations of Mr. Crowley's creation such as the O.T.O. (Order of the Templars of the Orient) and the A.A. (The Silver Star). Today, Mr. Crowley retains a wide and growing following having long been a darling of the counter-culture who were impressed by his libertine bisexuality, his endless indulgence of drugs and his personal war on Christian morality.

All of this is well documented. What is less well understood and has received less commentary is the extent to which Mr. Crowley falls into the category of 'Orientalist' and, indeed, the extent to which the so-called 'occultism' to which he was dedicated was and is an essentially orientalist enterprise. That is to say, it consists of appropriations from the real or imagined 'East'. Especially the imagined. In the case of Crowley his orientalism is easy to demonstrate. While ostensibly an exponent of the 'Western' path and a Master of occidental magic, the whole content of his doctrine is oriental in origin. For a start, the central structure of his teaching is an adaptation of the Hebrew Cabala based, largely, upon the alphanumerics of the Hebrew alphabet. To this he has added elements of yoga (via his teacher, a Mr. Allan Bennet) and a liberal dose of Taoism (very largely via the I Ching). This is all then incorporated into the distinctly quasi-Mahometan Masonic structures of the O.T.O. (Knights of the Orient) with, above all, a supposed sacred text called the Book of the Law which was written by this Mr. Crowley in Cairo in 1904. The 'Book of the Law' is nothing less than a pastiche of the Koran dressed up in Egypto-magickal clothing. Endlessly restless, Crowley travelled to India, journeyed across China and toured North Africa and the French Levant in search of his own variety of enlightenment. His journeys to Russia and his work as a British spy are less well documented.



Crowley dressed as a Chinaman. 




Crowley trekking in the Himalayas. 

It is very noticeable that there is little or no truly occidental content in this mixture. Like other Victorians, Crowley looked eastwards. In particular, when he needed a model for his system he looked to Mahometan models and to Soofism. Very few sources give full credit to this fact. The clues are all there, though, in books such as Mr. Israel Regardie's The Eye in the Triangle. Mr. Regardie notes that Crowley had immersed himself in the study of Mahometanism and had learnt to recite portions of the Koran just prior to the "revelations" of 1904. According to Crowley's own account (he is notoriously unreliable in accounts regarding himself, it should be observed) he and his poor wife Rose were living in Cairo when he, Crowley, was contacted by a "praeta-human intelligence" named "Aiwass" who appointed him Holy Prophet of the New Aeon and dictated the Book of the Law to him. That this is a carbon-copy of the story of the Prophet Mahomet having the new law of the Koran dictated to him by the Angel Jibreel is all too obvious. It is remarkable that more people have not commented upon it. In setting himself up as "Prophet" Mr. Crowley has modelled himself upon the Prophet of Islaam. It is a very obvious appropriation. There are stylistic and other parallels too. Those the new prophet deputised in his new religion he named "Caliph", among other strongly Mahometan gestures. While he was a vicious and embittered enemy of Christianity, Aleister Crowley wrote approvingly of many aspects of Islaam and adopted the prophetic structures of Islaam in his self-made quest for illumination.

The debt of Crowley to Masonic-Soofism and to Mahotemism more generally deserves to be the subject of a major study, or at least it deserves to be among the issues considered in a broader study of the "occult" as an orientalist phenomenon. We might start, for example, by noting that the magickal cypher ABRAHADABRA - one of the keys to Mr. Crowley's cryptic Cabala - is, like most "barbarous names" and "magical formulae" - just a European corruption of Arabic words. This is true of European occultism in general. It is a fringe phenomenon - a dabbling with the Other. (The Occult-as-Other and, conversely, the Other-as-Occult.) Aleister (his real name was Alexander) Crowley is a particularly transparent case. He was indeed a very English and very Victorian adventurer who became fascinated by the Orient, but in his case by the Orient as source of the mysterious, the occult (which is to say 'hidden') and, by extension, as source of the Sinister. It is a very persistent and very deep theme in European culture - Islaam as the Hidden, the Dark. Crowley devoted his life - brutish and coarse and grossly self-indulgent as it was - to exploring exactly that. It makes him one of the most interesting and colourful characters in this genre and a worthy focus for any study of the general topic, Mahometanism as the source of the occult.

Amongst other things the case of Crowley underlines what we might call the arena of shadows on the borderlands between European and Mahometan (Occidental and Oriental) civilisation. Think of the Occident and the Orient as being like tectonic plates. Where they meet there are fissures, eruptions, tremors, earthquakes. What is called the "occult" in the West is, very often, if not usually, a manifestation of those borderlands. The present writer proposes this as a general thesis. No consideration of Islaamic/West relations can be complete without some address to this borderland of shadows. There are deep and dark forces in that borderland. It is impossible - and very unwise - to consider Islaam/West relations without taking such forces into account. Arguably, as the two civilisations intermingle in the contemporary blending of 'globalism' and the supposedly 'post-colonial era' many of such forces are now loosed upon the world.


Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black

Sunday, 26 April 2015

Views of Nepal - Henry Ambrose Oldfield

The English watercolourist Henry Ambrose Oldfield (1822-1871) immortalised scenes from traditional Nepal, mainly in the 1850s. Oldfield was a medical doctor and traveller. He served as a medical surgeon in Bengal. His wonderful watercolour renderings of scenes from Nepal were collected and published after his death in a work entitled: Sketches from Nipal, historical and descriptive ... To which is added an essay on Nipalese Buddhism, and illustrations of religious monuments, architecture and scenery, etc [Edited by E O] 2 volumes (W H Allen & Co, London, 1880). The following plates are from that work. Select a picture to see an enlarged view. 


Thappatalli, the Residence of Maharaja Jang Bahadur at Kathmandu in Nepal - 1852






Nyatapola Temple at Bhaktapur




The Durbar, or Royal Palace, at Lalitpur (Patan) in Nepal - 1855








Concerning this painting Oldfield wrote:

"The Pashupatinath temple, seen in this view, is dedicated to Shiva and is situated beside the Bagmati river. There has been a Shiva temple on this spot since before the 9th century and the present temple was built by King Bhupalendra Malla in 1653. The square two-tiered building stands on a single-tiered plinth in an open courtyard. The temple has silver-plated and gilt doors with niches on both sides containing images of gold painted guardian deities."



Interior courtyard of monastery at Lalitpur (Patan) in Nepal - 1854





Inscribed by Oldfield as: "No. 4. Temple of Mahadeo, built A.D. 1650; with a corner of a Temple of Hurreeshunkur, built A.D. 1650. Bhatgaon."



The Kot in Katmandu. Festival of Durga puja. (Dussehra)



"Hindu temple at Lalitpur - Mahadeo or Shiva"



About this picture, Oldfield wrote:

"The Jal Binayak temple is dedicated to Ganesha, the God of Wisdom, who is venerated by Buddhists as well as Hindus. Ganesha's help is often called upon at the commencement of all important religious or domestic undertakings and his image is usually placed close to the entrance to a temple. This temple dates from 1602, but there is evidence to suggest that there was an earlier temple on the same spot. Ganesha is usually represented by an elephant's head, yet here he is represented by a large rock, as can be seen in the centre of this drawing."



Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black




Friday, 27 March 2015

Succussion in Alchemy

Below an unpublished essay on an obscure topic:

SUCCUSSION IN ALCHEMY: 
DEMIURGIC POTENCY AND PLANETARY QUALITIES 



Succussion in Homoeopathy

In contemporary biotherapeutic practice, the alchemical technique known as succussion is primarily associated with the potentization of homoeopathic medicines where the remedy is developed from the mother tincture up one of various mathematical scales. The founder of modern homoeopathy, Samuel Hahnemann, first attempted to treat his patients according to homoeopathic principles by raw tincture and then by simple dilution. At first, by his own account, he observed how quinine (as a tincture of cinchona bark) could both cause and cure the symptoms similar to malaria. Administering the pure tincture, however, would often cause adverse side effects in his patients, and so he began diluting the tincture by factors of one drop in ten (the X scale) or one drop in one hundred (the C scale) hoping for homoeopathic action (like curing like) without adverse reactions. Then, at some point in his early experiments – and probably drawing upon his extensive knowledge of ancient and medieval medical and alchemical techniques – he began succussing with each dilution. That is, taking one drop of tincture to ten or one hundred drops of a neutral medium, he would succuss the dilution by striking it forcibly and rhythmically against an elastic object such as a leather-bound book. This would constitute the first potency. Then he would take one drop of this, dilute it, and succuss, to make the second potency, and so forth. While simple dilution produced meager results and led to a diminishing of the homoeopathic effect until it ceased altogether, Hahnemann claimed that succussion preserved that effect and transmitted it through the chain of dilution. Succussion, he found, was crucial to the production of effective homoeopathic dilutions and provided the technique necessary to preserve the potency of the medicine while avoiding the side-effects of crude doses. When his critics jibed that homoeopathic dilution was like trying to cure the whole of Switzerland by adding a bucket of medicine to Lake Geneva, Hahnemann retorted that it might be so if only we could find some way to succuss Lake Geneva. Without succussion, the tincture is merely diluted. With succussion it is potentized and the homoeopathic action is preserved on the basis that the organism is super-sensitive to the similar remedy.

It hardly needs to be said that the physical basis of this defies conventional understandings of chemistry to this day, and thus is homoeopathy still subject to derision and claims that its medicines are merely placebos. Homoeopaths, moreover, have not been able to present any convincing account of what makes succussed homoeopathic dilutions effective. They must be content to say that it remains an empirical mystery, or they must hypothesize that, somehow, the medium used in dilution (water or alcohol) “remembers” information from one dilution to the next, that information being “imprinted” – somehow - by means of the succussion.

Of course, succussion is not limited to homoeopathy. It really just means striking a solution with force and this might be done in many pharmacological or alchemical operations, usually to loosen and dissolve active ingredients. Homoeopathy, though, has made special claims about the powers of succussion and its capacity to bring potency to dilutions. Hahnemann, we might say, discovered a more noble purpose for succussion than it just being a convenient mode of agitation. Outside of homeopathy, succussion is a method used in such operations as the production of tinctures, where, for example, the tincture will be succussed from time to time in order to assist the passage of active components from the plant matter to the menstruum. The tincture is thumped (succussed) to loosen active ingredients or, sometimes, to remove bubbles and air pockets. Homoeopathy elevates it to a loftier role beyond the merely mechanical and suggests that there is something more going on than just a loosening of physical parts. Homoeopathic practice suggests that succussion is not just a particular mode of agitation but has other, more significant, uses.

All the same, it should be noted that, strictly speaking, homoeopathy makes no claims about succussion in isolation; rather, in homoeopathy, succussion is always combined with dilution. Just as dilution alone does not work – as Hahnemann found – so too continuous succussion does not advance a homoeopathic preparation up the scale of potencies. There is no point in succussing a potency any more than necessary unless one also dilutes according to the scale being used. In homoeopathic pharmacy, that is, succussion and dilution go together and form a single process. The process is dilute/success/dilute/success, and so on. The succussion brings a kinetic element to the dilution without which the dilution would be merely a diminution of the medicine. Nevertheless, there seems to be some inherent vitality to succussion because, when a homoeopathic medicine has been sitting idle for a long while, homeopaths will often succuss it once more – without dilution – prior to its use. Succussion alone does not increase its potency in the formal sense, but the kinetic vitality imparted by succussion does seem essential to the life of homoeopathic medicines. They become flat – lose their “vibration” – without it. In alchemy succussion is not usually co-joined with dilution. It is just a method of agitating a preparation, and is used for much the same reasons as simple stirring.

Succussion Defined

To be clear, though, let us note here – following careful distinctions made by Hahnemann himself - that succussion is not the same as merely tapping, jiggling, stirring, knocking, shaking or other means of agitation. It is a very particular, exact technique. To succuss a preparation means to hit it with some force upon a surface. Whatever the intent, to shake or stir is not quite the same thing. For homoeopathic purposes, certainly, Hahnemann found that a pronounced striking (technically called “succussion”) was necessary. The vial containing the preparation needs to be thumped upon an appropriately pliant surface (pliant, so that the vial does not break), and this needs to be done not just once but for a period of time in a rhythmic fashion. There is no agreement on the number of succussions required for each dilution – some say sixty, some say a hundred, some more, some less – but in every case the preparation is struck upon a surface with some force – thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud – in order to impart a series of kinetic shocks to the liquid contents. The kinetic nature of the process is evidently crucial because, again, merely shaking does not have the required effect. It is the specific practice of succussion – a rhythmic striking – that Hahnemann found to be efficacious.

Succussion in Alchemy

The purpose of this short paper is to make some broader observations about succussion in the context of alchemy and to suggest a further use for succussion in contemporary alchemical practice. Prior to Hahnemann succussion was a humble process taken for granted and no one suspected that it had important applications or indeed any deep significance in a theoretical sense. Here we propose describing an important use for succussion and also making mention of its deeper meaning and background in alchemical symbolism. We are not concerned with the specific applications discovered by homoeopaths, because we are not concerned with the production of specifically homoeopathic pharmaceuticals. We have only discussed homeopathy because homoeopathy has made succussion its own. Here, instead, we are concerned with the spagyric arts more generally. In these arts succussion is a neglected technique. Taking a lead from homeopathy, our purpose is to realize its power as a method of “imprinting” qualities upon an alchemical preparation. In particular, this paper proposes a method whereby succussion is used to enhance the planetary or astrological qualities of alchemical preparations. Homoeopathy separates itself from alchemy in this regard, claims no astrological foundations, and insists that it is entirely empirical. It is a selective adaptation of alchemical methods to a particular, ancient theory of medicine. Alchemy always remains wedded to astrology; they are sister sciences that form a single Work. We want to suggest an important application of succussion in view of that, and then mention several theoretical and symbolic points that follow from it.

Planetary Qualities

Alchemy is concerned with extracting, capturing and concentrating the sub-lunary manifestations of planetary forces, whether these are to be found embryonically in metals or in plants. In spagyric alchemy, plants are deemed to contain the planetary essences and the alchemical process consists of isolating those essences. Thus, for instance, certain herbs are valued because they are manifestations of certain planetary archetypes. Fennel is mercurial. The bay laurel is solar. And so on. Typically, herbs are harvested and processed on appropriate days and at appropriate hours according to established planetary correspondences. Herbs of Venus are harvested on Friday, the day ruled by that planet. Herbs of Saturn are harvested on Saturday, herbs of Mars on Tuesday And so on. This is familiar practice in contemporary plant alchemy, especially of the Paracelsian school, and there is no need to detail it here. There is a correspondence between plant and planet and the alchemical processes make use of these correspondences. Spagyric medicines, tinctures, elixirs and magestries are prepared with these correspondences in view and it is a key objective of all such alchemical operations that the product of the operation is imbued with concentrations of planetary forces. This is an essential feature of the theory and practice of alchemy since alchemy is concerned with the terrestrial manifestations of the celestial order.

Succussion can assist in this. The manner in which succussion “imprints” qualities to a medium can be used to extract, capture and concentrate planetary forces. It is a simple matter. In its most obvious application, the planetary qualities of a preparation may be enhanced by bringing succussion to it on the appropriate planetary days and/or at the appropriate planetary hours. Thus a solar preparation can be succussed each Sunday and, more particularly, during the hours of the Sun on Sunday. Let us suppose we are preparing a tincture of the bay laurel and in this we are seeking to enhance its solar properties. For a start, the plant material will be collected at the appropriate time, but after that it helps to attend to the tincture at similarly appropriate times. Many alchemists work like this in any case. They will strain the tincture at a time determined by the astrological correspondences, and wait for astrologically propitious times to conduct other operations upon the preparation. Some might even shake or stir the tincture at the appropriate times. This is all in order, but the point being made here is that succussion is a method naturally adapted to such processes. We should take note of Hahnemann’s experiments. Succussion – deliberate, prolonged rhythmic, kinetic striking – imparts a potency not found in stirring or shaking.

Sensitive Chaos

There is not, as we have already said, any standing theory to satisfy conventional science of the action of succussion. Homoeopaths have turned to studies of sub-atomic molecular structures or to vibrational hypotheses to try to explain how succussion can “imprint” information onto a neutral medium. It is probably more useful to turn to studies such as Theodore Schwenk’s account of water systems in Sensitive Chaos for a meaningful theoretical framework. Schwenk’s model is based on a simple order/chaos dichotomy. Systems in chaos, he says, are sensitive to systems of order. Chaos is thus a window to creativity. Where there is chaos, a new order will impose itself. This might be what happens in succussion, either at sub-atomic or even more subtle levels. Each collision, each strike, shatters an existing order. A new order – a new code of information – then quickly gathers to fill that void. When the succussion is repeated over and over in rhythmic succession a particular order is “imprinted” upon the neutral medium.

Astrological Tides

In any case, by these criteria succussion deserves a more prominent place in the alchemist’s repertoire of techniques, and if certain processes are timed according to astrological tides, and are deemed sensitive to planetary qualities, succussion is very likely to be more effective than some other processes such as shaking or stirring. It is somewhat by the way, but Schwenk’s study, dealing as it does with sensitive chaos in large natural systems, should lead us to consider the use of actual planetary formations in alchemical work rather than the traditional (and rather mechanical) calendar of tides. The imprints of succussion might be better adapted to actual cosmological events. This would suggest a way in which very specific cosmological qualities might be extracted, captured and concentrated. For example, the qualities of a certain celestial configuration, such as a trine relationship between, say, the Sun, Moon and Saturn, might be harnessed through these means. Every time that this same configuration occurred the preparation (tincture etc.) in question would be succussed. It would be struck upon a pliant surface sixty or so times. If it was succussed at these specific astrological junctures and at no others then, perforce, and by virtue of the sensitivity of the succussed medium, the qualities of that configuration would be “imprinted”.

This is a rather more organic approach than following a set calendar of planetary days and hours. For Mercurial preparations, for example, the alchemist chooses a particular astrological configuration in which Mercury is prominent - a Mercury/Solar conjunction, perhaps - and then succusses the preparation every time that configuration recurs. In practical terms, in fact, solar and lunar conjunctions lend themselves to this sort of approach, but less common configurations might be targeted as well, depending upon what qualities the alchemist seeks to deploy. All things considered, this might be a better approach than that which prevails in most Paracelsean practice today, namely just shaking preparations on a given day of the week. As it is, some alchemists will construct a chart of the heavens (horoscope) for some major operations. It might be better if, in general, alchemists were more cognizant of astrological cycles, just as it would certainly enhance the practice of astrology in modern times if astrologers were more aware of the connections of their art to alchemy. The “imprinting” for which we are supposing succussion to be an agent supposes an entirely hermetic mode of sensitivity. Alchemical preparations are routinely conceived to be microcosmic – it is therefore the macrocosm to which they will be sensitive. The hermetic maxim prevails in all such cases. We therefore take the microcosmic solution and succuss it in the deliberate Hahnemanian manner (though without serial dilution, because we are not making homoeopathic remedies) at carefully selected times, nodes of selected astrological potency. It is important not to succuss at other times. At other times – just like good wines - such preparations should be kept in a very stable state. Succussion occurs only when certain climates in the heavens return, and over time, by repetition, a certain condition of the cosmos is “imprinted” upon the menstruum. Again: shaking or stirring is to little avail. As Hahnemann found, there is something unique about succussion.

In order to produce potency, though, succussion must accompany dilution, or its equivalent. This insight of Hahnemann’s has its application in planetary alchemy in repeated operations at a series of identical astrological events. There is no merit in succussing a preparation for an extra long time once. Instead, it needs to be succussed at intervals, over and over, the more often the better. Each time the astrological configuration reoccurs, that is, the preparation is succussed sixty or so times. This is like one homoeopathic potency, 1x or 1c. The next time the same astrological configuration occurs the preparation is succussed again. This is then 2x or 2c. And so on. Hahnemann used a scale of dilutions. In the production of planetary spagyrics it is not a matter of dilution, but duration. The alchemist waits for the same aspect of cosmic order to return. The more often this is done, the greater the potency, the deeper the imprint. The x scale corresponds to astrological events of common regularity, while the c scale corresponds to events that occur with less regularity. In general terms, the x scale, we might say, is lunar, while the c scale is solar, or the x scale corresponds to the inferior planets and the c scale to the superior planets.

This is all by way of suggestion and follows from reflecting upon the powers of succussion exposed by homoeopathic pharmacy. It is entirely in order for alchemists to learn from the experience of their homoeopathic cousins. But it also follows from deeper reflections upon the nature of succussion as an alchemical method. Even though homoeopaths have made succussion (with dilution) their own, it is, we must insist here, a laboratory technique of a fundamentally alchemical nature. Certainly, Hahnemann did not invent it. It was already part of alchemical practice, but its roots had been forgotten and its powers unsuspected. So let us add some notes to put this practice back into a proper – that is, properly alchemical - perspective.

The Blacksmith’s Hammer

We only come to realize its importance when we appreciate that, as a method of kinetic force, it is directly related to the arts of the primordial alchemist, the blacksmith. Too often do laboratory alchemists forget that the basis of their art is in metallurgy, that the laboratory is actually a glorified smithy and the alchemist is actually a glorified smith. Too readily do alchemists forget such roots, especially in these abstract times. But if a modern alchemist was to spend some time in a smithy beside the heat and sparks of a real forge, he would soon notice the importance of the blacksmith beating – in kinetic rhythm - his raw materials with his hammer, his most basic tool. There is a direct and very obvious connection between the blacksmith hammering at his anvil and the alchemist (or homoeopath) succussing his liquid preparations. Thud-thud-thud-thud.

If we were to explore this matter further we would add that the blacksmith, moreover, is, in this capacity (as in others), demiurgic, and alchemy is an essentially demiurgic art. Succussion then, is a demiurgic process and must therefore be related to earthquakes insofar as the blacksmith is the demiurgic Vulcan and practices, by mimesis, the volcanic formative arts. This is necessary background. To understand alchemy one should always remember that the retort of the laboratory is the crucible of the forge, and the crucible of the forge is the crater of the volcano. Such parallels are fundamental and ever-present. In alchemy, of course, processes of geological duration are compressed. Typically, the alchemist takes the embryonic metals from the womb of the earth, places them in his athanor, and brings them to quick maturity by imitating the processes that in nature will take aeons. The alchemist advances the demiurgic Work. That, finally, is what alchemy is all about. In this sense, succussion is like aeons of earthquakes compressed into a few minutes. In nature, each earthquake shatters the terrestrial order with terrible force but a new order, born of the heavens, asserts itself again. This, we should understand, is the large-scale, macrocosmic correlative to the laboratory process of succussion. This is the macrocosmic volcano-geological process that the alchemist is imitating.

Rumi and the Anvil

This demiurgic symbolism is given beautiful expression in the story of the Muslim sage Rumi who, we are told, was one day walking through the bazaar when he heard the blacksmith’s hammer ringing out as it struck the anvil in steady rhythm. This innocent event was the catalyst for Rumi’s spiritual transformation. Suddenly, we are told, Rumi began whirling on the spot in ecstasy, his arms extended, in what is now the familiar and famous dance of his followers, the so-called whirling dervishes. By any account, the dance of the dervishes is planetary. Each dervish is an orb and they whirl around their own axis and about a central axis, the head dervish, the Sheihk. It is forgotten that it was the beat of the blacksmith’s hammer – demiurgic succussion - that caused Rumi’s transformation (like the transformation of metals) and that brought this celestial dance to earth. In this story the connection between succussion and the cosmological cycles of the planets is quite explicit.

Unseen to the observer of the dervish dance, furthermore, there is an internal alchemy with direct correlatives to the laboratory process of succussion. This is the so-called dhikr, or ‘prayer of remembrance’, which is the fundamental technique of Sufi spiritual transformation, and which has exact parallels in many other traditions. In dhikr, the dervish develops the practice of reciting the Divine Name internally, over and over, in serial repetition. The simplest form of it consists of reciting the Name of the Essence, Allah-Allah-Allah-Allah unceasingly, inwardly in the hidden chamber of the heart. The followers of Rumi do this as they conduct their planetary dance. The dhikr is described as ‘polishing the mirror of the heart’ or as ‘polishing a stone’ but in Sufi lore its origins are in the beat of the blacksmith’s hammer. It is the succussion of spiritual alchemy. What hammering is to the blacksmith’s art, so is succusion to the arts of the laboratory alchemist, and so too, in turn, is dhikr to the alchemy of the dervish.

Conclusion

The alchemist would do well to reflect on this symbolism and therein know that there is much more to succussion than just a method of shaking a herbal preparation. Hahnemann, we realize, stumbled upon an alchemical secret. Succussion is a commonplace, basic method. Pounding a solution on a surface to “stir it up” - what could be more basic? Yet it is, as homoeopaths know, a key to great power. And when we consider it in a broader view of alchemy and the primitive roots of the Art and take into account the appropriate parallels we realize that its symbolic meaning takes us back to what is ultimately a demiurgic primordiality. The simple act of striking a vial on a leather-bound book has a cosmic meaning. In alchemy it is always true that there is deep significance to be found in even the simplest operations.



- R. Blackhirst











































Monday, 23 March 2015

Nicholas Roerich

Speaking of Russian orientalists (see previous post about Vasily Vereshchagin) one cannot go past the great Nicholas Roerich. He is, by general agreement, the greatest of the Russian spiritual artists who turned his gaze and journeyed to the east. The present writer recalls his great enthusiasm when he first encountered Roerich's work. It was like finding a painter about whom he had dreamed; Roerich painted pictures that the author had sensed and imagined before he had seen them, works that he felt belonged in the world, works with an innate correctness. He remembers introducing these works to an acquaintance and she was merely ho-hum about them, underwhelmed. She was wrong and petty. What a lost opportunity! These are glowing works with an exceptional quality. They are works to which the present writer keeps returning again and again. Most recently, through a long chain of associations, he came back to Roerich's picture of Lord Krishna. It remains a favourite - archetypal Roerich:



Roerich occupies a special place in Russian cultural history - he was a passionate defender of Russian heritage. The October Revolution and the rise of Lenin and his philistines, however, saw him exiled to Finland, then London, then America before undertaking the so-called "Asian Expedition" in the years 1925 to 1929. Along with his wife Helena, Roerich toured through vast areas of Asia. The itinerary took them through (in Roerich's words)  "Sikkim through Punjab, Kashmir, Ladakh, the Karakoram Mountains, Khotan, Kashgar, Qara Shar, Urumchi, Irtysh, the Altai Mountains, the Orygot regions of Mongolia, the Central Gobi, Kansu, Tsaidam and Tibet." The paintings from this expedition and later paintings inspired by this expedition are especially wonderful. Here are a few:






No one captures the spiritual power of the Himalayas and the Central Asian plateau like Nicholas Roerich. Painting in tempera, these are works of great spiritual depth. There is a superb collection of Roerich's mountain paintings in the National Gallery of Modern Art in New Delhi.










He was, all the same, a man of eccentric ideas. Quite apart from his artistic undertakings, his stated mission during the great Asian Expedition was to rouse the Boodhists of the region into creating a utopian society allied, oddly enough, to the Soviet Union. He seems to have been assisted in this by the Soviet Secret Service, a peculiar episode in the Great Game. He was not especially political in his motivations; rather he harboured mystical views about a new civilisation arising from Central Asia. It was not an uncommon view in his time, promoted by  Madame Blavatsky and other Russians of a mystical bent. The idea of Tibet and Central Asia as a great repository of the spiritual heritage of mankind was a persistent theme in European and Russian ideas throughout the 19th C. and in fact up until recent times. In part, it underpins the contemporary popularity of Tibetan Boodhism in the West.

Roerich and his wife borrowed ideas from Theosophy and crafted them into their own idiosyncratic philosophy. It still survives in the form of "Agni Yoga" the headquarters of which remains in New York city. See here: http://agniyoga.org/





Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black

Tuesday, 17 March 2015

The Life and Death of Chung Ling Soo

In these miserable days of post-colonial cringe when spoilt well-off self-hating middle class white elites scream "racism" at the slightest provocation, it would be impossible to enjoy a great culture-bending talent like the stage magician Chung Ling Soo. An American Scott, his real name was William Ellsworth Robinson and he performed under that name for many years, as well as "James Campbell" and "Professor Campbell". After a professional feud with his rival the Asian conjurer Ching Ling Foo, however, he adopted a Chinese persona and the name Chung Ling Soo and became famous in that identity. The public became engrossed in his rivalry with Ching Ling Foo, which was on-going and bitter, and the two men - one Chinese and one imitating a Chinaman - sparred in magic tricks, each denouncing the other as a fraud and an impostor. Each man studied the performances of the other and tried to duplicate each other's illusions much to the delight of theatre-goers everywhere. 

Robinson did not take to his Chinese persona by halves; he adopted the identity in every aspect. He was scrupulous in his adoption of Chinese manners. He shaved his head, grew a pony-tail or "Manchu queue", wore silk attire and coloured his skin. He never spoke English - other than a few broken phrases - on stage or in public and he adopted a raft of Chinese habits. His new persona came with an elaborate back story. He claimed to be the child of a Scottish father and a Cantonese woman and to have been orphaned at the age of eleven. He learnt magic, he said, in South America under the tutelage of an Asian mystic named Arr Hee. When Arr Hee died the young apprentice took to the road, touring the world with the secret and ancient arts of Chinese supernaturalism. (Like much else about Robinson the story of being taught by Arr Hee is spurious. In fact, Arr Hee had made a career as a stage magician and Robinson effectively pilfered his authority for his own purposes.) 

Here below is a picture of the said magus:

Chung Ling Soo.jpg

And here is a theatre poster promoting him as "The Marvellous Chinese Conjurer". He was born in 1861 and died - in a famous incident on stage - in 1918. At the height of his career he was world famous and the highest paid act on the vaudeville circuit.


And here is another poster from 1906:


During his stage act he was accompanied by his wife Olive Path who appeared, less convincingly, as the Chinese woman Suee Seen. She was the willing victim in his illusions: the lady in the glass case, sawing a woman in half, the woman in the boiling couldron etc. She features - as if the main attraction - in this theatre poster from the same era:



And here they are, along with a further stage assistant known as 'Bamboo Flower'.


This picture is found in the State Library of Victoria (Australia). Chung Ling Soo and his act, along with some seventy-five tons of luggage,  came to Australia in 1909, performing to sell-out crowds. It is related that he made over 400 pounds salary a week, a better wage than the Governor-General and Prime Minister combined. Not only did he perform on stage, he also walked the streets of the major cities performing illusions and tricks on the spot to delighted and astounded onlookers. He embodied the character of the "mystic East". Far from being just a "racist caricature" he softened and deepened the Australian reception of "orientals". He frequented Chinatown in Sydney and was beloved by the Chinese and Euro-Chinese communities. 

An innovative showman, he spent much of his time in Australia developing new illusions. When he arrived his show consisted of thirteen feats; by the time he left he had extended his show to two hours and over thirty feats. Some of his tricks were old standards, but his craft was superb and he presented them with new flare. Other tricks were ambitious and spectacular including amazing feats of fire-eating. One of his most famous tricks involved throwing animal skins into a cauldron of boiling water from which he would then pluck live animals, as if magically reborn. In another he would fire an arrow on a string through at his assistant. It would appear to go right through her body and strike a target behind her. 

In 1918, in London, one of his most famous stunts - the dreaded 'bullet catch' - went wrong. He had performed the trick many times without incident. An audience member would load a marked bullet in a pistol. It would then be fired directly at the magician who would catch the bullet in his teeth. On this occasion, the illusion (done with a trick gun and a blank) failed and the performer was struck in the chest by a live bullet. He fell to the ground and uttered his only English words on stage, "Oh my God! Close the curtains!" He died in hospital the following day. A police inquiry into the incident eventually made a ruling of 'Death by Misadventure'. 

Today's politically-correct sensitivities squirm at the very thought of an Anglosaxon making use of a Chinese persona as a stage act. If you search for accounts of the life and death of Chung Ling Soo online they are invariably prefaced with post-colonial twaddle as if we now need to make excuses for him.  See here for instance where it is claimed that "his humility ensured that xenophobic Australian audiences did not see him as a threat..." We stereotype the 'racism' of past generations and dress it up with our own moral vanity. The author claims that "Orientalism was used to enhance the myth of white supremacy..." It was rather more complicated than that. Cases like Chung Ling Soo - cheered and revered by audiences who earnestly believed him to be Chinese -  are not so easily explained. 


Yours,
Harper McAlpine Black