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Correspondence from George MacNie Cowie to Aleister Crowley
14 Glenisla Gardens, Edinburgh.
[Undated: circa 1913?]
Care Frater.
Haven't written sooner as I knew that 'busy' isn't the word for you, and these presents is just a note that requireth no answer. I thought I had a splendid chance not to let you down gently last week end, and to slang you for a wicked perverse Black Magician and a Creator of Terminological Inexactitudes for saying the Mother [Leila Waddell] would be here in two weeks, whereas actually she arrived six days thereafter and at, to me, a days notice. However she says it wasn't your fault, so you may breathe again—if you have time.
I was much put out at the idea of her having to go into digs when she has a friend here. It wasn't possible to get any one else to be in the house, but I managed to fix things up so that she would be comfortable here for one night at least, til we saw what could be arranged.
I met her on arrival, but we both felt that for appearance sake it was better she just go to her rooms at once, as she knew where to go. Short of having her in my own house I have done all in my limited power to show her due love and honour, for both your sakes, and I daresay it has been pleasanter for her at least than if she had no one at all to see her.
I went with a friend to se her performance on Friday and was greatly delighted with it—the only artistic thing in (to me) rather a dismal programme. It struck me what a very effective thing she and these girls make out of a Witches Sabbath dance and an Act that would probably fetch her at least double the money. I feel sure this idea has occurred to you too, and you can easily imagine details.
One good point would be to drape the girls in white in front, all black behind. At the proper point let them face a black cloth, and so suddenly seem to disappear, the sound of their violins coming from apparent nothingness, Mother alone remaining in front of flaming scarlet brilliantly lit up, a collar of emeralds for a point of contrast. Give the other girls ragged white chemises, a judicious amount of (apparent) cuticle left visible and see if the great B[ritish] P[ublic] don't clap their beastly hands off with applause. I will copy this note when I write to her. Have made the rough suggestion already and she seemed to think it a possible idea.
I won't be coming up to London till after Christmas—I told you I would get my main holiday in August, and tho' it was very much broken up I feel that I have had my allowance, and we have now begun the busiest part of the year. I did not think there was any special use in coming up in your absence. Had I been doing the retirement under discipline, there would have been some advantage, but as it was London in August did not appeal to me, and I think I did well in remaining at home, as I lost no inch of time.
The 10 days in July was the best, the rest rather a fiasco as per usual. My record the last three weeks is about the worst yet. A bad cold, I caught the absence of a housekeeper, extra business and other distractions. However things will be normal in a day or two. I hope you are keeping pretty fit and that with the beginning of the era of Silence you will have more breathing time. Mother gave me all your kind messages, which are heartily reciprocated. Do not dream of answering this til you are much less busy.
With every good wish I am,
Yours fraternally.
F[iat] P[ax].
Mother said you wanted to see my alleged 'beautiful' ritual, a sleezy thing it looks to me, but I won't send it on for a little. I want you to annotate it. Perhaps we will do it all over again, if it won't become too dog-faced a demon.
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