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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Gerald Yorke
55 Avenue de Suffren, Paris
16th March, 1929
Mr. Gerald Yorke, 9, Mansfield Street, LONDON, W.1.
Care Frater:
After a severe excess of delirium last night I knocked myself out completely with a hypnotic, with the result that I slept continuously until 10 o'clock this morning, and I am still a little under the drug, but I am able to take in hand your three letters, with the assistance of a young lady.
Whether it is the delirium, the drug, or the young lady, I don't pretend to say, but I'm going to take my gloves off and you are going to hear some home-truths.
Your letter of Tuesday is really difficult to believe as genuine, that an Englishman, and an Englishman who went through Eton, wrote it, shakes ones belief in the order of the Universe.
The basic assumption that there is no possibility of re-acting against this petty annoyance is so inconceivable that it leaves me wondering how you ever managed to get through a dinner party.
The feelings of your parents are going to suffer a rude shock. An enquiry into the whole circumstances will presumably se set on foot by the Anglo-American Press Association, where I have numerous friends.
In addition, I have engages Mons. Paul Boncour, one of the most celebrated and influential Advocats at the High Court.
Sooner or later the Press of the whole world will get wind of the affair, because, as you know, I am decidedly photogenic, in a journalistic sense, and if you think that the sleuths are going to leave a mystery man dodging about in the background, you little know the Press.
All Paris is talking about the affair, and it should be over in London by this week-end at latest. People will be pointing at you in Clubs and places where they play Bridge, and the only possible course for you is to hold your head high. If you slink out of Pratts leaving your chop untasted on hearing a word about the blackman, you will only be considered guilty, and just because you have been the mainspring and the reviver of the whole business, you will have to carry it off better even than myself.
It is for this reason that to step aside would be the plainest imbecility.
Of course, the truth will triumph in the end, but why you should suppose that my life has anything to do with it I fail to follow. What about your life time? After all you know I may have to stop in this stupid world for another quarter of a century, and you may die in the course of the next ten minutes. Besides, if you did not, and I popped off next week, it would not alter the situation.
You have the pitiful delusion of the rich that money can accomplish anything; money never accomplished anything yet; the things which are to be accomplished may need money but that is another matter altogether.
The disc is the fourth of the weapon, what you need is a wand, not a sword.
Your remarks about Regardie [Israel Regardie] are equally futile. He came to me astonishingly ignorant of the world, and I gave him full value for this work, but he is now in a position where he can spit on you, especially as Brussels Sprouts are excellent for generating saliva. Don't you worry about him. He is a little man alright, and it is not inconceivable that he should get twelve million Jews at his back.
There is no use in discussing Book 4 Part 3 [Magick in Theory and Practice]. Your magical oath is to see that it is published, and if you cannot see that all this rumpus is going to make it sell by the thousand, I despair of your business intelligence.
I do not think you will do yourself any good by having the manuscript stored by Arthur Dixon. When the Police raid you, as they will probably do at any moment, they will very soon find out what has happened, and the safest place for them to find it is in a prominent position of your shelves.
I will refrain from any observations about the oath by a probationer.
Your letter of Wednesday. Your news from New York and Los Angeles was not unwelcome. The cash should be transmitted by telegraph.
I repeat my wish that you should read your Bible—"So long hast thou been with me, and yet thou hast not known me Phillip".
My faith is fixed as a flint to go to Jerusalem, and my object will be purely and simply to show up the whole business. The date of my journey is, of course, uncertain, but your idea that I should expose my loyal friend to further humiliation is really unworthy.
Your ideas about my solvency show a great lack of perspicacity. The book on Magic and the Memoirs [The Confessions of Aleister Crowley] will obviously get a great boost through this publicity. The incident really could not have occurred at a better time.
Your reiterated declarations of cowardice and disloyalty do not make any difference. If you do not go into the business bald-headed, you will be shoved into it from behind. Your failure to see this is absolutely pitiful.
The real accusation is simply Black Magic, and that cannot be proved or disproved. It is just the same as throwing a witch into the water, and if she drowns she is innocent, and if she swims she is a witch.
I cannot find anybody to whom I sold cocaine, and the corpses of all the ladies that I murdered are equally elusive.
This is why you are responsible for the whole trouble, because you gave Hunt [Carl de Vidal Hunt] his handle. You let him make you drunk and you babbled about invocations and thoth and so on.
I am quite aware that this is not a crime, but it is a handle on which to base a story of dark doings.
I would have you bear in mind that this is not an expulsion. It is a refusal to authorise residence, and 1. Aumont [Gerard Aumont], who has had a great deal of experience of the ways that are dark and the tricks that vain in Government circles, feels quite sure that we are absolutely clean handed with the Prefecture of Police, and that the blow from the Minister of the Interior was set in motion by the whisper of some personal friend inspired by Hunt, who simply said 'while, of course there is nothing against these people, it would be very convenient to me if you upset their applecart'.
Your letter of Thursday. I was very glad to get this. It looks as if you were plucking up a little courage. You made a big mistake in not coming over this week-end. Half an hour's talk and a few interviews would have done more than many letters.
You will have to borrow money next week, and the sum had better be about £2,000. It will all come back from the Memoirs or the "Magic". The one important issue is the Showdown, and with you influence you could force it on. People like Rosebery and Leconfield have only got to ask a question in Parliament, or have it asked, to make a thorough stink.
I have engaged Mons. Paul Boncour, who is not merely a Deputy, but a man of extraordinary back-stairs influence, and it is quite on the cards that the "réfus de séjourt" will be annulled at any moment.
The President of the Chess Club is also going to try to arrange for an interview with Sir William Tyrrell, the Ambassador.
We have got about a week to work on.
I really cannot see you losing your Directorship on the ground that you are acting dishonourably.
I will not believe that the spirit of fair play is altogether dead in England. I even believe that the man who blew on the spark might find himself applauded by quite a lot of responsible people.
In any case I do not know why you should expect to grow up to adultship in the hands of a wet nurse. The first thing I had to do was to throw up my career and fortune and wander in the desolate places of the earth, undertaking every kind of hardship. You cannot expect any different education. It is the same in sport, you have got to accept the conditions and the risks, and you either win out or you go under, but I did win, and the most important worlds records in mountaineering were not made by my sitting at my fireside.
These are the facts that one has got to face, not the ones that you suppose. Many a homeless wastral is now a Magnate on Wall Street, and many a Mother's baby is carrying a Sandwich Board.
Any money that arrives should be sent to the Bankers Trust, and I will keep them advised of my address in case I change it, but I would not be surprised if next month did not still find me in Paris.
Yours fraternally
666
P.S. The English Police asked Regardie a lot of questions about you. They also stole a letter that you wrote to M. You poor friend, it is your own skin that is going to be scorched, unless you turn on these idiots and rend them.
P.S.S.
In order to save time this letter has been mailed without being read.
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