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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Henri Birven
[EXTRACT]
[30 April 1930]
If a lighted cigarette is put into the mouth of a frog, he puffs and swells until he bursts. But does he think that he is the chosen vessel to bear the light of the Hidden Wisdom? Perhaps.
I think that I can do you no better service than to deflate you of the self-importance which makes you ridiculous to all who know you. Your letter gives me the opportunity. But first let me deal with the facts about our interviews. I came out to see you in your suburb, the first of my business meetings in Berlin. I thought this was to be a private conference. But it was a large party. (I took this, however, as a compliment.) But we could not talk. Therefore, in order to talk in private, I asked you alone to a private dinner in Mr. Germer's [Karl Germer] apartment. You arrived three quarters of an hour late, and brought, uninvited, a perfect stranger. Let me tell you plainly that this was a gross and intolerable breach of good manners—an absolute outrage on all conventions of decent behavior. So again we could not talk business.
The third time I tried to see you, you proposed that I should come to some vulgar noisy café; and (again!) you wished to bring along yet another stranger to prevent the possibility of our talking business! So much for that.
Your suggestion that I should ask permission to come to Berlin is grotesque megalomania. The ex-Kaiser himself would have had less impudent presumption. You add to your absurdity when you have the insolence to complain that I accept Dr. Krumm Heller's [Arnold Krumm-Heller] most agreeable invitation to his house without first conspiring with you! Let me tell you that I would travel a thousand miles to talk with a man of Dr. Krumm Heller's ability, whereas there seems little object in visiting some others but to marvel at the ways of Nature. Dr. Krumm Heller is a Mason of the same rank as myself, and had done far more for the Cause than ever you have. You are not even an apprentice.
As to my general business methods, I have no time to waste on petty laborious intrigues such as delight you.
As to the letter of 358 [Israel Regardie], you were guilty of gross and quite inexcusable mistakes in your article [about Crowley in Hain der Isis], and you should be grateful to him, whatever his age for having rapped you smartly over the knuckles.
Now then, hoping that I have recalled you to the road of modesty, I end by trusting that you will regain my esteem by apologizing for your abominably bad manners, and resolving for the future to obey my orders, without trying to think for yourself.
P.S. The dignity of the Publishing House which I represent—it is already over two whole weeks old—forbids me to condescend to visit you on its business.
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