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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Louis Umfreville Wilkinson
The Gardens Mid Warberry Road Torquay
Jan 27. [1941]
Dear Louis,
Most heartening to have your letter. It came at just the right moment—when I was beginning to be bored by staying in bed. Enough relapse to make me careful, and mixed bad weather removing temptation to anything so Wordworthian as an excursion. Mae West II looks after me extremely well. Annoying, though that the Tarot [The Book of Thoth] hangs fire; impossible to make plans of any sort. A feeling, too, that there may be happenings between now and end of March, when my lease expires. Instinct, moreover, to wait patiently upon the Lord; expect impulse to action will be unmistakable when it arrives. All this indulges laziness; my besetting virtue.
Can you translate "stories about falling asleep standing up" into French? Or tell me why publishers employ people to do translations when they are ignorant of idiom? (This comes from a Georges Simenon story: it doesn't quite rank with "[illegible] Breitling commence à vou claia", but is good enough to illustrate our bulldog methods of dealing with a foreign language.)
I am very happy about the Law of Thelema. It has always been my idea that you were the ideal man to link the message with the people; so I felt that I should not worry you about it, but rather let it ripen. We are now, I think, near the time when events themselves will force the issue. The paths leading backwards are all quietly closing; at any moment a word from you might set going an organized advance. The stored energy is overwhelming; on all sides it flows in action. All that is lacking is right interpretation of events. With this the weeds of sporadic revolution may wither. Casual upheavals, dealing with symptoms, disappoint. The world needs revolution in the root of life. This is already well at work, but must be brought up into consciousness so that the apparatus of intellect may be applied to it.
Write to me.
Yours,
Aleister.
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