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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Louis Umfreville Wilkinson
Feb 19 1945
"The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places"! The cooking is perfect and just what I like and what suits me. V.S. [Vernon Symonds] seems a trump, he and Johnnie [Johnnie Symonds] are to join me at Oliver's [Oliver Wilkinson] to-morrow night. A supper party of the Gods, I hope. I wrote this on the back of some notes that I had made for you from Thrawn Janet—thinking a half page would suffice. But I must tell you the joke the Gods played on me Sat[urday] afternoon. I walked into the Chess Club; only 2 men, very intent on their game. In comes another: I, being in a hurry, uncertain of bus times, accosted him at once. "Would you care for a game, sir?". He agreed and sat down. I said (luckily!) "I'm afraid I'm not very strong; I haven't played a serious game for a year". A.C. politely "Will you take the move, sir?" So we started. Pretty soon I began to think "There's something fishy about this. He's very slow at times; but somehow he seems to find the best move." Things got very tough. I found I had to play my damnedest—which I was in no condition to do; for one thing I was half frozen; no fire or other heat in the club. Things got tougher. At last, in a final clash, I found myself with a won game! He bowed slightly and walked off. I turned to one of the several men who were watching, which surprised me, and said: "Who was that gentleman I've been playing?" He said : "Jackson". I almost screamed: "Good God!" He went on to explain that he was the great E.N. Jackson, famous all over the world. A.C. "You're telling me". If that isn't a case of asking for it—I must have been under very specially Divine protection.
It was pretty parky down in Hastings on the point, with a stiff breeze blowing. I was lucky again to catch a bus with less than 5 minutes to wait. So the expected chill didn't happen, although royally tired I feel perfectly well.
I gave V.S. "Three Wishes" to read and he thinks the prologue and Act I very good. Hasn't read more. The dialogue especially attracted him.
Well I don't know why I'm dithering on like this: put it down to Sunday afternoon, coupled with base ingratitude to you for finding me this place.
I enclose the prospectus in case you haven't seen one.
Off your beat, I suppose, but not much more so than Aston, unless you have dates in Cambridge and East Anglia. Still it would be ideal for you (with or without Joan) to spend a week or so. I think that's about all I can think of at the moment: bless you, and the Gods send you here at an early date.
Dunno if you want plain idiocy of the Alfred Cygnet class? At Aston last year. Girl came flying across the meadows far form the road, very agitated; rushed at me with "Oh dear, I'm afraid I've lost my bus". A.C. helpfully: "Let's see! When did you miss it"?
Or rather rude repulse to a faddish bore. Went into his office this A.M. (Feb. 10) He has a Vegetarian Pamphlet and pushed it at me: nodded his head wisely and said "There's food for thought there". A.C. warmed at once: "Yes, but I want food for the body: give me a beefsteak".
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