|
Correspondence from David Curwen to Aleister Crowley
7a Melcombe Street Baker Street, NW1
10/12/45
Aleister Crowley Esq.
Dear Brother Crowley,
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Herewith as arranged 35 [guineas]. I am sending them quite freely, as I am confident that they will arrive safely under registered cover. I do not want to add any trouble to you.
Your Liber Aleph and long letter arrived last week and I am much obliged to you for them. Both your letter and Liber Aleph are intensely interesting. If I have not replied with my usual haste, it is because the enclosure had to go, and I have been very busy and could not "make it."
However, although there is a volume I wish to say to you, I have not the time to do so. The irony of it is, that I am sure that when I see you, I will have nothing to say; for although I write so prolifically, unless I am drawn out, I, as I told you, am shy and reserved.
And in connection with this, and because in the first few pages of Liber Aleph, you have devoted a few pages to dreams, or let us say visions; and because this matter affects you, personally, I want to tell you of a dream of mine.
A week or so back. In the large hall of a house, you stood at the top of the stairs, looking over the bannisters. You stood at the part, on the level which runs parallel to the rooms. I saw you standing there, and you saw me of course, and I was delighted. I rushed up the stairs to tell you something, or show you something, I don't know which. It was the first time I had seen you. As I approached, you did something. There was a sort of flash, not of fire, but a sort of nothingness, in which you were blotted out. I was horrified, I received a shock; and shouted out loudly in horror, and the sound of my voice woke me. I was not at all happy about that. It takes me back to years ago, when I attended "Dion Fortune's" meetings. She was a sort of disciple of yours, at least she says [so] (whether you knew it or not). I intended to join her. But that night that I had a dream of horror. I felt it was connected with the damp. A terrific square hole was dug into the earth, supported by stout wooden uprights. I went near to do something in it. The hole was foul, stinking, the uprights gave way, the hole collapsed; I was horrified. There was something vile about it all. I never went near her again. I felt that I had brought something away with me on my visit to her, some filthy invisible entity. And since reading Liber Aleph, or rather part of it, I have had another unusual dream (Really they are not dreams at all). I was madly slashing at a snake's head with a stick. I smashed the head so that blue blood began to flow. I have not the faintest intuition what the meaning can be of this. Enough of this sort of talk. I tell you more out of interest to you, than usefulness.
Liber Aleph brings me joy to read. It is a summary of all I have studied and know. I understand every word you mean, I think. I am glad I got it from you. How it would affect others without any previous knowledge on the subject I do not know.
My Motto will be "I trust in God" in Hebrew. On the opposite side to this page, I have tried to explain. Another that appeals to me was, "I learn to teach" but now I prefer the first.
Everything in your kind long letter was of great interest to me. As for Liber Legis, do you want to know why I never liked it? It is because for years, I have but to read it, and I think of Hitler and all his works. Of this I am strongly impressed.
And then you tell me this Küntzel's [Martha Küntzel] story, and I find my fears were true and it bears out what I have been aware of all the time, although not definitely. Of this and other matters, I will speak to you when I see you.
However, "To know all is to forgive all" and thus I will wait until I know more. I was always my firm opinion that the Hitler success was fundamentally magic, but sadly for the world, it was the black against the white, and luckily for the world, white won.
I do not want to say more for the present, as I am afraid that I may [say] something to offend. You see I am very frank, and if it kills me, I never pretend what I do not feel. All the same, I hope never to say anything that will give offence.
Kindest regards and best wishes. Expect me Sunday as agreed.
Your sincerely,
D. Curwen
|
