|
Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Louis Umfreville Wilkinson
7th May, 1946
Dear Louis
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Thanks for yours of May 3rd which duly arrived on the morning of the 4th; a letter however from Bridlington dated May 1st arrived by the same post.
I am afraid that you are riding the goat of this Lodge, as Masons say in America. Although I know Jack Powys fairly well, and you very well indeed, and although I was perfectly familiar with the literary convention that you employed in Swan's Milk and Forth Beast!, I caught myself up not less than half-a-dozen times while I was reading the book making the assumption that Dexter was J.C.P. [John Cowper Powys]. (there is something funny about this, I think, as you appear to have a psycho-analyst on tap, you might ask him how he can account for it).
I wrote and told them so, which I hope will result in the sale of a good few copies in their baliwick.
All that remains is to get J.C.P. to write to them and say that you must certainly be under a grave misapprehension; for he recognises himself unmistakenly in Dexter. Alternatively, he might claim the authorship of the book and say that you had nothing to do with it except see it through the press. Or you might get Clifford Bax to put his nose in somewhere. We might end by constructing the literary conundrum of the century.
Lilliput, wanting a screed from me, sent down an assistant editor, John Symonds, last Friday; he brought a friend with him and we had a very pleasant day. In discussing my article I brought up my reputation for obscurity, and said to him "Now what should I do in the following case," and told them the story about 'The House in Lordship Lane' and the reference to James Lee's wife, about which I wrote you in my past.
Well, would you believe it, neither of these men attached any meaning whatever to the paragraph; but, like Miss K.[ingston], thought she would come in later in the story & make trouble. They had never heard of James Lee's wife, even when I told them that it was the title of what I thought was a very well-known poem by Browning, it awakened nothing whatever in their recollection.
This is not very helpful. Both these men were men of what I should call first-class education. Is Browning so far forgotten that nobody remembers anything of his writing except "The Ring and the Book" and possibly Sordello on account of the funny stories about that particular poem, and I suppose The Pied Piper.
I cannot understand the Essay running only to 2,000 words; that means only 6/ or 8 printed pages, and it will surely be swamped by the text of the Commentary: it is only about 2 per cent of the entire volume.
Of course there is perhaps a certain degree of misunderstanding on my part, due to the fact I have such an antagonism to the Commentary itself. My feeling about the whole thing is that I wish none of it had ever happened. I know this sounds absurd; but I have an absolutely passionate feeling of wanting to suppress myself. I cannot imagine why it should be so deep-seated, but there it is.
I daresay a good deal can be done by printing your Essay in extra large type, but you must make it absolutely clear that you (and not I) are the important person in the whole publication. I feel for one thing that if you do not do this the book will pass totally unnoticed as one of A.C.'s cranky notions.
With regard to coming down here either the 17th or the 24th will do, it is absolutely the same so far as I am concerned, but in either case you would have to sleep out as before, and in either case it would be wise for you to reserve the room definitely without delay. In your place I should phone on receipt of this.
We have so many things that have to be settled and that are a very long way ahead. I do not know what is happening to Jack Parsons, he seems to be in a peculiar state and it is about time I heard from him. I should have expected to get a letter before this asking why he has not received a copy of the Essay by now, as I have not told him that I had agreed to an indefinite delay—within reason.
By the way I want to ask your advice about that 'Ivory Gate.' The fourth line reads at present
"Lift The Adventure through the gate"
I think of changing it either to
"Life Adventure over the bar and through the gate"
or to "Lift The Adventure through the gate—Over the bar and through the gate—of Ivory."
My first suggestion breaks up the rhythm badly, but on the other hand it gives the exact sensation that one gets when one is surf riding at Waukiki. (I do not know whether you wandered so far afield when you were in California).
Love is the law, love under will.
Yours ever,
Aleister
P.S. Get the "Occult Review" for April as soon as you can. Best thing that's happened to us in 100 years; will help you too. Publishers: Wm Rider 68 Fleet St. Cost by post 1/1.
A.C.
|