Correspondence from David Curwen to Aleister Crowley

7a Melcombe Street

Baker St. NW1

May 7th, 1946

My Dear Brother Crowley "666"

When I wrote you last you were in a fix,

Have you done anything about the "Elixir"

I mean the good old Bhairavi Diksha

You told me then it was the Olla,

That kept you sweating around the collar;

But before your energies you further scatter,

You know you really owe me a letter.

Well, Greetings to you, my corresponding pal,

I sincerely hope you are keeping well:

In past times I know I have abused you,

Well, here is something to amuse you.

You see you are not the only poet,

But I'm not one, and don't I know it.

Just doggerel, you sneer; and you feel bloody,

I think we had better get down to study.

I suppose you are busy as usual getting the O.T.O. together again after the war. What is being done; can I be of any service? Or as you once so frankly told me, does the fact that I was born a Jew make this impossible? It seems to me you have been mixing with Jews all your life. A copy of your early poems has just come to hand that you gave a young lady, your then secretary about thirty years ago. (Miss Steinburg?^[1] I cannot remember the name, as the book is at home, and I am typing this in my office.) She remembers you well, oh, the orgies of those days, she says. You were coming to London, I believe, have you yet done so?

This letter is just to start something fresh, so with best wishes, I conclude.

Yours Sincerely and Fraternally,

David Curwen

1—Bertha Steinburg (b. 1892), a short-hand typist that probably worked for The Equinox or Wieland and Co.

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