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Correspondence from Marcelo Motta to Karl Germer
435, Reymond Building Baton Rouge 2, La.
May 30, 1959
Dear Karl:
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
The information you give about printing [Liber Aleph] is inadequate. Do you have a printer lined up? What will be the minimum time in which he will be able to print the edition? Who will be in charge of distribution? You speak of $1200.00, then of $1800.00. Which is the exact amount you will need in order to publish your five hundred? I am not interested in profits or return of my investment for myself. My concern is totally with A.C.'s unpublished books. We shall speak of this again when I have something concrete to offer you. But I need the above information. I am working. If I get money, you will be supplied according to your needs and my means.
About Mrs. Germer [Sascha Germer]. Your personal relationship with her is your affair and yours alone. But changes in your relationship with me due to her influence are my affair. You take a tone with me as if I spent my hours slandering her and my letters accusing her. Are you sure you are not confusing me with somebody else?
That there has been, or there is, a quarrel between Mrs. Germer and me cannot be denied. The quarrel is not of my conscious making, and for your sake only—which was a mistake—I have made several conciliatory advances that were repulsed. As a result, I have developed a conscious dislike for her. It is a natural and human thing, for your information.
I do not care if she does not like me. But for sake of the fulfillment of that part of my Will that has to do with you, I want to be assured of no interference of her part between you and me. If you tell me that there is no interference, or if you make sure for yourself that there is none, I am satisfied and I shall not touch the subject again.
There has never been any question in my mind that Mrs. Germer is a woman superior to any of the so-called Sisters of the Order—what Order?—that I am unfortunate enough to have met. Nevertheless, she is still a woman. You wish to publish Liber Aleph. You must know what Therion has to say about the nature of women, even the best. To me, Mrs. Germer's goodness is but a reflection of her master's worth. To each Sun his Moon. Shine clear, Brother!
You have over a period of years suspected me of the most surprising and far-fetched crimes. In succession: You thought I was an F.B.I. agent planted on you as a spy. You thought I was in cahoots with that overblown Yogin in New York. You thought I was in cahoots with some undetermined Jesuit priest in Chicago. You have suspected me of intercepting and opening your mail in Barstow, and for all I know, you still do. You have suspected me, and probably still do, of being the tool of Culling [Louis Culling], another overblown idiot that you sicked on me yourself when you were—apparently—enthusiastic about him.
What I want to know is: Did you conceive of all these bright ideas by your own sweet self, or did you have help?
Either way, you have shown yourself a formidable ass. You only mentioned your suspicions to me once they were wavering or forgotten. Not once did you give me a chance to try to prove my innocence. Apparently, you considered me bright enough to fabricate proofs if I were guilty. As a result of your suspicions, at crucial moments when I depended on you for guidance you were reticent or you actually lied, thereby damaging my own progress, which is also yours.
Well, there is no longer such danger, since I intend to follow my own weak light from now on. But there is danger of, in case I become prosperous enough to help publication of A.C.'s work, your suspicions, spontaneous or induced, interfering with that publication. You hold, ironically enough, a dagger over my head in that I want to see those books published, and I want copies for my own. If it were not for that, I assure you I would ceased communicating with you some time ago.
So, don't give me warnings or threaten to unleash lightning over my young head. I have braved greater Gods than yourself, and I shall do so in the future. I will speak of whatever I please and whoever I please anytime I please, and you shall take it whether you like it or not. For that matter, if you handled your wife with competence, I would have no reason to speak of her. And certainly there is no justification for your getting angry with me because your household is leaking. Are you a Thelemite, or a bourgeois fool? You are my Master in the Las as long as it pleases me to accept you as such. But master of my soul, my tongue or my reason you are not, and shall never be.
I shall write to you again when I have something constructive to offer, such as money. Until then, do likewise with me! Your late letters have been far from brotherly, far from inspiring and far from polite.
Love is the law, love under will.
Fraternally,
M.
P.S. I sent the Blue Equinox [Equinox Vol. III, No. 1] back to you with some other books or manuscripts some time in the last twenty months. Look elsewhere for a thief.
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