Leah Hirsig Diary Entry

Tuesday, 28 October 1924

 

 

 

"The slaying of the Peacock". This seems to me to unite the two words.

 

8 Place Jean Baptiste le Clement

     

Oct. 28/[19]24 (Late at night)

    

(Here since Oct. 17/[19]24 e.v.)

     

Mudd's [Norman Mudd] eye has gone quite bad. I have put several cold water compresses on it and he is lying down on the couch at the window.

     

(Here follows a list if the things here—unnecessary to note.)

     

Zed [Norman Mudd] sleeps. I am prepared for whatever may happen. We shall see.

     

A cup of coffee and Zipze.

     

Zed wakes and says "The Cids' Colade."

     

Now he snores again.

     

Dawn—grey sky.

     

Dorothy's [Dorothy Olsen] perfume as incense—then "Unity uttermost".

     

The people upstairs have been up and about for some time—it must be between 5.30 and 6 A.M. Wednesday Oct. 29.

     

O.P.V. [Norman Mudd] seems hopelessly helpless—There's no use planning what to do with him later—I'll just have to use my wits—no use reasoning about it now—

     

1st. "Cordon, s'il vous plait". Now for a few more—then! ?

     

Eye became quite O.K.—and out at ? hour.

     

5.? P.M. What a day!

     

Letter from Ninette [Ninette Shumway]. Good girl.

 

 

Unfinished letter find it rather amusing and also not so bad, so send it on. ([P.S.] but I didn't—Dec. 8/[19]24)

Paris

Oct. 24, 1924 e.v.

 

To Sir Aleister Crowley!

Edward Alexander Crowley Esq.

To Mega Therion and all the rest.

 

Saluti

 

The Sir means as little to me as "Lord" Beaverbrook—Aleister is a mere wish phantasm (all wrong except as a nom de plume) and even Emily Bishop may have been unfaithful!

     

The question remains "Who are you?" For practical purposes you are Ed.[ward] Alex[ander] C.[rowley] legally, and Aleister Crowley as a writer. What you'd better do is find out who you are really, just as we'd better all find out including your dear daughter V.L. [Adam Murray].

     

At present you seem to be a very stupid young bridegroom bent on providing your bride with rich garments etc. but not having made proper preparations beforehand. It is extremely unwise for a young man to marry in haste—he usually doesn't even have the leisure in which to repent. —the siren doesn't give him a chance. You are no more a Magus than you are a cunt. You seem to disregard all Holy books etc. in your sexual stupidity. They may be partly wrong but not entirely. You seem also to forget that Babalon makes the bridge for the Abyss—or something to that effect (Your vellum copy of 30 Aethyrs is tied up for the lack of 333 francs)—and that you never crossed it really any more than Achad [Charles Stansfeld Jones] did. If you can find a filthier female to represent Babalon (myself, thank you) at the moment, do so.

     

Your extremely pathetic letter saying you are on your way to Tozeur with 100 francs if you are lucky etc. arrived to-day. This scribble is due partly to that bit of pathos tho' not entirely. In fact, as I pause to eat a peasant soup made in my little nest (I have one now, have you?) I find that I too have any number of things to say to you but am not nearly angry or interested enough to say them. I don't suppose I ever will be and they will keep till you recover.

     

A word for Astrid [Dorothy Olsen]—I shall refrain from quoting otherwise—V.43 CAP.111 The Threefold Book of the Law. Same applies to me except I'm on V.44 now.

     

It is really most amusing to hear you say "if so and so hadn't done this and that, thus and so wouldn't have happened" (it's always about money, of course). And you writing me that we must start anew and never mind about the past etc. Poet—and you're not that for you are a Hermit really—the Hermit—but you can't seem to get past the barrier. I'm sure even Ethyl [Ether] wouldn't help you.

 

Another unfinished one.

Paris,

Oct. 26, 1924 e.v.

 

Care Frater,

 

Again, I take letters etc. as they came and quite regardless of dates.

    

1. Telegram—I knew about the ruby ring before I got it but what does "HANS CAPUEL" mean?

     

2. P[ost] C[ard]—W[ar] E[ngine] "I will give you a war engine". Mind your own business—Part of the war engine at present is 'the look of a Magician'. We are merely preparing for the war to come. The idea of the W.E. is like everything else; one must get it gradually in whatever form one needs it. You cannot take the injunctions literally (not yet) and all will come in time.

     

Re Hag. London is probably terribly tied up. Please do not communicate directly with any one outside Aumont [Gerard Aumont] and Ninette [Ninette Shumway] if you wish to get things going[1] and remember that now time is longer means hour or day—Also, I object to the term "The Gods"—it should be "Gods" which means Thelemites. We need to break away from all old superstitions etc. etc. and work in the clear light of Ra-Hoor-Khuit. This brings me to the next letter where you say if thus and so hadn't happened, if O.P.V. [Norman Mudd] had done this and that etc. etc.  You yourself said we must start on new lines. Every error made so far had helped to push us to something which seems humanly impossible.

 

 

Oct. 28

 

P.[ost] cards, perfume and letter from Nefta from you and Dorothy [Dorothy Olsen] rec[eive]d.

 

 

1. I do not read Arabic—very pretty lo look at.

     

2. Not specially interested in Grech's hotel being spoilt or cafés—glad the oasis is there. What about the Corbeille?

     

3. Yours of Oct. 20—"The law is for all"—(This with re to roy and Mc. B.)

     

4. I've caught more than O.P.V.'s insanity. Perhaps 2 storks will = 1 crane. At any rate, this is the time for the slaying of the peacock "Pera". O.P.V. is in Paris—here and there and very anxious to get back to London.

     

You keep on wasting time and energy either about "no cash" or "just enough cash" or "just at the right moment".

     

Re O.P.V. and job—I agree and he probably will—never mind what you said at first. You can't eat your pie and keep it.

     

I ignore the "had he done thus and so" part—You are still idiot enough to believe the Gods were going to provide you with a rainbow (steps, of course hidden—or perhaps an escalator) straight to Valhalla.

     

You say you are wiping that out of your mind—better get it out of your heart.

     

Yes, look ahead. But unless you break the rules "right" you won't get anything to happen. Broken rules now mean getting rid of all the old rituals etc. etc. magical weapons etc. etc. and a complete new system formed for the New Order (of Thelemites).

     

Heart-soreness has not filled my stomach nor kept me warm; and when you left me, as you did to go on my own, I began to do so. When I want your help magically I shall tell you about it. For the present get Oedipus and other things which belong to the old superstitions—which are only part truth—out of your mind.

     

I have got to work out my own Magick and if I go wrong I am ready to take the consequences.

     

You see, you have never really trusted any one in your whole life.

     

You have put me on my own and I intend to go on, finding out things as I go on.

     

You have also relieved me of a very great responsibility by writing to V.L. in the strain you have. I have nothing further to say to him unless he chooses to ask my advice.

     

As to the property you left in my charge—I have rescued what I could—sold what I needed to sell and hold myself responsible to you for such as I can keep or get back if possible.

     

The one thing I am responsible for is the MS. of The Threefold Book of the Law.

 

 

Yours of Oct. 17.

 

Please spare me these "ways of the Gods" outbursts—they are so stupid and boring. I know all about getting "just enough" or "doing without" and so on.

     

And you—"whirl of old memorie"—and such trash when you have something to go forward to—

     

Again you rave—Why should Astrid know or realize her importance just now? Take care of her and get on with your work.

     

I do not quite understand the position—you are worried about O.P.V. etc.—he has certain instructions—V.L. has contradictory ones—I have none—If you expect to get anything done—you will have to come and do it yourself—No one has any authority—It may of course be the thing for the present. I don't know but by the time you get this letter you will perhaps see clearly what to do.

     

You ask me to define O.P.V.'s functions clearly—I shall attempt to do so—

     

You also state that if you have any further trouble with him he "just can't represent the idea of the G[reat] W[ork] at all".

     

Which Great Work? Besides, who are you? That is the problem.

     

I'm making a man of him and what you need is to have me help to make one of you.

     

There are a few more scribbles that I can't wade through now. I'll send them on or pass on to O.P.V.

     

A little advice—you have raised V.L. to the position where his venerable beard touches the Anus of J[esus] C[hrist]—You'd better begin to pull down a bit or there will be trouble. My 8º=3o no longer works with him.

     

These two letters are marked "not sent keep as record"

 

 

1—[P.S.] Oct. 28 Make some proper arrangement.

 

 

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