What magic feels like
“there may very likely be divine spirits here, tutelary heroes, various kinds of nymphs and ancient gods…” Hypnerotomachia Polifili
I have been looking through my Betz PGM for spells related to Hermes. The first I found was simple and incomplete. I liked it, that is what counts. It consisted of a series of characters that are to be written ‘on gold with a bronze stele…’ That might be important, I don’t know. I wrote out the characters on strips of black origami paper. On the back I wrote the invocation:
“THOOUSA! Bring me strength, victory, and influence!”
The spells instructions are to wear the strips of ‘papyrus’ in your sandals. I made a pair of them for every pair of regular shoes I wear, placed them beneath the sole insert, and went to bed. The next day was not only going to be astrologically poignant, but it would also be a clear day and according to the Clavicula a cloudless sky with no wind is the best possible weather for magic.
The morning was beautiful. I rose before dawn (which was still, ostensibly Tuesday) and had a bit of coffee and grits and set about finding some deeper invocations to Hermes, writing them down in my journal. Working with the PGM has to be one of the most Lovecraftian magical acts. Like his famed Necronomicon, there are only fragments offered us. Many of the spells aren’t complete. There is also an overwhelming number of instances where the consonants *CHTH- are in direct juxtaposition with one another. It is also somewhat refreshing to work with a seemingly incomplete document. The desire to follow the system exactly is frustrated and the constraints engendered by the fragmentary nature of the text necessitate the type of creativity real hedge witchery requires.
As the sun rose, I continued to work with the text, another act that aligns well with the Lovecraftian aesthetic. There are more instances of working with a text, or hunting down a text, or discovering a magical text, than there are actual rituals like the one exhibited in the end of the Dunwich Horror.
This is the first clear bright morning we’ve had in my corner of the globe so far this year. Looking away from the text I found floating in the air, also for the first time this season, little flecks of white from the cottonwood trees along the river corridor. I thought to myself at that moment:
“This is what magic feels like.”
The actual ritual to Hermes, which is really just a ‘ringing up,’ in effect, a ‘cold call,’ I plan on enacting tomorrow morning in the small hours before dawn, when most of the world is asleep and there is little human activity, is also optimum for spellcraft. I readied myself for the day, and when I pulled on my shoes I said aloud the invocation on the strips I’d placed inside them. The feeling was distinct. I stood and although I couldn’t physically feel the charms, I felt them coming up through the soles of my feet, without question. I don’t know why I didn’t put it together before, but the shoes are a perfect place for a charm for Hermes, he of the winged sandals. There is also something imminently satisfying about enchanting something so mundane and walking among humans with charms to this most ancient god-form between you and the earth. I thought to myself again as I pulled on my shoes and quietly said again to myself:
“This is what magic feels like.”
I found, eventually, three spells that included Hermes, two short and one lengthy invocation. The text states they are all intended as ‘love spells,’ but I am taking that with a grain of salt — that is an academician’s interpretation. The context of the spells are requests for power, requests to bring Hermes into your life, repeating his names, what he likes to be offered. They are much more than love spells, although I have no doubt they were used as such. To this magician’s mind it is an easy jump between love and prosperity spellcraft, so I am tuning the spells towards that end. I’ve quoted it in it’s entirety below:
“THOOUTH, grant me strength, victory, and influence! As Hermes turns and papyrus becomes reality, influence the minds and hearts I seek swiftly and immediately! Lord Hermes, come as fetuses to wombs. Bring favor, sustenance, victory, prosperity, elegance, and strength. In Heaven, your names are: LAMPHTHEN OUOTHI OUASTHEN OUOTHI OAMENOTH ENTHOMOUCH. In the east, you're an Ibis; west, a dog-faced baboon; north, a serpent; south, a wolf. Your plant is the grape, and your wood: ebony. From Hermopolis, Hermes, many-named, knowledgeable of hidden things, serve well. Make me agreeable worldwide. Compel generosity towards me. Your foreign names: PHARNATHAR BARACHEL CHTHA. Isis invoked you for favor and victory; I, NN, do the same! Grant favor, form, and beauty. Calm all and grant strength, wealth, and eternal protection from harm. Bring favor, victory, and prosperity. I am your image; your plight is mine. Your true name: OSERGARIACH NOMAPHI, symbolizing lunar days and world rulers, aligning with the year's days. ABRASAX, I know you, you know me. Bring Good Fortune and Good Daimon swiftly! PHTHORON PHTHIONE THOYTH IAO SABAOTH ADONAIE ABLANATHANABLE AKRAMMACHAMAREI, 365. Grant me business, favor, prosperity, and elegance immediately!"
Our Lovecraft tale for this first entry, The Strange High House in the Mist, has me in a classicist mood, and when that happens, I gravitate back to the Hypnerotomachia Polifili for inspiration and synchronicity. Polifilus, the protagonist, is moving from one space, a pitch-dark tunnel filled with fear and the promise of dragons, into the air via an opening in a cliff face. He pontificates about the promise of this new space:
“There may very likely be divine spirits here, tutelary heroes, various kinds of nymphs, and ancient gods…”
I chose this for my opening quote this week because, as we will see as we move into the tale, we will be presented with a ‘tutelary hero,’ the Bearded Storyteller. Poliphilus is propelled forward by a feeling, moved out of the darkness and towards the light by a force other than his own will:
“I was like a captive, continually goaded onwards, as my bold heart invited me to follow wherever frivolous Fortune led, even if I should collapse in the attempt.”
As I myself are goaded forward through this week, with Hermes’ charms burning through into my feet, I can’t help but feel this same force. Magic is a calling; when one is in its grasp, it never feels like a burden. It always feels like the ‘Flow’ state, as described by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi:
“a state of concentration or complete absorption with the activity at hand and the situation… a state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter…”
Poliphilus is exiting a tunnel, the tunnel is a primary element in the Lovecraftian Magic aesthetic, through the mouth of what once was a grand structure:
“The place served only for exiting, not for returning, though it was easy enough for me to discern it because it was all surrounded by the thick, dark foliage that would prevent others from knowing it was there. It was inside a dell with crags stretching above, perpetually dimmed by thing fogs that seemed darker to me than the one which concealed the divine birth on Delos. On departing from this leafy, obstructed portal, I descended some way down the slope and came to a thick copse of chestnuts at the foot of the mountain, which I suspected to be a dwelling place of Pan or Sylvanus.”
This refers to Leto, the mother of Apollo and Artemis, and the birth of the twins. In reading the myth of Delos, a floating island brought forth from the depths by Zeus, I can’t help thinking of the tales of Dagon and The Call of Cthulhu. Here, we stumble upon more evidence of the deep classical encoding of Lovecraft’s tales.
In Lovecraft’s ‘The Strange High House in the Mist,’ the protagonist is a seeker of knowledge and he passes through thick copses of wood, up and down an impassable cliff face to reach and return from obtaining his goal.
Revisiting the "Hypnerotomachia," during his departure from a subterranean mountain, Polifilus comes across an intriguing inscription. This exploration uncovers noble Egyptian hieroglyphs, which he interprets as "PATIENCE IS THE ORNAMENT, GUARDIAN AND PROTECTOR OF LIFE." On the opposing side, he observes a refined carving: a circle and an anchor entwined by a dolphin, symbolizing the adage "Always hasten slowly." Interestingly, this mirrors the printer’s mark of Aldus Manutius, the publisher of "Hypnerotomachia Polifili." It raises the question: Was this inclusion original to the text or a deliberate addition by the publisher? Considering the Aldine Press's prominence in publishing magical and related texts in 16th century Venice, this blend of a dream journal and mythopoeic narrative with the printer's mark is quite fascinating.
Italo Calvino, is renowned for weaving Tarot symbolism into his fiction. In his 'Six Memos for the Next Millennium,' Italo delves deeply into how the Aldine Press’ printer's mark influences his fictional work. Following this exploration, the "Hypnerotomachia" exhibits typographic artistry by narrowing prose into an inverted pyramid at the end of a significant section, a technique also found in the PGM but used in a talismanic context.
These instances exemplify what we now term 'concrete poetry' or 'shape poetry.' Originating as a form of poetic presentation in 2nd century BCE Greek Alexandria, this style predates its formal naming. Its presence in the PGM provides insights into the intersections between experimental fiction (as seen in the text formatting in "House of Leaves"), concrete poetry, and, from a broader perspective, the religious art of micrography.
Returning to our examination of Lovecraft, we find that, the protagonist, a philosophy professor named Thomas Olney, relocates his family to Kingsport. This tale has a direct link to the PGM, specifically through the mention of the Great Bear, a key element in several PGM charms and spells, and a gateway to Lovecraftian Spirit Forms.
The story's central theme revolves around an ancient house situated on the aforementioned cliff, a place of mystery and fear for the locals. This house, a symbol often representing the mind in dreams or used as a mnemonic device, stands in stark contrast to the ocean, described as a realm of mythical entities like the leviathan and titan grottoes. This imagery invokes the mythological Thoosa, the mother of sea monsters, potentially inspiring Lovecraft's Lovecraftian Spirits and the Mother of Abominations.
Intriguingly, the tale suggests that one entity has inhabited this ancient house for centuries. Even the Terrible Old Man, a character known for his peculiarities and longevity and featured in another Lovecraft tale, acknowledges the unchanged nature of these phenomena, harkening back to times when governors like Belcher, Shirly, Pownall, or Bernard ruled Massachusetts-Bay. This deep-rooted historical connection adds to the enigmatic allure of the house and its ties to the mystical and the unknown.
Thomas Olney’s journey between Kingsport and Arkham (what we would know as Providence) leads to the identification of Kingsport as Narragansett, Rhode Island. Two notable houses in this area are Druidsdream and Dunmere, with the latter, located by the ocean, being the likelier setting for 'The Strange High House in the Mist' due to its age and location. Dunmere, meaning 'water of the hills', aligns with the mist-covered cliffs of Kingsport and now stands as a ruin, fitting into the contemporary Lovecraftian Magical Aesthetic.
The story progresses to Olney's arduous climb up the nameless cliff, leading past another Lovecraftian Gate, 'Hooper’s Pond', likely representing Mashapaug Pond, a feature of Kingsport
Upon reaching the house, Olney encounters its inhabitant, a mysterious, ancient figure with a phosphorescent gaze and clad in old sea-garments. This figure, potentially Odysseus, narrates tales of ancient times, including Atlantis's kings, Poseidonis's temple, and primeval chaos preceding gods and Elder Ones. This cosmogony places Lovecraft's spirit forms as pre-Atlantean, ancient entities predating human and mammalian existence.
The story culminates with enigmatic rituals and the arrival of mystical beings in the house, including Neptune and Nodens, Lord of the Great Abyss, amidst golden flames and deep-sea memories. This blending of myth, mystery, and cosmic horror creates a rich, layered narrative that delves deep into Lovecraft's unique mythos and its connections to ancient lore and esoteric knowledge.
The bearded man, a storyteller, is positioned in a spiritual hierarchy. He invokes other spirit forms, such as Neptune and his ancestor Nodens, within a hierarchy based on their age and levels of unknowability. This concept, similar to practices in Goetia where intermediaries relay the magician’s requests, highlights a technology of spiritual hierarchy.
The protagonist, Thomas Olney, descends from the cliff after meeting the gods in the Strange High House in the Mist, fundamentally transformed. The tale warns of the dangers of magical thinking, as expressed by the citizens of Kingsport who fear the loss of their young men to the allure of the unknown, symbolized by the high peaked cottage.
The Bearded Seaman, the primary spirit form accessible through dreams, bridges the gap between the wisdom of Neptune and Nodens and the ordinary world. However, this exploration into the magical can lead to a loss of human will and drive, as symbolized by the Bearded Storyteller's fear of an ominous shadow. This fear is necessary to maintain humanity.
Donald Burleson, in ‘Disturbing the Universe’, reflects on this tale, focusing on the significance of the house's placement. He suggests that the house, both an outside structure and an inside space, represents a concept from the Tao Te Ching: the importance of nonbeing over being. The house's spatial discussion only occurs within its confines, emphasizing emptiness over fullness.
He also notes a curious reversal in Thomas Olney’s loss of wonder, which paradoxically elevates the people of Kingsport by suggesting that elevation leads to being brought low. Burleson draws parallels with the root kel- ('to hide') and Calypso from Greek mythology, returning to the theme of emptiness's predominance. He concludes that the story is thematically a vampire tale, with the townspeople fearing the loss of their youth to the mysterious powers of the house. This relationship between the victim (the townspeople) and the vampire (the house) is marked by strange inversions, where becoming a victim symbolically elevates one. The story suggests that the mystical powers drain wonder from the townspeople, akin to a vampire feasting, leaving a haunting impact on Kingsport.
Pulling Calypso out of his deconstruction as well as the metaphor of the house-as-vampire, certainly enriches our esoteric criticism. The connection of Calypso and the Bearded Seaman does not lend strength to my argument that he is, in fact, Odysseus, but it doesn’t hurt the argument either. If we are to imbricate the PGM over this tale, however, we see that there are a number of exercises where the Odyssey is used in bibliomantic divination in that document. Layering Odysseus over the Bearded Seaman seems more and more natural. Further, while vampirism is rare in Lovecraft, it is a welcome and unique metaphor that Burleson offers us, one that does not take much imagination to build into our growing aesthetic.
In our exploration of 'The Strange High House in the Mist,' we draw a parallel with the Tarot card, The Fool. This connection, initially surprising, becomes clear upon reflection. The Fool, a well-known figure in Tarot, represents beginnings, spontaneity, and the unknown journey. Our Bearded Seaman, akin to The Fool, ventures into and out of the house, symbolically stepping off the cliff into the unknown.
Sallie Nichols, in 'Jung and Tarot: An Archetypal Journey,' provides insights connecting The Fool to broader cultural and mythological contexts. She notes that in Greece, keeping a fool was believed to ward off the evil eye, similar to the Joker in playing cards, seen as 'the devil's pictures.' The Joker, like The Fool, bridges the everyday world and the imaginative realm of Tarot characters, reminiscent of Puck in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' moving freely between these worlds.
The connection between The Fool card and the Bearded Seaman in 'The Strange High House in the Mist' is profound. The Fool represents the beginning of a journey, stepping into the unknown, embodying curiosity and a sense of adventure. The Bearded Seaman, navigating between the realms of the known and the unknown, encapsulates these qualities. The philosopher's journey to the house, a metaphorical cliff-edge of the unknown, mirrors The Fool's step into the void. This narrative symbolizes the essence of magic – living in the liminal space between the everyday and the imagination, embracing the unknown, and embarking on a journey of re-enchantment and discovery. The Fool, thus, is not just a card in the Tarot deck, but a symbol of the journey we all undertake in search of magic, meaning, and understanding of the deeper mysteries of life and existence.
Unveiling the hidden parallels between 'The Strange High House in the Mist' and The Fool tarot card, this analysis illuminates the enigmatic dance of magic and mystery at the cliff's edge of reality and imagination.