Tag Archives: European History

Forbidden Rites

“Aaron Jason” Leitch reviews Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer’s Manual of the Fifteenth Century [Amazon, Bookshop, Publisher, Local Library] by Richard Kieckhefer, part of the Magic in History series, in the Journal of the Western Mystery Tradition archive.

Kieckhefer Forbidden Rites

Without a doubt, Penn State Press’ Magic in History series is the finest line of books on medieval occult literature produced to date. I have enjoyed reading each book in the series – not the least of which is Professor Kieckhefer’s Forbidden Rites. Whether you are a scholar examining the esotericism of medieval Europe, or a practitioner following a similar modern tradition, you will benefit immensely from a study of this book.

Professor Kieckhefer’s book is unique in that it does not attempt to gather and cross-compare a large number of medieval grimoires, which is the more common method – as we see in texts like Waite’s Book of Ceremonial Magic or my own work on the Solomonic cycle. Instead, the Professor dedicated Forbidden Rites to a single, and very obscure, German manuscript. Because the first couple of pages are missing, the name of the grimoire, as well as its author, is lost to history. Kieckhefer simply refers to it by its catalogue designation: Codex Latinus Monacensis 849 (CLM 849), or the more romantic title The Munich Handbook of Necromancy.

I find the scope of this book reaches far beyond one simple manuscript. As the Professor leads us through the spells of the Munich Handbook, we get to learn something about the life and shifting interests of a working medieval mage. In every chapter, Kieckhefer draws from an array of related medieval records – most of them anecdotes about magick, and even Inquisitorial court records – to illustrate the culture within which our anonymous German mage worked.

Professor Kieckhefer begins Forbidden Rites with an essay on the magick-book in medieval occultism. I found this information absolutely fascinating, as it is a neglected subject in nearly all modern studies of Solomonic mysticism. Of course, there are plenty of books about the contents of the grimoires, but there is precious little that explains the books themselves as living magickal beings. Meanwhile, Kieckhefer shares medieval anecdotes about grimoires that scream when burned, or spirits who accost the unwary who merely open such a book. He explains how a grimoire must be consecrated and kept as a magickal tool in its own right – as something of a familiar to its author.

The introductory chapter finishes with some discussion of the art of necromancy in medieval Munich. Here Professor Kieckhefer makes a distinction between the conjuration of the dead and of infernal spirits. Both are called “necromancy”, though Forbidden Rites focuses primarily upon the evocation of demons. This brief introduction to classical necromancy – which is continued in a later chapter – is vital to understanding any text of spirit conjuration.

In the next chapter, the Professor introduces and outlines the Munich Handbook itself. Herein, he proposes a distinction, though by no means a hard one, between “integrally composed” books, usually dedicated to occult theory, like Agrippa’s Three Books of Occult Philosophy, and “miscellanies,” collections of practical magick without much theory, usually compiled by one person over a period of time. Most of the grimoires we know today are of the miscellany type, including the Key of Solomon the King, Lemegeton, etc. Finally, Kieckhefer uses the contents of the Munich Handbook to conjecture about the author of the text – thereby creating a wonderful illustration of the life and times of a “typical medieval wizard.”

In chapters three through five, the Professor explores different aspects of the Munich Handbook, separating its spells into the three main headings of “Illusionist”, “Psychological”, and “Divinatory.” Illusionist experiments, or “experiences” as the Handbook sometimes refers to them, are intended to “trick” their target – such as producing illusory castles, banquets, armies, etc. Psychological experiments are intended to gain control over or influence the mind of their target – such as gaining favor at court, causing people to fall in or out of love, etc. This chapter also includes much on sympathetic image magick – such as the medieval wax image or “voodoo doll.” Finally, Divinatory experiments are intended to reveal secret information, or to gain knowledge of the past or future. Overall, these three categories cover the largest bulk of spells in all grimoires.

As I previously stated, the author examines each aspect of the Handbook alongside of anecdotal medieval records – throwing some light onto the motivations behind such magick, and placing them into their proper historical context. Unfortunately, space does not permit me to outline the contents of these chapters in depth. Suffice it to say that there is much practical magick found in these chapters, and the anecdotes are thrilling. (Indeed, I find myself wishing there were more collections of medieval stories about wizards at work, such as those found in Elizabeth Butler’s Ritual Magic.)

Having examined the intent and nature of the spells of the Munich Handbook, Kieckhefer then turns his attention in chapter six to the conjurations and exorcisms used throughout the grimoire. This is another incredible piece of historical scholarship, as the Professor explains the broader practice of exorcism in medieval Europe and compares it to grimoiric conjurations. He illustrates that exorcising malignant spirits from the sick is essentially the same art as spirit evocation. The techniques are identical, while only the intent is slightly different in each case. Perhaps best of all, he breaks down classical exorcisms right alongside of spirit conjurations, showing us exactly how they are composed to bring about their effects. I cannot overstress the importance of this chapter to anyone wishing to comprehend books like the Goetia, Heptameron, Magus, etc.

In chapter eight, Professor Kieckhefer explores the magickal seals found throughout the Munich Handbook. Most of these figures are for magickal circles drawn upon the ground, or drawn with blood on parchment to command the spirits. The author examines their forms, the words written within them, the images drawn upon them and their proper uses. Hands down, this is the best explanation of the magick circle I have ever read. For instance, no modern source has suggested such a circle could be held in the hand as a talisman – yet the practice does appear in various grimoires. It is also rare to learn that magickal circles were primarily an aspect of exorcism – where modern traditions tend to use them for every kind of magickal work.

Finally, Kieckhefer outlines an elaborate method of circle-creation found in the Munich Handbook. See the tables on pages 181-183, where the divine names and other considerations for the circle are given for each day of the week and hour of the day or night. Also see page 296ff for the material in its original Latin. He claims that this material draws much from the Picatrix, an Arabic book of astrological magick, but he does not mention that the whole of this section is also found in the Heptameron or The Magus. As it happens, this is my favored method of circle-creation, so I was excited to see it presented here from yet a third source. This also helps to illustrate the large influence the Picatrix has had on the medieval esoteric tradition.

To complete his book, Professor Kieckhefer includes the entire Latin text of the Munich Handbook of Necromancy. Unfortunately, he does not provide an English translation, except for the portions he translated for earlier chapters of his book, which fortunately are considerable. However, he has organized the manuscript very neatly, placing all recitations in italics, breaking the conjurations down into their component parts. That makes this book potentially very useful to someone who knows Latin and might wish to translate the text for the rest of us.

Though it may be redundant, I will say once more how highly, very highly, I recommend Professor Kieckhefer’s book Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer’s Manual of the Fifteenth Century. It makes no difference if you are a practitioner or an academic (or both), you will immensely enjoy this wonderful exploration of medieval magick, and you will find it foundational to your understanding of the magickal grimoires.

The Visionary and His World

Hermetic Library Fellow T Polyphilus reviews Charles Fourier: The Visionary and His World [Amazon, Abebooks, Local Library] by Jonathan Beecher.

Beecher Charles Fourier The Visionary and His World

Jonathan Beecher’s hefty intellectual biography of Charles Fourier (1772-1837) was groundbreaking when it was first published in 1986, and I doubt that it has been superseded by later scholarship in any significant respect. While reading, I often found myself comparing it to the historical study of Fourier’s contemporary William Blake by David Erdman, which was also structured along biographical lines. But while I found prior familiarity with Blake’s writing essential to appreciation of Erdman’s treatment, Beecher makes no such presumptions for Fourier, whose works have been so marginalized–if not outright suppressed–among general readers and scholars alike.

The book is divided into three major sections. The first, “Provincial Autodidact,” traces Fourier’s early life and first writings, his encounter with his “first disciple” Just Muiron, and the project of composing his magnum opus Traité de l’association domestique-agricole. The central part of Beecher’s volume goes into great detail on Fourier’s ideas as set forth in his works, including those that remained unpublished during his lifetime. In this section Beecher is often concerned to rescue Fourier from the Fourierists who later omitted and “improved” upon various details of their “master’s” great and unified conceptual edifice. The third part, “Parisian Prophet,” details the development of his following, his interaction with the ideas and adherents of the other early socialist leaders Saint-Simon and Owen, preliminary ventures in application of his theories, his eventual estrangement from the movement that his works had founded, and his demise.

Fourier claimed that his entire theory flowed from the “secret of the calculus of passionate attraction” (193)–earlier translators prefer “passional,” and I think this distinctive term has some merit. (It denotes “of the innate passions” rather than “in an impassioned manner,” although the two are certainly not exclusive of one another.) Proposing to do away entirely with individual repression in favor of expression of the passions, Fourier maintained that what was needed was the correct form of social organization, allowing the diversity of innate passions to cover the gamut of necessary work. The consequent development would be Harmony, a stage that would obsolete Civilization. Throughout his writings, Fourier consistently uses “civilized” as a pejorative to describe the ills of the society in which he lived. He was an unflinching feminist and an extreme sexual libertarian, and Beecher is not the only reader of Fourier to draw comparisons to Francois Rabelais on the one hand and Wilhelm Reich on the other.

At its most expansive, Fourier’s theory supplies a complete past and future history of the world, a distinctive cosmology, and a metaphysics including reincarnation. He anticipated that Harmony would produce beneficial changes in weather and climate as well as alterations in human physiognomy. His most exotic prognostications–and it is not always easy to tell if these are satirical–included the ideas that the oceans would become potable, the moon would vanish and be replaced with five new satellites, and humans would grow a new limb called the archibras–an immensely long prehensile tail with a small hand on the end of it.

As Beecher notes, the milieu in which Fourier’s intellect first matured included “esoteric Freemasonry and illuminism … Rosicrucianism, Swedenborgianism, and a variety of other mystical cults” (38), and while Fourier always presented his theory as sui generis, early adherents including Just Muiron were often attracted by what they perceived as similarities to Martinism and other theosophical systems. More recent scholarship by Julian Strube touches on the Fourierist contributions to French occultism, especially in the work of Alphonse Louis Constant (Eliphas Levi), and Fourier also inspired Anglophone occultists such as Richard J. Morrison (Zadkiel). Later, he was to be embraced by the Surrealists as a sainted predecessor.

Lively, relevant, and far briefer orientations to Fourier can be found in Umberto Eco’s The Uses of Literature (213-255) and Peter Lamborn Wilson’s Escape from the Nineteenth Century and Other Essays (5-37), but Beecher’s tome is fully worth the work of reading it. It left me with no doubt that Fourier supplied an important node in the intellectual current where I operate, offering a transformative vision of a society in which Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.