Edgar held forth at length upon Art, passionlessly expository. “Art,” said he, “and do not imagine that Art or anything else is other than High Magic! — is a system of holy hieroglyph. The artist, the initiate, thus frames his mysteries. The rest of the world scoff, or seek to understand, or pretend to understand; some few obtain the truth. The technical ability of the artist is the lucidity of his language; it has nothing to do with the degree of his illumination. Bougereau is better technically than Manet; he explains more clearly what he sees. But what does he see? He is the priest of a false God. Form has no importance except in this sense; we must not be revolted by the extravagance of new symbolic systems. Gauguin and Matisse may live to be understood. We acquiesce in the eccentricities of Raphael.”
They longed for philosophy, for synthesis. The erstwhile happiness of pure withdrawal each into his own discipline was now felt to be inadequate. Here and there a scholar broke through the barriers of his specialty and tried to advance into the terrain of universality. Some dreamed of a new alphabet, a new language of symbols through which they could formulate and exchange their new intellectual experiences.
At the same time, I sense something like a Gestapo knock, an attempt by the real world to force itself into my carefully maintained happiness, something undeniably capable of smashing my fragile life. The pain which is unaccountable and new, which speaks of its own growth and victory, which speaks of disorder and loss in short bright stabs.
With this word and a new Path of Return was brought into the world.
J S Kupperman, A History of the Western Mystery Tradition to the Twentieth Century: The Mythology of Magic, Part I: Historicus Mythologicus
So when man’s desire to rest from spiritual labour, and his thirst to fill his art with mere sensation and memory, seem upon the point of triumph, some miracle transforms them to a new inspiration; and here and there among the pictures born of sensation and memory is the murmuring of a new ritual, the glimmering of new talismans and symbols.
William Butler Yeats, William Blake and his Illustrations to The Divine Comedy
I would teach you the new ritual of ‘Arrivism’: If you would realize God you must first re-create your God within. You can become God by expurgating—for what is without is an exhausting-transudating past.
Austin Osman Spare, The Logomachy of Zos
Christians have their Cross – fetish ov guilt and shame. Christ on thee Cross – symbol ov martyrdom/sacrifice for thee sinfulness ov thee human race. unworthy, godless slaves.
We repudiate – have our own fetish/symbol for thee immense possibilities and dimensions ov thee human mind and vessel in life. Thee Psychick Cross – an alchemical symbol for (magickally) dangerous material/knowledge. Thee Temple Ov Psychick Youth is “danger” to dogmatic/streamlined thought, that is to thee stability/status quo in present society/culture: thee seed to a new science/way ov living.
“I am all goodness, love, truth, mercy, health. I am a necessary part of God’s universe. I am a divine soul, and only good can come through me or to me. God made me, and He could make nothing but goodness and purity and worth. I am the reflection of all His qualities.” This is the “new” religion; yet it is older than the universe. It is God’s own thought put into practical form.
As John C. Calhoun, the 7th Vice President of the United States once wrote, “The interval between the decay of the old and the formation and the establishment of the new, constitutes a period of transition which must always necessarily be one of uncertainty, confusion, error, and wild and fierce fanaticism.”
Then I am alone, he told himself. I am the last of the Jedi. He seemed to hear Ben’s voice, faint and indistinct, as if from a great distance. “Not the last of the old Jedi, Luke. The first of the new.”
Timothy Zahn, Heir to the Empire