domingo, 3 de junio de 2018

The Occult Source for Shoggoths


Back in 1994, Ryan Parker developed his short essay “Creating a Shoggoth” which soon became very popular and it was readily welcomed by most modern authorities on the Necronomicon Gnosis and the Cthulhu Cultus. In it, Ryan gives a brief overview of the procedure to create a thought-form or egregore, an oft-abused concept in, and beyond, Chaos Magick. Now, I must stress that I admire Ryan’s work on the Necronomicon Tradition, and consider him one of the foremost groundbreakers in rooting the Necronomicon Gnosis in solid occult lore. Yet it is no secret that there is no single “canon” or set of guidelines and we have ample room for agreeing in some respects, and disagreeing in others. In this particular instance, it so happens that I differ, which I am sure Ryan will have no problem with. In fact, my disagreement lies in the focus; I will attempt not to substitute, but to expand upon it.  

As H.P. Lovecraft describes in At theMountains of Madness, the Shoggoths are an artificial life form that was fashioned by the Elder Things from Antarctica in Earth’s prehistory, to use them as servants or slaves, and as machines after a fashion. Shoggoths were used to build their vast stone cities of legend, such as the one found by the Miskatonic Expedition. However, the Shoggoths became more intelligent and unruly, and it is suggested that they rose up against their former masters. 

“These viscous masses were without doubt what Abdul Alhazred whispered about as the ‘shoggoths’ in his frightful Necronomicon, though even that mad Arab had not hinted that any existed on earth except in the dreams of those who had chewed a certain alkaloidal herb.” –H.P. Lovecraft, At the Mountains of Madness. 
A Shoggoth, as depicted by Borja Pindado.

Now, even if an egregore can certainly be described as an artificial life form, it is beyond far-fetched to imagine an army of servant thought-forms cutting and carrying stone blocks and building cities. Therefore the unspeakable horror of Lovecraft’s, and Alhazred’s Shoggoths is reduced to a standard handy tool used by Chaotes! Still, what would a thought-form produced by the alien, unfathomable minds of the Elder Things? From what we know of them, they would no doubt be able to create far more powerful egregores than ours, and perhaps even to materialize them for some periods. I hereby suggest that this is at least a part of the Elder Things’ procedure to create Shoggoths, which they no doubt combined with genetic manipulation. Imagine to create an artificial organism by biochemical means and to impress upon it an egregore developed in a parallel way, ensouling it with a life of its own! 

Now, it turns out that –according to various occult sources- such a creature has been recorded –at the very least, as myth, legend and unverified testimonies- throughout history, and when considering the possibility of existence of an actual Shoggoth, I can only hope this is merely an obscure and fanciful piece of folklore That I have stumbled upon, and that Alhazred was right in claiming it a mere vision of obfuscated minds. 

Like various other elements in the Cthulhu Mythos, the Shoggoth may have been inspired in actual occult lore; while we know with a fair amount of certainty that such a piece of lore was not found in any of the scarce occult treatises ever read by Lovecraft, we know also that he was acquainted with a few occultists and witches, and skeptic though he was, he was often willing to listen to them in the hopes of drawing intriguing tidbits to be used in his fiction.

Now, have you heard of the Ommith?

I’ll save you the effort of googling it: doing so brings up one single source: the list of correspondences between the Cthulhu Mythos and actual occult lore developed by Tani Jantsang, a woman who is hands-on knowledgeable in both fields. In it, Tani equates Shoggoth with Ommith, with no further explanation.

As it happens, Tani wan’t the first to identify the Ommith as Lovecraft’s possible source. Credit of the unearthing of the lore concerning the Ommith, and its identification with the Shoggoth, goes to Edward E. Costain. A writer and university lecturer, who also dedicated great effort to “the field of detecting and measuring paranormal force fields through electronic instrumentation”, Costain had already, back in 1973, thirty years of experience in occult research and was at the moment in charge of answering readers’ questions in the “Who? What? Where? Why?” section of Occult magazine, which counted among its collaborators such noteworthy people as Brad Steiger, Leo Martello, Martin Ebon, Sybil Leek and Virgil Finlay. I should note that Costain was clearly well-read in Lovecraft as well, since he more than once mentioned him in his column (and he clearly enjoyed the time he had to answer the obligatory question concerning the reality of the Necronomicon!) 
Vol. 4 number 4, January 1973,
issue of Occult magazine

Now, in Vol. 4 number 4 of Occult, dated January 1973, an intriguing question came up, and Costain’s answer must have been as much a shock for his readers back then as it is for us half a century later –at least for those who found it, hidden in the last few pages of the magazine, among hokey advertisements! I now reproduce both the question and Edward E. Costain’s fascinating reply, for the sake of Lovecraft and Necronomicon scholars:

What is an Ommith; is it true that they have been photographed? –B.J.B., Washington, D.C.
You’ll be sorry you asked. The Ommith is some kind of – well, entity that physical researchers don’t like to think about. Its existence violates a lot of chemical, physical, spiritual, and religious concepts. It is as if it were something that had been only partly created and allowed to linger on in a half-solid, half-slime state with the intelligence of a vicious idiot. It is of no spiritual order that can be classified, although it manifests in many of the qualities of a spirit – interpenetration of matter and so on. Yet it can be destroyed by corrosive chemicals and X-ray radiation. It nourishes itself by absorbing its victims; part of them, anyway, leaving a residue that makes discoverers retch. In form, it is like a cloud of closely packed bubbles, an iridescent milky-gray. It moves by flowing, though it can extend pseudopods and progress in a manner something like walking. Cases of transvection have been reported: the entity forms into a tube and progresses through the air, only a slight distance above the ground, with an inchworm kind of movement. It has no definite size. Two or more can form into one or one can break down into a number of individuals and then reform. 

In ancient Persia they were known as Ahmizda. One of the kings, Shatrah the Good (ca. 217 AD) is said to have kept one to execute prisoners for the amusement of his court. In the Meadows of Gold, a 10th-century Arabian work, it is revealed that “in Egypt and other countries they have seen white serpents in the air, moving from place to place as fast as lightning; that they lit sometimes on an animal and killed it; and they are sometimes heard flying by night when, in their locomotion in the air they are accompanied by a noise like that of new cloth being unfolded.”

Gervase of Tilbury (ca. 1140 AD) tells of a “Hommat” of immense size that alighted on the tower of St. Martin’s Church in “Southefolke” (Suffolk, probably) and flowed down its interior, dividing into parts, and decimating the congregation – at noontime!

Isolated accounts occur down through the ages. In 1911, my mother and Radclyffe Hall, the poetess (both members of the SPR) were shown a cinematograph of an Ommith by Baron von Schrenk-Notzing at Graz, Austria. It had turned up in a subcellar of Schloss Liechtenhof in the Austrian Alps. Schrenk-Notzing had rendered it torpid by pitching a cylinder of hydrocyanic acid at it. After he got his film by magnesium flares, the Ommith was destroyed with lime chloride. All my mother ever said of the film was, “What a naughty, smutty thing to show to two young ladies!” She said it made both her and Miss Hall sick. It is likely that the Ommith was the inspiration for the Shuggoths of Lovecraft’s tales.

Thus ends Costain’s account, and reading it no doubt brings so many things to mind. But the first and foremost is, why is such an entity so obscure? Why have so few of us heard of it? The answer is, we have; merely not identified either by the apparently Arabic name of Ommith or as a Lovecraftian Shoggoth.

However, before continuing, I must point out that, if Edward E. Costain, Tani Jantsang and I are right, then Abdul Alhazred’s despairing insistence that no Shoggoths had ever existed upon this Earth –was wrong. May the Gods help us if it is so. 

You have probably heard about the house at 50 Berkeley Square, London –best known by the monicker “England’s Most Haunted House.”

The various stories surrounding this four-storied brick house are lengthy and fascinating. The only other such lore-loaded house I know of is my hometown’s “Casa de los Perros”, about which I may post someday.

Back in 1789 we find the earliest reports of a ghostly girl who hangs from a windowsill in the top floor and then falls screaming, then disappears in thin air; she was believed to be a young lady called Adeline who killed herself. A newspaper reported back in the day that "since then more than 50 respectable people have reported seeing Adeline clinging to the windowsill, about to drop to her doom."

Pay heed now: In 1872, politician Lord George Lyttelton wagered that he would spend a night in the house. He was ready to sleep in the attic, with a shotgun at hand. That night, a misty, brownish, mass with tendrils appeared before him, and Lyttelton fired his shotgun to no avail. Lyttelton found no trace of the thing, and later stated that the higher stories of the house were “supernaturally fatal to body and mind.”

The house was then occupied by a recluse, Mr. Myers, said to have lost his mind with pain after his being abandoned for someone else by his fiancée; he died in 1878. Late in 1879, the Bentleys occupied the house. Their daughter was engaged to an army officer called Kenfield, and they were about to marry. There was a party at the house to celebrate the upcoming wedding of the daughter to an army officer. In the early evening, loud screams came from the attic room, where a maidservant had been sent to ready it as a guest room. The Bentleys and the young couple found the maid in a corner of the bedroom, terrified and pleading again and again: “Do not let it touch me”. She died in the hospital the following day, rambling about having seen "something horrible".

Capt. Kenfield, the daughter’s fiancée, decided to spend the night in the room. He promised to ring a bell if anything happened, and had his pistol at hand. Early  in the morning the bell rang desperately, and a gunshot shook them all. Kenfield was found lying on the floor, gibbering and shaking in horror, gun in hand, his gaze fixed on a corner of the room, where a bullet hole stood out. Kenfield recovered but was changed, and could never speak of what he saw (legends touch up this story claiming he was found dead).

Then came what may be the most terrible of episodes, when two sailors, EdwardBlunden and Robert Martin, arrived in London in Christmas eve, penniless and seeking shelter –and wandered into the haunted, shunned house at 50 Berkeley Square.

Daniel Cohen gives a quick, although incomplete, rundown in his Encyclopedia of Monsters (1992) (italics are mine) where he tells of not two but “three sailors who broke into the empty house one night looking for a place to sleep. During the night they were awakened by strange and horrible noises. One of the sailors was so frightened that he rushed out of the house without ever seeing what was making the noise. The other two stayed behind to confront ‘the horror.’


“The sailor who got out located a policeman and persuaded him to come back to the house. When they returned they found the other two sailors were already dead. No exact cause of death was ever determined, but both died with a look of utter terror frozen on their faces.”

One of these men had actually leaped out the window to escape “the horror,” and died from the fall. Other accounts add gory details such as one man being found dismembered in the basement and the one who jumped out having been impaled in the spikes of the fence.

“There are many theories and tales regarding the origin and nature of ‘the horror,’” adds Cohen, briefly mentioning a story of a madman who had been kept in the “top room” and of the aforementioned recluse. “These are fairly traditional ghost stories. There are, however, other accounts which assert that ‘the horror’ is not a ghost at all, but a shapeless and slimy thing, too grotesque to describe accurately, that had crawled up out of the sewers and was hiding somewhere in the house. It was said that the noises that so terrified people were the gruesome slopping noises the thing made as it slithered up and down the stairs.” I ask you now –are these descriptions not disturbingly similar to an Ommith – or a Shoggoth? 


The house is occupied, since 1937, by Maggs Bros – Antiquarian Book Dealers. The staff has sometimes heard strange noises in the upper floors, but they never venture there, since they are forbidden to do so – an old police sign states that said upper floors must never be occupied or used in any way.

Now, in the past couple of decades, the number of apparently-organic shapes reported by ufologists has increased, which is probably due to the improvement of cameras; UFOs remain ridiculously blurry, but enough clarity is sometimes achieved to make it clear that at least some of them are clearly not of a technological nature. A great number of elongated and snaking objects –much as the medieval description of Ommiths quoted by Costain- have even become a particular variety of either cryptid or UFO. Here is my favorite one, seen on November 3, 1973 at Cocoyoc, north of Mexico City (and it was seen again years later, elsewhere! But I don’t have the information at hand): 

The strange UFO seen at Cocoyoc, Mexico, in 1973.

There are also organic-looking objects seen in high altitude and even snapped on occasion by space probes outside Earth’s atmosphere! The unlikely-named Russian astrophysicist Dr. V.I. Goldanskii apparently even coined a term for them: Zeroids, due to their hypothetical habitat with zero temperature and zero atmospheric pressure. While such names and theories are somewhat ludicrous, the observed phenomena that inspired them are there all the same. Could they be instances of the very same phenomenon being observed throughout the centuries? 

Zeroids - the Ommiths of old? 

We might have reason to look into unresolved disappearances occurring around the times and locations of the sightings. I dread to think what we might find.

So, is the Ommith a source that H.P. Lovecraft drew on when writing about the Shoggoths? We of course have no conclusive proof. And it must be acknowledged that the Ommith presents some differences, such as its floating abilities. But we are speaking of inspiration, not of accurate representation. And, of course, even if we are right, the Ommith were obviously not created by the pre-human science of the Elder Race…

Or were they? Because there is at least a single, but impressive, hint that the Elder Things that inhabited Lovecraft’s Mountains of Madness and fashioned the Shoggoths as well as earthly life, were also based on some elder model by Lovecraft! I am not claiming that their prehistoric cities have been found (not that unusual findings have not been taking place in Anatctica of late); but watch this blog in the following days; you just may be surprised.



  

miércoles, 16 de mayo de 2018

Liber Pennae Praenumbra - En Español


(CAVEAT: The following is a newly-received Spanish translation of Soror Nema’s Liber Pennae Praenumbra, found in English in this link, as well as in the beautiful new print edition)

El presente texto, fundamental en muchos sentidos, es incomprensiblemente difícil de hallar en español.
Existen cuando menos tres traducciones de este libro. La mejor de ellas, realizada al lado de otros textos relacionados, ha desaparecido de la red, y ahora sólo se encuentra una que no me satisface, mientras que la versión en el libro de Soror Nema, Magia de Maat, se encuentra además incompleta. Esta noche, bajo la Luna NUeva, he recibido esta nueva versión.


LIBER PENNAE PRAENUMBRA

En el Eco del Akasha se encuentra esto inscrito:

Por la misma boca, Oh Madre del Sol, es la palabra exhalada y el néctar recibido. Por el mismo hálito, Oh Contrapeso del Corazón, es lo manifiesto creado y destruido.
No hay sino una puerta, aun cuando aparentan ser nueve, Mimo-danznte de las Estrellas. ¡Cuán bella vuestra trama y red, refulgente en la ígnea oscuridad del espacio!
¡Los dos que son nada os saludan, Llama Negra que movéis a Hadit! En tanto menos y menos crece el Uno, Pra-NU puede manifestarse más y más. Habladnos ahora a nosotros, los niños del tiempo-que-vendrá; ¡declarad vuestra voluntad y concedednos vuestro Amor!
Entonces habló Aquella-Que-Se-Mueve:
¡Yo me arrojo sobre vosotros, Niños de Heru! Todos vosotros quienes amáis la Ley y la guardáis, sin retener Nada para vosotros, son bendecidos. Habéis buscado las partes dispersas de Nuestro Señor, sin cesar jamás de conjuntar todo cuanto ha sido. Y en el Reino de los Muertos habéis vosotros engendrado a partir de lo Muerto al Refulgente. Vosotros alumbrasteis entonces, y Le nutristeis.
Vuestro Territorio de Leche tendrá la miel también, esparcida como rocío por el Divino Ginandro. El placer y el deleite radican en la Obra, la Totalidad que sobrepasa por mucho a las Partes unidas.
El Señor de las Partes es situado dentro de su reino, como lo fue hecho por Bestia y Ave. El territorio del Sol se encuentra abierto sólo para los Niños. Poned atención al Niño Eterno - su Usanza fluye libre, y favorece a la Naturaleza de vuestro ser.
Una Voz exclamó en el Eco de Cristal:
¿Qué significa este mostrar? ¿Se ha ladeado el Tiempo mismo? ¡El Halcón sólo ha volado sesenta veces y diez en Su curso asignado!
Ella sonríe, tan bella como la Noche:
Observad, Él extiende Sus alas en vuelo todavía, derrama y esparce la Luz Dorada sobre los corazones de los hombres. ¿Y dónde vuela Él, y de qué medios se vale? La Pluma y el Aire son suyos para cabalgar, para sostenerle siempre en su IR.
Los pilastros de las eras permanecen inmutables, firmemente Set-uados. El Día del Halcón ha visto apenas su amanecer, y habrá de ver su medida correspondiente de acuerdo a las Leyes del Tiempo y Espacio.
La Voz entonces habló:
¿Entonces la Visión ha fallado? ¿Os contemplo de manera torva, creyendo que sois Quien No sois?
Ella danzó y giró, esparciendo luz de estrellas en su risa silenciosa.
Yo Soy Quien aparento ser, en ocasiones, y por otra parte llevo un triple velo. ¡No os confundáis! Por encima de todo, la Verdad prevalece.
Yo soy la No-Confinada. ¿Quién hay que me diga no, que diga, “No pasaréis”? ¿Quién puede en verdad decir, “Vuestro tiempo está todavía por venir”, cuando el Tiempo mismo es mi principal servidor, y el Espacio el Mayordomo de mi Templo?
En verdad, Oh Voz del Akasha, Yo soy el medio por el cual habláis. Por la misma boca que respira el Aire, palabras de duda se derraman. En silencio, entonces, conocedme. Puesto que he venido con propósito en este tiempo, para ayudar a los Amantes del Halcón a volar.

La Palabra del Vuelo
Quien vacila en el Vuelo debe por eso caer: la grandeza de los Dioses está en el IR.
Cuando primero plumasteis, Amado de Heru, el cascarón que por largo tiempo os había protegido se había roto. Sobre las Alas de la Voluntad os aventurasteis, ganando fortaleza y poder conforme volabais. Obtuvisteis todo el conocimiento del Reino Emplumado, por medio del cual os volvisteis tan perfecto como el Sol. Los amigos y los maestros todos se volvieron hermanos.
El Cisne real, la Garza y el Búho - el Cuervo y el Gallo os ayudaron. La Belleza del Halcón mismo fue otorgada, las virtudes del Pavo Real, el Colibrí y el Somorgujo. El Águila reveló su naturaleza interior y los misterios de la misma – he aquí que fuisteis testigo de cómo, con su León, ella llegó a ser el Cisne. Y el Ibis del Abismo mostró el Conocimiento.
Volasteis, ¡Oh Reyes y Ermitaños! Y voláis incluso ahora, dentro de la flexión exquisita de NU. Pero los hay entre vosotros, y por debajo de vosotros, quienes atarían vuestras alas y os arrebatarían del firmamento.
¡Mirad bien vuestro interior! ¡Juzgad bien vuestro Corazón! Si vos sois puro, su peso no es mayor que el mío. No os hundirá en el Abismo. Ya que el Oro es Luz, mas el Plomo es fatal en el volar – sondead vuestras propias profundidades, en la Verdad y en auto-conocimiento.
Si algo os obstaculizase, es obra vuestra. Contemplad ahora esta enseñanza al interior del Templo.
Diciéndolo así, Ella-La-Que-Se-Mueve asumió la forma de la gran Llama Negra, la cual crecía desde el eje central y ondeaba fuera hacia el Vacío. Los Niños de Heru observaron en silencio, y escucharon Sus palabras que cobraban forma en sus corazones.
¡Contemplad! Esta lente de Estrellas que ahora rota en el Espacio ante vosotros - los hombres bien la han llamado Andrómeda. A través de ella Yo fluyo hasta el sagrado Can de la Luna, y desde allí a Ra, y desde allí a vosotros, Oh Sacerdotes.
No debéis permanecer conformes mientras estéis en el Reino, sino esforzaros y así exceder en lo que se ha hecho. En el Amor de la Dama del Norte, y en la Voluntad del Príncipe del Sur, haced toda cosa cual fuere. En el poder de la Estrella de los Siete-rayos comprehended a la Bestia. Y desde el HAD del Corazón deleitaos en vuestra querida arqueada de estrellas.
Haced todo esto, y entonces, pasad más allá. Abandonad cualquier cosa que os pudiese distinguir de cualquier otra cosa, sí, o de ninguna cosa. ¡Si el cazador de aves os atrapase, abandonad vuestro manto de plumas colgando de su mano y remontad desnudo e invisible más allá!
¡Pero ahora! Como sacerdotes al interior del Templo estáis aquí, como Reyes, y Guerreros, Magos todos. La Usanza está en la Obra.
El Oculto que se encuentra en el Abismo ahora presenta a los dos en los cuales es forjada la Más Alta Alquimia: sosteniendo la Tierra está Chthonos - apréndelo bien, y todas las ataduras serán aflojadas por la Operación de la Voluntad. Remontándose sobre el Espíritu, está Ychronos, cuya naturaleza es la duración y el paso de la misma.
Los dos son uno, y forman la esencia del Reino. Quien obtiene maestría sobre ellos es Maestro del Mundo. Ellos son las absolutas llaves de la Transmutación, y las llaves del poder de los otros Elementos.
Los Sacerdotes-Guerreros recibieron las Llaves, y las guardaron en sus ropajes, para mantenerlas bien ocultas sobre sus corazones. La Llama Negra parpadeó y menguó, tornándose pequeña, una canilla, emplumada y puntiaguda. No habiendo nada sobre qué escribir, uno de entre los Sacerdotes vino, y tendió la piel de su cuerpo sobre el altar como pergamino viviente.
Ella-La-Que-Se-Mueve escribió allí una Palabra, mas no la mostró ante ellos. Con paciencia aguardaron todos los Reyes y Ermitaños, con plena certeza de la Comprensión final.
La Pluma creció una vez más, y redondeó estrechamente sus bordes, tornándose a sus ojos el Yonilingam. La imagen vino del Antiguo Baphomet, el Cornudo, quien habló:
De antiguo conocisteis la Llave del Dos-en-Uno unidos. Habéis vivido y amado en plena medida como NU y HAD, como PAN y BABALON. El Misterio de mi propia imagen conocéis también, puesto que tal Verdad era para las antiguas Ordenes del Oriente y del Occidente.
Bipartita ha sido la Raza del Hombre en su extensión. El Padre y la Madre hicieron un Niño. Yo soy el mayor de los Niños, es verdad - pero ahora el más joven se alza a Su Día.
La naturaleza de la verdadera Alquimia es que cambia no sólo la sustancia de la Obra, sino que cambia también por lo tanto al Alquimista. Vosotros cuya Voluntad es Obrar de este modo, contemplad mi imagen inversa, y considerad bien su significado para vuestra Tarea.

La Muestra de la Imagen
Fuera del Yonilingam emanó una Nube, violeta e inyectada de luz. En su corazón nebuloso de aquello un sonido se alzó, vibrando con suavidad, no obstante colmaba todas partes.
Enjoyada y destellando luces de arcoíris desde sus Alas, se hallaba suspendida en medio una humilde ABEJA. Con franjas de oro y marrón, suavemente peluda y de forma curvada, hizo brillar sus ojos hacia los Sacerdotes y Reyes congregados.
Habló entonces Ella-La-Que-Se-Mueve desde la niebla circundante:
Este es el símbolo de la Obra-por-venir, el Gran Ginandro en su forma Terrenal. El Mago ha de crecerá en semejanza de la ABEJA conforme el Eón se despliega, un líder y una selal para la Raza del Hombre.
¿Qué entonces de su naturaleza muestra la ABEJA?
Observad, no es masculina ni femenina en el singular. Labora durante el día en constante vuelo, un hacedor sin ego, cuya Voluntad y la Voluntad de la Colmena son sólo una.
Recolecta el Néctar de las flores, vuela hasta la Colmena y allí, en pura Com-Unión, realiza en este mismo cuerpo la Transubstanciación.
El néctar es ahora miel. De abeja a abeja, se transfiere, hablando todos los Misterios de la Colmena desde y a cada boca. Por la misma boca que primero recolectó, es la miel gastada. La Alquimia secreta al interior de los Centros se torna Dorada-Plateada.
La Colmena vive ahora, inmortal. Con reina y obreras, zánganos y constructoras, soldados y nodrizas - todos son uno. En constante renovación de vida, la Colmena respira como Un Ser - ya que en verdad lo es. En la Voluntad de la Colmena es realizada la voluntad de la Abeja. Cada una en su lugar asignado, las Abejas realizan su Voluntad en ordenada armonía.
La imagen se desvanece. Ahora la Pluma allí situada se mueve de manera danzante, desplegando desde el eje central largas alas, transformándose en la forma del oscuro Buitre.
Pero sabed, Oh Niños del Halcón, que un Hombre no es una Abeja. Él puede sacar provecho de tal imagen, para aprender de la Sabiduría en la Operación. Contemplad en mí otra imagen para la instrucción de vuestro corazón.
Se alzó ante sus ojos la Torre del Silencio, en donde los Amantes del Fuego tienden a sus muertos.
La forma del Buitre descendió suavemente allí, y comió la carne de los cadáveres hasta el hueso. El viento aulló, desolado, en este lugar espantoso, haciendo revolotear las mortajas sobre los huesos de marfil.
Silenciosamente, la Alada miraba, con sangre que impregnaba su pico. En los ojos de cada Sacerdote de los allí reunidos, su mirada funesta buscaba. En paz perfecta ellos contemplaban su exploración, ya que cada uno, como Guerrero, había hecho de la Muerte un hermano. De manera deliberada, entonces, ella desplegó sus alas, y remontó al viento, y surcó hacia lo alto desde aquel sitio.

La Entrega de la Palabra
La Eternidad reinó entonces, el Infinito el velo que colgaba sobre ellos.
En alguna parte, a alguna hora, el velo se dividió por un momento, y Ella-La-Que-Se-Mueve marchó adelante. Más bella de lo que una mujer mortal fue jamás, Ella refulgía en resplandor de perla y amatista. Fino pliegue de lino era Su túnica, ceñida en oro y plata, y sobre Su cabeza, un nemyss de azul estrellado. Su corona era sólo una simple pluma, colocada en libertad, y en sus manos el Ankh y la Vara de Sanación.
Hacia cada Sacerdote-Guerrero se movió ella, los abrazó y besó. Entonces, sentada en el medio, Ella les habló como un camarada de igual rango.
"Todos vosotros que practicáis bien el Elevado Arte, escuchad. Nada permanecerá oculto a vuestra vista. Todas las fórmulas y Palabras las habréis de descubrir, siendo iniciados por aquellos cuya Labor es ayudar a la Ley de la Voluntad".
"Habéis obrado bien en todo aquello que ha sido dado; sobre el Árbol de la Vida estáis asentados. En el Tetragrammaton habéis procedido; en todo cuanto la Bestia ha brindado habéis practicado bien. Habéis llegado a ser Hadit, y NU, y Ra-Hoor-Khuit también. Como Heru-Pa-Kraath permanecisteis en silencio. Conocéis a PAN como amante y como forma divina, y BABALON es novia y es vuestro ser para vos".
"Las fuerzas de Shaitan habéis engendrado, convocando el nexo del noventa y tres para en él obrar vuestra Voluntad. La separación por el gozo de la Unión habéis conocido, y la Alquimia es Ciencia para vuestro Arte."
"Para aquellos que saben, y tienen voluntad, y osan, y guardan silencio, ahora se ha de ir más allá".
"En la muerte está la Vida – pues ahora como siempre ha sido así. La Muerte Voluntariosa es eterna - mantenedla así. El Ser del Ego, hijo de sí nacido de Maya, debe ser muerto en el momento de nacer. El Ojo que nunca duerme debe guardar vigilia, Oh Guerreros, puesto que la ilusión es auto-generada".
"Constante vigilancia es el primer Acto - el Abismo es cruzado en minutos, cada día".
"Si habréis de danzar la Máscara, entonces enmascarad la Danza. Exquisito debe ser el Arte de esta manera; y el equilibrio en el Centro ser mantenido, o de otro modo brindaréis inusitada Vida a vuestras propias creaciones. Hollad con cautela este sendero de Operación, Mago. Un instrumento, por la Voluntad urdido, constituye un mal amo".
"Ahora en la Misa, el Águila debe ser alimentada con lo que ella ha compartido en hacer. Por la misma boca que ruge sobre la montaña, es dada la palabra-acto de Ninguna Diferencia".
"Y cuando la Voluntad declara, en ello se unirá la ABEJA para añadir el oro al rojo y al blanco. La esencia de Shaitan es Néctar aquí, el Templo es la Colmena. El León es la Flor, ahora en el momento, el Águila invoca la naturaleza de la ABEJA".
"Dentro del santuario de triple-cámara el primer néctar es recolectado. La convocación de la vara de PAN despierta el éxtasis de la apertura del portal. Y desde la tercera y más recóndita cámara, en supremo gozo, el regalo de Sothis, Hidromiel quintaesencial, brota para unirse a las lágrimas del Águila y la sangre del León.
"Solve et Coagula. Com-Unión por medio de ello, donde el Cosmos mismo se disuelve, y se re-forma por la Voluntad. Y sabed, si algo puede ser así ordenado en el Reino, que tres o más es cero, así como más antiguas verdades'.'
Entonces se movieron los Sacerdotes-Guerreros, y de entre ellos, uno sin nombre se adelantó.
"Nosotros os conocemos, Señora, aun cuando Vuestro nombre no ha sido pronunciado hasta ahora. Pero decid ahora - ¿qué fue escrito sobre la piel del hombre? ¿Cuál es la palabra que Vos dais?''
Ella sonrió y extrajo de su túnica un rollo de pergamino, con la forma de una Estrella. Desenrollándolo, Ella lo volteó, de manera que todos pudieran ver.

IPSOS

"¿Qué es esta Palabra, Oh Señora - cómo puede ser utilizada?"
"En sabiduría silente, Rey y Sacerdote-Guerrero. Permitid que el acto refulja y que la palabra se oculte; el acto es lámpara suficiente para velar el rostro".
"Es la palabra del sendero veintitrés, cuyo número es cincuenta y seis. Es la Morada inexpresable, allí donde la Danza de la Máscara es enseñada por Mí. Tahuti vigila sin el Simio; Yo soy el Buitre también."
"Es el Cáliz del Aire y la Vara del Agua, la Espada de la Tierra y el Pentáculo del Fuego. Es el reloj de arena y la serpiente que muerde la cola. Es el Ganges que deviene en Océano, la Usanza del Niño Eterno".
"Nombra la Fuente de Mi Propio Ser - y del vuestro. Es el origen de esta transmisión, que se canaliza a través de Andrómeda y de Set. ¿Qué raza de dioses hablan al Hombre, Oh Voluntariosos?
La palabra de Ellos es a la vez Nombre y Hecho.
"Es para vosotros mantra y encantamiento. Proferirlo es provocar cambio seguro. Sed circunspecto en sus usos - puesto que si su verdad fuese conocida en el exterior, podría acaso conducir a los esclavos a la locura y la desesperación".
"Sólo un verdadero Rey-Sacerdote puede conocerla por completo, y permanecer en equilibrio a través de su IR en vuelo. Esto es todo cuanto Yo hablo por ahora. El Libro del Presagio de la Sombra de la Pluma está completo. Hacer vuestra Voluntad será la totalidad de la Ley. El amor es la Ley, el Amor bajo la Voluntad”.

Donat por Omne
Scriba - Nema
Sol in Capricornus
Anno Heru LXX
Cincinnati, Ohio


Traducido bajo la Luna NUeva
 15-16/Mayo/2018
Con Su pluma
Esto es por ti, Nema
Cuerno y Fuego
Luis G. Abbadie
93-418-696
700

jueves, 10 de mayo de 2018

Concerning an Untold Fragment in the Life of Borges


What follows is a tantalizing account which sorely needed to be made available to the English-speaking community. In a further entry I will refer to further evidence about Borges' familiarity with the Necronomicon presented by Rodolfo Martínez and Aelfwine, and to a surprising correlation between one of Borges' greatest stories and an Alhazredic passage. For now, I leave you with the following piece

Concerning an Untold Fragment in the Life of Borges 

José A. Oliver

Now that a hundred years have passed since the birth of Jorge Luis Borges, I believe it is of utmost interest that the honorable members of the Lodge T .... whom I am addressing today know what the Argentine writer himself entrusted to me a long time ago: a terrifying secret that may change the way the world conceives ​​him. 

I met Jorge Luis Borges around 1919, on a trip I made to Switzerland as I pursued an anthropological investigation. There, the so-called group of ultraist artists gathered to talk and read their works. I made contact with Borges almost by chance, at the National Library. I still remember as if it were yesterday how we coincided in the occult sciences section upon a sunny noon in the Cantonese winter. I was looking for a rare specimen of Fray Eulogius's Rex Caldei, a manuscript I had heard about very recently from a professor in Boston. I distinctly remember his striking figure against the light, on one of the wooden tables, poring through an old black leather-bound volume. Before I realized it, we had spent the whole afternoon talking about Dr. Dee, Count Kauphman, Blavatsky and various theosophical doctrines. In the days that followed, we developed a great friendship. We strolled through the streets of Geneva, conversing in perfect English; we continued to attend those ultraist gatherings, which seemed to matter less and less. Shortly afterward, he announced to me that he had to leave for Buenos Aires, where he fervently invited me to visit him. 
Jorge Luis Borges, a frequent lodger at Ulthar and great friend of elder Atal.
I returned to the Arkham faculty, from where I maintained a long and pleasant epistolary communication with him. For years we wrote to each other, and I learned about his studies on Coleridge, about his fascination with Wells, Schopenhauer, and so many others. At the same time, I told him about my devotion to texts in Sanskrit and the ancient Polynesian civilizations.
In a letter dated 1937 he told me that he had started working in a library (from which he would be dismissed in 1946 by the Perón government) and, marginally, he narrated the passing of HP Lovecraft.  I did not then know the work of the writer from Providence; the truth is that he was yet not known to the world. I remember Borges writing in that letter:

That Howard was, to a certain extent, like me. Behind those science-fiction stories, so beautifully written, was a man concerned with time, with Eternity. Yes, James, for might a mind unconcerned with Eternity, with the bleak vertigo of the aeons, hope to capture that terror which, for being so ancient, is even feared by time itself? Who could conceive without a hint of dizziness, the horrible and confirmed presence of that which is older than time? (1)

It was clear that Borges felt captivated by Lovecraft and soon, as he notified me, he devoted himself to his study, although, as the vast body of work which he bequeathed to us testifies, he did not notify anyone of this pursuit except his closest friends. I know, however, that for a certain time he was occupied in finding real traces of books like the Book of Eibon or the De Vermis Mysteriis, which were cited in the works of Lovecraft. 

In the following years I barely had contact with him. In a few scarce letters he informed me (around 1944) that a certain eye infection he suffered was aggravating and that he had finished Ficciones, one of his masterpieces, which contains a text which sheds light upon everything I intend to tell. Concerning said book, Borges told me:

Read it well, James, read it well, because in it there is something much more real than it seems... 

In this short story, included in Ficciones, we are told how an order is in possession of a great secret, which is never made explicit in the whole story. What did Borges intend to tell me with that? What strange secret concerning that community and concerning himself had he concealed and at the same time wanted to reveal? 

(The description of the unnamed story can only refer 
to "The Sect of the Phoenix" -better translated as "The Cult of the Phoenix", 
the name of which has been borrowed in vastly different instances by the likes of 
Colin Wilson and J.K. Rowling. Here in audiobook -LGAbbadie)

In May 1950, shortly after having published El Aleph, he wrote to me:

I am in pursuit after a volume that, if its existence is true, would change my entire outlook. I've been looking for years, when, apparently, I had it within hand’s reach. I will tell you about it eventually.

These are years in which his prestige is increasing, in contrast to the bitterness he suffers at home. Few letters come from him. Until 1955. 

On that year, with the fall of General Perón, he was appointed director of the National Library. Shortly afterward he wrote to me: 

Friend James, you cannot imagine the discovery I have made. As director of the National Library, I am allowed access to the weirdest and strangest volumes in our collection. Well here in the second basement, beyond several locked doors which the same key (mine) opened, after innumerable corridors of tomes that sleep the sleep of the just, I came upon a locked closet that my key also opened. And it was there, James. Just as he said, just as the bookseller from La mandragore de Paris testified, it merely was not at the university of Buenos Aires. The Necronomicon. An incredible and inexplicable volume. Yes, James, that's when I glimpsed the bottom of the well of human wisdom. It was a very old edition, perhaps dating from the XIVth Century, in Spanish, but without the name of the amanuensis, almost complete, except for the end... 

In that letter Borges seemed completely out of his mind. I tried, over the next few weeks, to phone him to talk to him and calm him down, but it was impossible to locate him. I got letters from Bioy Casares communicating Borges' embarrassment. It seemed that his discovery had upset him. It was hardly surprising. In that cellar, Borges found that, suddenly, all that barely glimpsed, perhaps feared, fantasy world became (as in one of those Cortazarian nightmares) reality, that the terms of idea and world were reversed and negated. 

At the end of that year, I received a letter from him. In it he was much calmer and level-headed. Finally, he told me:

It is all over, with my blindness. My vision is now null; I depend on my mother and my friends. The Necronomicon has shown me terrible things, I do not want to know anything else about it. From now on I will never mention it or even mention its existence.

Since then, until his death and beyond, I have always wondered what Borges saw in the Necronomicon and what he read. And that ambiguous phrase, "
It is all over, with my blindness", so strangely punctuated for a perfect connoisseur of language like him? Did the Necronomicon definitely seal Borges's blindness? Was it a divine mercy that it would worsen in such circumstances? Or perhaps Borges himself had caused that blindness, as if he were a decadent Oedipus, to escape the threat of that book? I certainly do not know. And Borges never agreed to clarify it in later letters.
Perhaps the most lucid mind that this century has given us was one of the most silently tortured. Now that one hundred years have passed since his birth and he left us so long ago, I believe that this episode of his life can serve us all to value and understand him a little more.

(James W. Queen, School of Anthropology, Miskatonic University, Arkham, Massachusetts). 

(1) This fragment and the rest such quotes correspond to the volume I have in preparation: Borges. Unpublished correspondence, 1921-1956. I must here, as in the future prologue to this work, express my thanks to his widow Maria Kodama for the permission she has given me for the publication of these letters. 

Published in the literary magazine "La bolsa de pipas". Mallorca, July 2001. No. 25.
(For subscriptions to the magazine: 
romanigue@eresmas.com or calling 971 610144). 

Translated by Luis G. Abbadie from De un fragmento no narrado de la vida de Borges with great aid from Google Translate - hey, this takes up a lot of time!