The cult leader in Jonathan Stroud’s Whispering Skull

I find Jonathan Stroud’s Lockwood & Co. series well worth reading for the stories alone. Material that inspires commentary is a bonus! 

The article about Stroud's predatory ghosts does not cover everything of interest and relevance in the Lockwood books. There is some material that makes me think of cults, and there are people and other entities who use supernatural powers to make themselves appear to be angels when they are really demons.

This article has something to say about a sinister doctor called Edmund Bickerstaff, who is of particular interest because he has some of the characteristics that are often found in cult leaders.

The sinister Victorian doctor
Dr. Edmund Bickerstaff is a character in The Whispering Skull, the second book in the Lockwood series. He was involved with occult research and experimentation; he pursued forbidden knowledge. After years of unwholesome activities such as grave robbing and necromancy, he was believed to have come to a horrible end in 1877. The fate of his remains was unknown until the present day, when his gravestone is unexpectedly found in London's Kensal Green Cemetery.

Dr. Bickerstaff's ghost is likely to be very dangerous, so Anthony Lockwood and his fellow psychical investigation agents George Cubbins and Lucy Carlyle are retained to supervise the excavation of the grave and deal with the remains. 

Their discoveries and adventures while on the case make fascinating reading, but it is the effect that Dr. Bickerstaff has on people that is most relevant here. 

Dr. Bickerstaff and cult leaders
Cult leaders often promise everything and deliver little or nothing. They can be pied pipers who lead their sleep-walking, spellbound followers to disaster; they can be sirens who lure people to their doom. Dr. Bickerstaff is one such leader. He operated on a relatively small scale when alive, but had a lethal effect on his followers.

Violet Needham, Pandora, and Mr Papadopoulis

Violet Needham wrote some high-quality books for children. They were published between the years 1939 and 1957. 

Apart from a brief mention in the article about Anthony Hope, whose fictional country Ruritania may well have inspired her fictional Empire and surrounding countries, Violet Needham has not previously been featured on here.

Some of her books, the Stormy Petrel stories in particular, are full of exciting and romantic adventures in glamorous settings and some even have supernatural elements, but most of them are not relevant to this blog. 

While working on articles about John Buchan's books, I was reminded of some characters and scenes from one of Violet Needham’s books. I decided to take another look at Pandora of Parrham Royal (1951), which I last read many years ago. 

I bought a copy online and renewed my acquaintance with the material that I vaguely remembered. In the light of what I have since learned about unseen influences, parts of the book seem much more significant now than they did when I first read it. 

Pandora of Parrham Royal may not be one of Violet Needham’s best books when it comes to the characters and storyline - I much prefer the Stormy Petrel series - but it has inspired an article because it has some elements in common with John Buchan's books and it provides yet another example of someone who uses occult powers to get what they want.

Much of the plot and most of the characters in Pandora of Parrham Royal are not relevant to this article. 

The main character of interest is called Themistocles Papadopoulis. 

He has attributes in common with some really horrible black magicians who have been featured on here, although, unlike Stella Gibbons’s occultist Esmé Scarron and Robin Jarvis’s appalling warlock Nathaniel Crozier, he is not really evil nor is he involved with black magic as such.

About Mr Papadopoulis
Mr Papadopoulis has a touch of the typical Luciferian hero/villain about him. He is a man of mystery. He has dark hair and melancholy black eyes that sometimes smoulder with passion; he sometimes gives an impression of great power and arrogance; he is magnetic and charming; he smiles ironically and has a compelling gaze; he also hypnotises people. He makes people like him whether they want to or not.

Joyce Collin-Smith: leaving the cult of the Maharishi Yogi

The final stage of Joyce Collin-Smith’s relationship with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and his Transcendental Meditation movement as described in her autobiographical work Call No Man Master is of particular interest to me.

There was a time when she felt far from being ready to abandon the Maharishi. She eventually reached the stage where she felt a deep disquiet whenever she came close to him and met his eyes, and finally there were some last straw incidents that pushed her into completely giving up her involvement with him and his movement.

There are some familiar elements and a few coincidences in what she tells us, and some of the material is useful for adding to the store of information about how and why people leave cults and what happens to them afterwards.

The course in Italy

Everything came to a head when the Maharishi hand picked some people to go on a course of advanced teachings that was to be held in Italy, in the Dolomites. By then, he was charging selected followers hefty amounts for the privilege of learning special techniques.

Joyce Collin-Smith was one of the followers he ordered to go on the course. She felt hijacked, forced into attending.

This was the last course she ever went on. There was a last straw moment or two; the Maharishi went too far and she just couldn’t take any more.

For starters, she realised that he was teaching and presiding over magical practices; not only that, the rituals were very unsafe and undesirable for westerners.

Joyce Collin-Smith: inside the cult of the Maharishi Yogi

Joyce Collin-Smith said that the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was both godlike and demonic.

To me, her autobiographical work Call No Man Master has a similar duality: it is both very interesting and very boring. Some of the content fascinates me and resonates very strongly while some of it means very little so I skip over it.

Some of the material has generated commentaries and inspired the making of some original connections while some of it is just more of the same or irrelevant so I have no inclination to say anything about it.

Cults, cult leaders, cult members and cult leavers have been covered in several articles, mainly in general terms. I found Joyce Collin-Smith’s account of her involvement with the cult of the Maharishi Yogi particularly interesting. It is a goldmine; it is independent confirmation of much of what has already been described.

This article covers my ideas about her stated reasons for joining Maharishi and for staying with him for several years despite some reservations and much disillusionment.  Another article will describe how she eventually brought herself to leave him and his organisation for good.

Joyce Collin-Smith and the special powers of the Maharishi Yogi

There is still more to say about Joyce Collin-Smith and her dealings with the Maharishi Yogi.

This article will mainly cover the Maharishi’s special powers.

In her autobiographical book Call No Man Master, she suggests that he remotely caused two deaths. In one case the motive was to remove an obstacle from his path while in the other it was revenge.

As described in the previous article, she believes that Beatles’ agent Brian Epstein was removed because he stood in the way of the Maharishi’s plans and Beatle John Lennon was murdered as a punishment for speaking out openly against the Maharishi.

What did she see and experience during the time she spent with the guru that could have given her this idea? Why did she believe that he had the power to destroy people? Why did she believe that he would use his power so ruthlessly?

Some more extracts from her book provide answers to these key questions. The incidents described may seem trivial to some people, but for me they are very significant and provide independent confirmation of many of my ideas.

Arthur Conan Doyle’s witch Helen Penclosa: Part V

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s short novel The Parasite has inspired a whole series of articles, of which this is the last.

It is being published today to mark the 87th anniversary of Conan Doyle’s death: he died on this day, July 7th, in 1930. 

Although I had never even heard of The Parasite until a few weeks ago, many elements of the story seem very familiar. They have activated memories of things I have read in other books or experienced for myself; I have featured some of them in previous articles. Here are some more connections that I have noticed:

The Parasite and John Buchan

The Parasite reminds me a little of John Buchan’s story The Gap in the Curtain, in which people are trained to use the latent powers of their minds.

The volunteers are selected for their sensitive nervous systems and inability to cope well with the normal, physical world. This partly matches what Austin Gilroy says about himself: he calls himself a highly psychic, sensitive man.

The volunteers in The Gap in the Curtain are very different from Agatha Marden, whom Helen Penclosa successfully hypnotises as a demonstration of her power to control healthy, well-balanced people.

This makes me think of something that the eastern mystic and guru Kharáma says to the villain Dominick Medina in Buchan’s novel The Three Hostages: 

"The key is there, but to find it is not easy.  All control tends to grow weak and may be broken by an accident, except in the case of young children, and some women, and those of feeble mind."

"That I know," said Medina almost pettishly.  "But I do not want to make disciples only of babes, idiots, and women."

"Only some women, I said.  Among our women perhaps all, but among Western women, who are hard as men, only the softer and feebler."

Agatha Marden is hardly soft and feeble, but she is not hard enough to be able to resist being hypnotised. In any case, she was eager to try it out. Even so, it was quite an achievement for Helen Penclosa to be able to control someone that even the great Kharáma might have had trouble with!

There is a gap of 30 years and an intervening World War between the publication dates of The Parasite and The Three Hostages. There were probably many more ‘soft women’ around in 1894 than there were in 1924!

One trope that still worked is the use of mysterious, remote and exotic locations to account for someone’s powers: Helen Penclosa is West Indian; Kharáma is Indian.

Arthur Conan Doyle’s witch Helen Penclosa: Part IV

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s novella The Parasite has inspired a series of articles. Part III described Helen Penclosa and her activities in detail. So what more is there to say about this sinister little story? There are still a few features to be highlighted, points to be made and warnings to be repeated.

Going into reverse

One feature in this and other examples of people ignoring red flags and getting carried away by exciting visions of the future is that not only do many of them not get what they want, but it all goes horribly wrong, into reverse even, and they find themselves in a much worse situation. Their ambition, scientific curiosity, gullibility, greed, arrogance, over-estimation of their powers, strength and resistance …whatever the cause of their involvement with negative metaphysical forces, they are lead to disaster.

Austin Gilroy gets the exact opposite of what he hoped for. He foresees a glorious future for himself; he thinks that his forthcoming paper on hypnotism might even get him made a Fellow of the Royal Society.  This will make Agatha accept that the game is worth the candle!  Unfortunately, it all backfires.

Instead of achieving further academic success, he loses his professorship; instead of feeling respect and admiration for him, Agatha feels concern because he looks so worried, worn and ill.

Life becomes a living hell

It is bad enough for Gilroy when he experiences the double consciousness, knowing full well that he is being controlled and made to speak and act against his interests but unable to do anything about it or to resist the compulsion to visit Helen Pensclosa when she summons him remotely; it is even worse when he is completely possessed by her and has no memory of what he has said and done while under her influence.

Knowing that he is being forced to ruin his professional career without even remembering the preposterous things he has said in his lectures is a torment to him.

Arthur Conan Doyle’s witch Helen Penclosa: Part III

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s occult novella The Parasite is a goldmine of supporting material for some of my ideas. It could be used as a teaching aid by people who are interested in informing – and warning - people about some types of unseen influences.

Part I of this series of articles introduced the main characters and outlined the plot; Part II described the effects that Helen Penclosa’s occult practices have on her victims. Part III gives more information about Miss Penclosa and her evil practices.

The source of Helen Penclosa’s powers

Where do Miss Penclosa’s powers come from?

By telling us that Helen Penclosa comes from Trinidad, Conan Doyle suggests that she has been involved with practices such as Voodoo or Obeah. He never states this explicitly, but there can be no other reason for his including this information.

It is a clue; it is a trope of the time; it is similar to saying that she has spent some time in Tibet: readers of the day would infer that she acquired her occult powers in a remote, mysterious and exotic place. It is a cop-out that saves him from trying to explain the inexplicable.

Austin Gilroy thinks that a natural force is at work.

Helen Penclosa could well be a natural witch; her powers could have developed because of her unhappiness, lack of options and inability to obtain what she wants in the normal way.

If the definition of black magic as the illegitimate use of the powers of the subconscious mind for one’s own purposes is accepted, then Miss Penclosa practices black magic.

The exercising of Helen Penclosa’s powers

Helen Penclosa is aware of her powers and uses them deliberately, unlike some of the unconscious witches I have written about.

She goes by the book by asking permission before she hypnotises someone. Agatha Marden says that she would love to be put under the influence!

Arthur Conan Doyle’s witch Helen Penclosa: Part II

The Parasite, a short novel about hypnotism by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, contains much material of interest. Part I introduced the main characters and outlined the plot; Part II will give some more details of the effects that Helen Penclosa’s occult practices have on her victims.

Conan Doyle tells us in this chilling little story how it looks and feels to be controlled by hypnotism, suggestion and even possession by this evil witch and energy vampire.

Under the influence: Agatha Marden

As a demonstration of her power, and proof that she can make people do things that they would never do of their own free will, Helen Penclosa hypnotises Austin Gilroy's young fiancée Agatha, ordering her to break off the engagement.

Agatha visits Gilroy and speaks her piece as commanded. She is not her normal self in any way. She looks pale and constrained. She speaks robotically; she repeats several times that their engagement is at an end.

“Her voice was cold and measured; her manner strangely formal and hard. It seemed to me that she was absolutely resolved not to be drawn into any argument or explanation.“

“…That Agatha, who of all women of my acquaintance has the best balanced mind, had been reduced to a condition of automatism appeared to be certain. A person at a distance had worked her as an engineer on the shore might guide a Brennan torpedo. A second soul had stepped in, as it were, had pushed her own aside, and had seized her nervous mechanism, saying: 'I will work this for half an hour.'" 

This invasion, or possession, is why Conan Doyle calls Miss Penclosa a parasite.

Arthur Conan Doyle’s witch Helen Penclosa: Part I

While doing some research for an article about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s life in Southsea, I discovered that he had written a short novel about occult forces called The Parasite:

“…his dark tale of an evil woman possessed of such hypnotic powers that she is able to induce by remote control not only murder, but passionate love as well, in the mind of her chosen victim.”

From  A Study in Southsea: The Unrevealed Life of Doctor Arthur Conan Doyle by Geoffrey Stavert.

Stavert’s summary made the story sound very interesting indeed: I immediately thought of psychic crime and psychological black magic.

I found The Parasite on Project Gutenberg. The novella, which was first published in 1894, is only four chapters long; the plot is simple and there are only a handful of characters. The language is rather old-fashioned and melodramatic and the story a bit contrived, but I found The Parasite worth reading as a source of inspiration for an article or two. It contains some very familiar elements and provides yet more independent confirmation of some of my ideas.

The characters in summary

The two main characters are Miss Helen Penclosa, the evil woman, and Austin Gilroy, the chosen victim.

Miss Penclosa, who possesses strong hypnotic powers and can project herself into people’s bodies and take command of them, is middle-aged. She is small and frail; she has a pale, peaky face and light brown hair; she has a crippled leg. Her strange, grey-green eyes are both furtive and fierce. 

She is silent and colourless, retiring and lacking presence, except when she talks about and exercises her powers. She is unscrupulous; she has no ethical sense at all; she is evil. Conan Doyle calls her a parasite and a devil woman; I would call her an energy vampire and a witch.

Austin Gilroy is a professor, although he is only 34 years old. Physiology is his field. He is interested only in the material world, and has trained himself to deal only with facts, truth, logic and proof. Yet while he operates on pure reason, he is aware of his real self:

“…by nature I am, unless I deceive myself, a highly psychic man. I was a nervous, sensitive boy, a dreamer, a somnambulist, full of impressions and intuitions. My black hair, my dark eyes, my thin, olive face, my tapering fingers, are all characteristic of my real temperament…”

The Three Hostages: a sinister scenario

I was very young when I first read John Buchan’s thriller The Three Hostages, an adventure story that features Richard Hannay and contains a fascinating mystery to be solved.

At the time, certain expressions that would now be considered ‘politically incorrect’ and offensive did not register, nor did I see anything particularly noteworthy in the horrific mental state of the hostages and the unpleasant, alien conditions in which they were forced to live. At the time, the clues to the hiding places of the hostages and the challenge of finding and freeing them were the most gripping aspects of the story. 

The details of life as lived by privileged, well-connected people were very interesting too. I found the book exciting and informative. I envied Richard Hannay: I wanted that sort of action and lifestyle for myself!

Now, after many years of investigating unseen influences, it is the references to magic, wizards and the stealing of souls, the discussions of psychology and the subconscious mind and the descriptions of hypnotism and mind control that are for me the most significant aspects of the book. 

As his friend and colleague Sandy Arbuthnot says to Richard Hannay:

“…the compulsion of spirit by spirit.  That, I have always believed, is to-day, and ever has been, the true magic.”

There is a lot of general information in The Three Hostages about the sinister and unethical practices mentioned above, and about the attributes, abilities and personality of the kind of man who would make use of them.

Now, what holds my attention above everything else is the effect that these practices have when applied to the hostages, also the details of hostages’ lives while in captivity.  Much of this has relevance to the real world; some of it is also very familiar to me. The resemblances that I can see and the connections that I can make to my own life are very painful to dwell on.