Another scene of interest from a Dion Fortune occult novel

As mentioned in the article inspired by The Demon Lover, there are scenes in Dion Fortune's occult novels that have particular relevance to some of the topics on here. 

This post features another of these scenes, this time from Moon Magic (1956). It presents the idea that people with certain metaphysical powers and the right training and intention can use occult methods to draw others to them for mutual benefit.

Lilith Le Fay calls out for a colleague
Moon Magic contains much occult-related material that people who live entirely in the three-dimensional universe would dismiss as ridiculous rubbish, purple prose, or, as Richard Hannay describes a speech he makes in John Buchan's Greenmantle, confounded nonsense!

I skip through many of the occult scenes myself, but find this novel worth reading for the commentary-inspiring material that it contains.  

Lilith Le Fay is one of the main characters. She is a priestess of Isis and a practitioner of ceremonial magic. 

She needs to find someone to work with her when she performs the rituals. She advertises the job vacancy in a very unusual way:

“There was nothing for me to do but watch and wait. I could not go and find the people I wanted; I had to wait for them to find me. This I knew they would do because I was sounding the call of Isis, vibrating it on the Inner Planes as a wireless operator sounds his key-call. Those who were on my wave-length would soon be picking it up, and then curious combinations of circumstances would do the rest. They would come from the ends of the earth like homing pigeons, picking up the call subconsciously and not knowing what it was that drew them.“

The procedure may seem preposterous and the practitioner delusional, but it works! Lilith Le Fay attracts the right man for the job by broadcasting on the right wavelength: she puts out the call, and a man who has the qualities that she requires eventually appears in her life.

The shadow side of the Moon Magic scene
Most people will immediately dismiss the suggestion that some people can communicate via other dimensions as very unlikely indeed - or even crazy. However, when people who are interested in unseen influences and have had certain unusual experiences are first introduced to this idea, they find that it makes sense and could explain a lot. 

Further consideration by such people may cause them to realise that, assuming it is correct, this proposition has some alarming implications; they may rightly suspect that the forces involved do not always work for the benefit of the people using or affected by them. 

In particular, there is a negative or shadow side to the calling phenomenon. 

A scene of special interest from a Dion Fortune occult novel

There are a few scenes in Dion Fortune's occult novels that have particular relevance to some of the material on here. 

These scenes contain familiar elements; they provide supporting evidence for some key theories about certain metaphysical influences and phenomena; they enable people to put similar experiences into a wider context and learn some useful lessons.

This post features one of these scenes. It caught my attention when I was skimming through Dion Fortune's novel The Demon Lover (1927). It describes the negative effect that a girl who is being controlled by an evil entity has on someone she encounters.

Bad energy repels the doctor
A mediumistic young girl called Veronica Mainwaring is a major character in The Demon Lover. While she is harmless in herself, everything changes when she comes under the hypnotic influence of a black magician called Justin Lucas.

After his death, he uses her to help him drain children of their vital energy so that he can materialise; some of the children die.

Possessed by the spirit of Lucas, a huge mastiff goes crazy and kills the doctor's son; this man had hoped to marry Veronica, so Lucas saw him as a rival.

Veronica is taking her morning walk when the doctor drives past in his dog cart:

“He gave her one glance, and shaking the reins, drove swiftly past without any other sign of recognition than was conveyed by that look of hate and repulsion.”

The doctor knows nothing but senses everything:

“...there was something about the girl which did not fall within the laws of his three-dimensional universe. What it was, he could not define, even to himself, but he hated and dreaded her as children and dogs hate and fear, without reason assigned, yet with an unerring instinct.“

The doctor senses that Veronica is overshadowed by Lucas's malign influence, he is repelled by the negative energy around her, and his intuition rightly tells him that she was somehow involved in his son's death. No wonder that he hates and fears and hurries away from her. 

Veronica behaves in a similar way towards the huge killer dog that she has inherited from Lucas. She is a dog lover and at first she quite likes the friendly old thing, but this changes after he comes under the evil influence of the dead Lucas:

“...to Veronica...the whole ‘feel’ of dog, kennel, and surroundings was so repellent that she drew hastily back and hurried away from the yard and its sinister occupant.”

A tale of two very convenient 'accidents'

The article about workplace memories was inspired by a few comments made to me by fellow workers many years ago. 

Two incidents involving another colleague surfaced in my mind recently while I was thinking about the past. Again, they seem much more significant now that they did at the time. They provide supporting evidence for some of my ideas about psychological black magic, one of the unseen influences that inspired the creation of this blog.

The first 'accident'
It all started when a colleague, a computer programmer I shall call Mrs M., realised that she had made a mistake after making some requested changes and putting the updated software onto a spool of magnetic tape for the computer operators to release into the live system. She suddenly thought of a possible problem; rather than confess and follow the proper procedures, she fixed the error and when she thought that no one was looking went to replace the original tape with the new one that she had made.

Mrs M. got caught by the operators in the act of substituting the new tape for the old one. She was not too popular with them and they had a big argument. She became very upset and said, “Why can't they trust me?” 

The atmosphere was becoming increasingly charged, then her phone rang. It was a neighbour: Mrs M.'s little girl had just fallen from her bike and the neighbour had carried her inside. She was slightly hurt, and the neighbour wanted Mrs M. to go and collect her.

So Mrs M. was off the hook – for a while at least. She had a perfect pretext for escaping from the office and the trouble that she had created.

Acting unprofessionally and out of character revisited

A few examples of people causing damage by acting unprofessionally and out of character have been given in the past; the time has now come to go into this phenomenon in a little more detail. 

The multi-level approach to finding explanations article mentions some of the influences that might cause people who are normally professional and efficient to behave uncharacteristically and make serious mistakes; this article revisits the issue, expands on these influences and includes some supporting material from previous articles.

The cases of interest here are those that occur at the third level down, the dimension where unseen influences such as energy vampires, people with witch-like personalities, psychic crime and psychological black magic operate.

There are questions to ask and possibilities to eliminate at each level before descending to the one below; there are also some points to be made before starting the exercise.

The definition of the problem
It is important to understand that examples of people doing something wrong are worth investigating only where two elements appear together i.e. when someone acts both unprofessionally and out of character. After all, some people will act unprofessionally because this is their usual mode of operation; not only that, a few of these incompetents might act out of character by doing a good, professional job for once! Neither of these groups is relevant here.

Acceptable margin of error
People are not machines; they sometimes have off days. Occasional errors will be made and should be allowed for, but an investigation into the cause is called for when so much damage has been done that the mistake cannot be overlooked, excused or explained away.

This is where the multi-level approach comes in.

Level 1: the person and the job
On this, the top, level, it is best to work systematically through a list of the most obvious and likely explanations for a damaging, out of character action. The possibilities fall into two groups: one is of factors in the life of the person who made the mistake and the other of common and typical problems with the job.

Charlotte Brontë and Jane Eyre: some 'coincidences' revisited

The 'coincidence' of Charlotte Brontë's childhood obsession with Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington and the subsequent appearance in her life of Arthur Bell Nichols was first mentioned in an article about being careful what you dwell on and again in an article featuring Jean Rhys.  

Another 'coincidence' in Charlotte Brontë's life that is worth highlighting and was also mentioned earlier is her accident involving a horse that echoes something that happened in Jane Eyre, which was published seven years before the event. 

Other people have noticed these connections. While they may assume that they are just interesting, but not particularly significant, coincidences, I thought at the time that certain unseen influences were at work, and I still think so.

Many years have passed since I first mentioned these two 'coincidences'. Since then, I have come across other examples of such coincidences and accidents. 

Something I recently read in Carole Angier's biography of Jean Rhys inspired me to take another look at the two incidents involving horses in the light of some of the later discoveries and produce an updated and enhanced version of events and my ideas about them.

Jane Eyre and the horse incident
The incident involving Jane Eyre and a horse occurs when she first encounters Mr Rochester. 

On the way to post a letter on a freezing winter's day, she sits on a stile for a while. She hears the sound of approaching hooves, then Mr Rochester comes into view on his black horse. Just as they are passing her, the horse slips on the ice and comes crashing down. Mr Rochester is hurt, so he asks Jane to catch the horse for him. This is not an easy task:

“I...went up to the tall steed; I endeavoured to catch the bridle, but it was a spirited thing, and would not let me come near its head; I made effort on effort, though in vain: meantime, I was mortally afraid of its trampling fore-feet.”

From Jane Eyre

Jean Rhys: is psychology enough to explain everything?

The previous two articles in the series inspired by Carole Angier's biography Jean Rhys: Life and Work were created to answer one big question and one small one. One article gave some good reasons for reading such a depressing book; the other looked into the possibility that Diana Wynne Jones had used material from the biography in her book Black Maria. 

The time has now come to attempt to answer the question of questions: does Carole Angier's psychological interpretation of Jean Rhys's personality, behaviour and experiences cover and provide an explanation for everything? 

The connections and familiar metaphysical features and elements covered in previous articles support the idea that certain unseen influences were at work in Jean Rhys's life, but it is good practice to start with the most obvious explanations and move on and widen the enquiry only if these are found to be unsatisfactory.

Just as Aunt Maria operates on three levels, Jean Rhys and her life can be looked at from three viewpoints: the psychological, what might be called the occult, and something in between the two.

Carole Angier's psychological viewpoint is the first to be considered.

Jean Rhys's infantile personality
Carole Angier makes many insightful remarks about Jean Rhys and provides much biographical material to support her ideas. 

She makes the point that Jean Rhys never grew up. This is very obvious: we do not need to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce that one! 

Jean Rhys and her witchlike personality

Just as psychological black magic is a major topic in this blog, so are witches, fictional or otherwise, unconscious or otherwise.

Carole Angier's biography Jean Rhys: Life and Work, which is generating a whole string of articles, contains material that suggests that Jean Rhys was witchlike in many ways. This material includes the devastating effect that she had on people close to her and her attitude, behaviour and experiences throughout her life. 

It was interesting to learn that in later years she became completely bent over, like an old witch in a fairytale.

This picture makes her look rather sinister:

A witch for a neighbour
Jean Rhys said herself that her neighbours in Holt in Norfolk called her crazy and a witch, and that her neighbours in the Devon village of Cheriton Fitzpaine also called her a witch. She said that one of these neighbours was a witch herself, and that there was black magic in the village!

The evil witch in action
Carole Angier tells us that in later life Jean Rhys had dreadful moods in which she became sinister, witchlike and cruel. As mentioned in the article about Diana Wynne Jones's evil witch Aunt Maria, in one of these episodes Jean terrified her nurse/assistant by locking the door to prevent escape. Carole Angier uses an interesting expression when recounting this incident:

“Janet had 'never been so frightened', 'she'd never wanted to get out of anywhere more'. As though by black magic, Jean had transferred her own worst feelings of terror and entrapment to another person. She had made someone suffer like her.” 

Jean Rhys, Jane Eyre and psychological black magic

Psychological black magic, the illegitimate use of subtle forces, is an unseen influence of particular interest. This blog is full of examples of and references to it. I have learned what to look out for over the years, and I have recently seen some material in Carole Angier's biography Jean Rhys: Life and Work that suggests to me that psychological black magic was at work in Jean Rhys's life.

This article covers a small coincidence involving names that reminds me of something similar in the life of Charlotte Brontë, with whose work Jean Rhys was very familiar.

First, some basic information.

Jean Rhys and Jane Eyre

Jean Rhys read Jane Eyre as a girl in Dominica. It made such an impression that decades later she wrote a prequel in the form of Wide Sargasso Sea, her most admired and commercially successful novel. 

I suspect that her imagination was particularly stirred when she read that Mr Rochester's wife also came from the British West Indies – Mr Rochester brought Bertha Mason home to England from Jamaica.

I also suspect that Jean Rhys wished that an English gentleman, someone similar to the romantic Mr. Rochester, would do the same for her! He would rescue her; he would take her away from her unsatisfactory life.

She was sent away from Dominica to school in England in 1907, the year of her 17th birthday. She hoped to find a feeling of belonging there. She may also have hoped to meet the English gentleman of her dreams there. As Mr Rochester says to Jane Eyre:

“...the mountain will never be brought to Mahomet, so all you can do is to aid Mahomet to go to the mountain...”

The uncanny timing of an unwelcome letter

I have mentioned in the past a particular form of unconscious sabotage, one that involves timing. Madeleine L’Engle’s Zachary Grey for example is an expert at taking actions that might have been deliberately arranged to deplete or even wipe out his victim’s inner resources and reserves shortly before she needs to draw heavily on them. How could he have possibly known what was going to happen?

I have on several occasions been on the receiving end of such actions myself. The introductory article gives examples of letters that ‘by chance’ arrived at the worst possible time:

“Family letters were infrequent, so the timing of these two was very significant. It is amazing how these unconscious saboteurs can ensure that their victims are hit where and when it hurts most.”

Another such letter arrived out of the blue recently, just before I received some very depressing news. This time however I was not badly affected, just slightly annoyed. If this was yet another attempted attack, it fell very flat!

The unwelcome and unnecessary letter
A letter arrived in the post from a family member I have minimal contact with, offering to send someone round with anything I might need. This was completely unnecessary; I replied immediately that I had not got the coronavirus, had plenty of supplies, could easily get more and had people I could call on for assistance if required.

An hour or two later, I got an email from a friend telling me that her father had died. I knew that he had been ill, but thought that he was recovering. He was an exceptionally nice and kind man; this was not a devastating, heart-breaking bereavement, but I felt very sad indeed to think that I would never see him again.

What a coincidence that the only communication apart from Christmas cards that I have received from this person for many years should arrive just before I had some very bad news, and, conversely, that the only very upsetting news of this kind I have received for many years should have been preceded by this unexpected and unwelcome letter.

Distress signals attract predators yet again

A painful incident from last June has given me something to add to the article about distress signals attracting predators and the article about physical damage caused by energy vampires. It also provides a good example of how evil operates by the rulebook.

It happened just after I had become so upset while thinking about the past and the loss of some prospects for the future that I crossed over into the danger zone. I knew very well that it is best to stay at home when feeling this way, but I wanted to get some supplies in first so went on a shopping trip. My distress signals attracted a predator and I was too overwhelmed to be able to defend myself. 

As always, if I had been able to detect a potential attacker and take evasive action I wouldn’t have needed to!

I was on the return journey when someone asked me to help her lift her pushchair off the bus. I reacted automatically; I said, “Of course” and lifted one end. It was extremely heavy, and I soon realised that I had badly injured my lower back. 

My life was sabotaged. It took months before I was back to normal. All my plans for the summer, including some day trips to the seaside that I was really looking forward to, had to be abandoned.

Being mostly housebound once again - this time because of the coronavirus restrictions - has brought it all back. I have been replaying this incident in my mind and think it worth recording on here, not because of new insights and more lessons learned but because there are some familiar elements and it provides further confirmation of existing theories. 

Warning signals seen retrospectively
This woman asked for help. This is not usually necessary: as I have seen many times, people will offer to help get prams, shopping trolleys etc. on or off the bus without being asked. 

She asked me rather than any of the other, more suitable people who were standing around.

She homed in on and spoke to me when I was feeling very under the weather and was in a strange, detached state.

She sounded sour, gloomy and disapproving. She gave me the impression of being under a cloud of negativity.

I now see her as a disconnected person. I have the idea that she was a strategically placed pawn and that this episode was no accident.

96 years of John Buchan’s Three Hostages

The Three Hostages is the fourth in the series of John Buchan’s Richard Hannay adventures. 

It was first published in two instalments in the (London) Graphic Magazine in April and May 1924 then as a book in June 1924, so this month is the 96th anniversary of its first appearance.

The Three Hostages has already been the subject of one article, and there are references to the evil Dominick Medina and his powers of hypnotism in a few others.

So what more is there to say about this story?

There are two minor scenes that inspire commentary; one is rather painful to read and one is amusing.  The first is where Richard Hannay is very reluctantly recalled to action and the other is where he reveals to the enemy that he has been playing a part all along.

A point of particular interest is that Dominick Medina behaves like a cult leader.

Back to the battlefield
People who have had similar experiences will understand how Richard Hannay feels when he is asked to leave his beloved home, family and farm to take part in an investigation.

He receives a letter that destroys his peace of mind. It is as if his Eden has been invaded by a snake:

“I…felt very angry. Why couldn't the fools let me alone? As I went upstairs I vowed that not all the cajolery in the world would make me budge an inch from the path I had set myself. I had done enough for the public service and other people's interests, and it was jolly well time that I should be allowed to attend to my own.”

More occult-related damage to August Strindberg’s family

This is yet another article in the series inspired by the Swedish playwright August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno.

As described here, Strindberg made two of his older children very ill when his attempt to influence his little girl by the use of psychological black magic missed its mark.  

This article highlights two more examples from Inferno of the harmful effects that occult activities had on his family.

The two dabblers in the occult

Inferno has many references to the occult and its practitioners.

It is not always clear what aspect of the occult Strindberg is talking about. He could mean mediums and spiritualism or even just metaphysical books rather than ill-wishing, cursing and other forms of black magic in the case of two women connected to him who ‘studied occultism’.

Strindberg says this about his mother-in-law and aunt:

“Both starting from a neutral point of view as regards religion had begun to study occultism. From that moment onwards they suffered from sleepless nights, mysterious accidents accompanied by terrible fears, and at last, attacks of madness. The invisible furies pursue their prey up to the very gates of the city of refuge—religion.”

Attacks of madness? This sounds remarkably like what happened to the friend of Strindberg’s youth and his family, not to mention Strindberg himself.

Sleepless nights, terrible fears and mysterious accidents? These come with the territory.

Being hounded by invisible furies is a very good description of what happens to people who attract the attention of malevolent forces.

Some people contaminate everything and everyone they touch. 

Were the two women’s unwise activities and the devastating results caused or influenced by bad energy and malign forces that surrounded Strindberg?

We can’t be sure, but it seems likely.

Some miscellaneous material from Strindberg’s Inferno

This is yet another article in the series inspired by Colin Wilson’s references in The Occult to Swedish playwright August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno.

Included here are some miscellaneous incidents and details of yet another ‘friendship’ that ended badly. The material speaks for itself; it is all typical of Strindberg and his life; it is all typical of things that happen to people who use occult instead of natural methods to go through life and get what they want. 

The meal that backfired

This is a very small incident, but it is significant in terms of what happens to people who use psychological black magic.

Strindberg’s mother-in-law cooked what she said was his favourite dish; not only was it not at the top of his list, it was something he disliked more than anything else. He had to force himself to eat the revolting dish.

He got the exact opposite of what he expected.

The worst towns in Sweden

Strindberg said this:

“There are ninety towns in Sweden, and the powers have condemned me to go to the one which I most dislike.” 

The powers? He blamed ‘occultists and their secret powers’ for his many misfortunes when he himself was often the cause.

He moved on to another Swedish town:

“...I have made personal enemies here, and have contracted debts under circumstances which set my character in a dubious light... I have also here relations who ignore me, and friends who have left me to become my enemies. In a word, it is the worst place I could have chosen for a quiet residence; it is hell...”

So he ended up in the exact opposite of the peaceful refuge he wanted, with more former friends who had become his enemies and more debts. Same old same old...

Some afterthoughts about August Strindberg’s occult battles

I have had a few afterthoughts about the previously mentioned occult battles involving August Strindberg and his ‘friends’.

As described in the second article in the secret friend series, the theosophist made many threats when Strindberg refused to obey orders. In return, Strindberg threatened to use occult powers of his own. He warned his friend that what happened to someone who had tried to interfere with Strindberg’s destiny back in Sweden some years earlier could happen to him too.

Strindberg gives some details of his earlier encounter with this other man who, just as the secret friend would later do, tried to impose his will on Strindberg from a position of superiority.

I can see some common elements in his dealings with these two men. Some of my comments on Strindberg’s relationships with his mystery man and other people are relevant here too.

First approaches and negative responses

It was the other man who made the first move. Strindberg tells us:

“I received a letter from a friend of my youth inviting me and my children to stop with him for a year, he made no mention of my wife. This letter, with its affected style, its corrections and omissions, seemed to betray some hesitation on the part of the writer in the choice of the reasons which he alleged for his invitation. As I suspected some trap, I declined the offer in a few non-committal polite phrases.”

This reminds me of what happened years later when Strindberg received the first letter from his secret friend. He took offence at its tone and sent a discouraging reply.

A very good definition of a witch

I found a very good definition of a witch recently, from a writer I had never previously heard of:

“Perhaps I am the only person who, asked whether she were a witch or not, could truthfully say, ‘I do not know. I do know some very strange things have happened to me, or through me.’"
 From Bless This House by Norah Lofts

This is independent confirmation of something I have been thinking and writing about for many years. Strange things, both good and bad, do indeed happen to, through and around some people; the speaker above is far from being the only person to experience strange phenomena.

Synchronicity, very good or very bad timing and amazing coincidences are often involved, and so are what might be called blessing and, its opposite, cursing. The same person may be able to perform both actions:

“’Blessings be on this house,’ Granny said, perfunctorily. It was always a good opening remark for a witch. It concentrated people's minds on what other things might be on this house.”

From Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett

Terry Pratchett’s witch books are very amusing, with occasional serious comments and thought-provoking ideas about magic and witches. 

“There were really only four types of people in the world: men and women and wizards and witches.”

From I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry Pratchett

August Strindberg’s mystery man again

This article in the series inspired by Swedish playwright August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno is an addition to the one about the American mystery man who was for a while Strindberg’s close and sole companion.

It contains a few more ideas about this episode in his life. It is useful to put these things into some sort of context, so although not all of the material is directly relevant it is connected to Strindberg in some way. Even Nietzsche gets a mention!

The ‘former American friend’

In this case, it is not obvious who is the main victim and who the victimiser.

Perhaps this man was a mirror or a messenger. Perhaps Strindberg appeared and behaved to others as the mystery man did to him. Perhaps Strindberg had just as bad an effect on the man - and others - as the man had on him. It is often said that like attracts like and a man is known by the company he keeps.

It could just be that both men were in a psychotic state at the time so were strongly drawn to each other.

There is no free will at the lowest levels, just strong currents that can overwhelm people. Maybe both men were trapped in a bad psychological neighbourhood, a place where no normal healthy person could or would venture.   

Maybe his use of black magic against his little daughter put Strindberg into the power of something that only lets its hostages and puppets associate with others in the same position.

Perhaps some scripted scenarios were at work.

August Strindberg and the mystery man

Colin Wilson’s references in The Occult to the Swedish playwright August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno have inspired many articles. This one describes Strindberg’s involvement with a mysterious man, the artist previously introduced as his ‘former American friend’.

Strindberg generously took this man into his life for a while, only to be met with envy and a refusal to acknowledge his successes. Strindberg changed for the worse, both inwardly and outwardly, during the time that this man was his close and sole companion.

Was this relationship merely one that was typical of the time, the place and the people involved, or were unseen influences at work?

There are certainly a few familiar metaphysical elements in the case.

How it all began

Strindberg tells of how a stranger, an American artist, turned up in a Paris restaurant that he and his circle liked to visit.

Although this man seemed like an active and bold spirit and was like a breath of fresh air, Strindberg experienced some vague feelings of mistrust. He sensed that the confident demeanour was just a façade and all was not well below the surface.

His instincts were correct. Just about everything in this man’s life that could go wrong had gone wrong. He soon approached Strindberg for help:

“One evening the unfortunate man came into my room and asked for permission to remain there a short time. He looked like a lost man, and such in fact he was. His landlord had driven him out of his studio, his grisette had left him, he was head over ears in debt, and his creditors were dunning him; he was insulted in the streets by the supporters of his unpaid models…

Since he was also heavily in debt to the restaurant, he had to go about the streets, hungry. Among other things he confessed that he had taken morphia enough to kill two people, but death apparently did not yet want him.”

In other words, he and his life were in a complete mess.

Strindberg’s string of misfortunes: Part V

Previous articles in the series inspired by Colin Wilson’s references in The Occult to an episode in August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno cover some of the misfortunes that Strindberg brought upon himself by deliberately using occult techniques in an attempt to influence his family remotely.

This article will cover a few more incidents of particular interest. It describes some minor accidents and bizarre and offensive behaviour by random strangers that ruined Strindberg’s enjoyment when he visited a café and a restaurant.  

After describing one accident, Strindberg assures the reader that he is speaking the truth. I believe that Strindberg is indeed telling the truth in his accounts of all these incidents. You couldn’t make all this up! The small details are very convincing, and once again there are some familiar elements in his stories.

Strindberg and the café incidents

Not long after he had performed his evil action, Strindberg experienced a string of small but very annoying and sometimes amusing - although not to him - incidents every time he went to a certain Paris café. 

Strindberg’s main pleasure in life at the time was to sit with a glass of absinthe, a cigarette and some newspapers under a chestnut tree on the terrace of a café that he favoured. He would go in the early evening to relax for an hour or so after finishing his day’s work; he favoured a particular spot that he thought of as his place. Then it all started to go wrong:

“...this hour of a visionary happiness, for from this evening onwards it is disturbed by a series of annoyances which cannot be attributed to chance. ... I find my place, which has been reserved for me daily for nearly two years, occupied; all the other chairs are also taken. Deeply annoyed, I have to go to another café.”

He returned the next day, only for this to happen:

“My old corner ... is again vacant, and I am again under my chestnut behind the Marshal, feeling contented, even happy. My well-concocted absinthe is there, my cigarette lighted, and the Temps spread out.

Then a drunken man passes; a hateful-looking fellow, whose mischievous, contemptuous air annoys me. His face is red, his nose blue, his eyes malicious. I taste my absinthe, and feel happy not to be like this sot.... There! I don't know how, but my glass is upset and empty. Without sufficient money to order another, I pay for this and leave the café. Certainly it was again the Evil One who played me this trick.”

August Strindberg and his Inferno

Colin Wilson’s book The Occult provided the lead for a series of articles about the string of misfortunes that the playwright August Strindberg brought upon himself by consciously and deliberately using occult techniques in an attempt to influence his family remotely.

Although there are a few more misfortunes still to come, I have taken time out to cover a few associated points and issues. 

One very obvious question to ask is how much of what Strindberg wrote in his book Inferno is actually true. There is also the problem of the accounts of his experiences getting changed or lost in translation.

Problems with the Inferno book

Colin Wilson gives a good summary of some of the incidents; his account made me want to read the whole story for myself. I was delighted to find Inferno available in the public domain on Project Gutenberg. However, there are some drawbacks that other people interested in going to directly to the source should be aware of.  

August Strindberg was Swedish; he wrote Inferno in French; there are many different English editions and translations available, with a variety of introductions.

Inferno is a novel. It is autobiographical, but Strindberg’s stories about incidents in his life may have been invented, exaggerated or distorted, possibly for concealment or for dramatic purposes.

Strindberg jumps around in time and from place to place and country to country, so it is not always easy to see when and where an incident happened and whether or not it can be directly connected to his evil action against his family.

Strindberg sounds melodramatic and paranoid for much of the time. He frequently mentions a ‘Hidden Hand’ that he believes guides events and intervenes in his affairs, for good and evil. He was an absinthe drinker and is said to have suffered from schizophrenia. This makes it difficult to take some of his ramblings and ravings seriously; it also makes it difficult to determine whether or not something actually happened, and if so whether or not it had any real significance.

Strindberg’s string of misfortunes: Part IV

The previous articles in the series inspired by an episode in August Strindberg’s Inferno and Colin Wilson’s account of it in The Occult give details of some of the unpleasant experiences that Strindberg brought on himself by deliberately using occult techniques in an attempt to influence his family remotely.

Such activities are asking for trouble. They surround the practitioner with bad energy and evil influences which affect not only them but also the people around them.

This article uses some minor incidents from Inferno to illustrate this point. They seem very significant to me because they provide independent confirmation of what I have read elsewhere; I have also experienced something similar myself.

Bad energy and Strindberg’s little girl

The following incident took place after Strindberg got back together with his wife and little girl. His daughter was two and a half years old at the time:

“During the evening meal the following incident happens. In order to help my little daughter, who cannot yet help herself, I touch her hand quite gently and kindly. The child utters a cry, draws her hand back, and casts at me a glance full of alarm.

When her grandmother asks what is the matter, she answers, ‘He hurts me.’ In my confusion I am unable to utter a word. How many persons have I deliberately hurt, and hurt still, though without intending it.”

Some people have a very damaging effect on others because of what they are surrounded with and broadcasting.

At least Strindberg felt bad about hurting his child; some parents add insult to injury by punishing their children for shrinking from and avoiding them.