Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part II

The story in his autobiographical novel Inferno of August Strindberg’s relationship with his ‘secret friend’ has few original elements; much of it is depressingly familiar, even when read for the first time.

While Inferno was an unexpected place to find independent confirmation of some of my ideas about games cult members play, I was not at all surprised to find yet another example of the ‘falling for a false image and going from worship to total disillusionment' syndrome or to see that Strindberg’s ‘friends’ usually turned into what he called false friends, faithless friends, former friends and enemies!

Feuding occultists are nothing new either.

Part I ended with the start of what Strindberg called a ‘paper war’, with Strindberg’s secret friend and benefactor revealing his true intentions and threatening to call on occult powers to force Strindberg to accept the theosophist Madame Blavatsky as his teacher.

So what did Strindberg do next?

Strindberg’s counter-threat

Strindberg’s response to the threat shows that the two men deserved each other! Like really does attract like.

Strindberg replied that he would call on occult powers of his own if the secret friend tried to interfere with his destiny! As a warning, he told his secret friend about what had happened ten years earlier to a man who tried to influence him against his will. This man sounds rather like the secret friend:

“This man...in spite of his display of sympathy, was not really my well-wisher. An absolute tyrant, he wanted to interfere with my destiny, to tame and subdue me, in order to show me his superiority.”

Same game, different player it seems. This man received some severe, family-related blows; Strindberg suggests that he brought this trouble on himself because he played with fire when he tried to interfere in Strindberg’s life.

The secret friend did not give up easily; he was not deterred by this implied threat.

Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part I

Previous articles cover August Strindberg’s ‘friendships’ with the man he called the ‘Danish painter’ and with the ‘mystery man’; now it is time to look at Strindberg’s relationship with someone he called his ‘secret friend’.

Strindberg had a history of falling out with people and breaking off relationships. He tells us in Inferno that the Danish painter became his enemy and that he and the down-and-out mystery man cooled off and never saw or heard from each other again. Then there was the correspondence with Nietzsche that lasted for only a short time.

It is easy to deduce from this what would eventually happen in the case of the secret friend. According to Strindberg, this man turned not just from a friend into an enemy but from an angel into a demon! 

My guess is that the secret friend was a demon all along but for a while concealed his real nature behind a mask of benevolence.

This case is of interest not only because of what it says about Strindberg’s pattern of relationships and the sort of people he became involved with, but also because this secret friend behaved like a cult member. I was surprised to recognise in this story some elements previously featured in articles about cults. I detected the Sole Supplier Syndrome for example; the infuriating  Superiority Syndrome is much in evidence, and so is the dreaded Attack-dog Syndrome!

Strindberg’s ‘secret friend’

Stella Benson had her imaginary Secret Friends; Strindberg had someone he called his ‘secret friend’ who offered financial and other support, playing, as he said, “...a decisive rôle in my life as mentor, counsellor, comforter, judge, and, not least, as a reliable helper in various times of need.”

So why would this man do all that for someone he had never met? Did he have ulterior motives and a hidden agenda, or was he just a benefactor, a patron who recognised Strindberg’s talents and wanted to encourage and assist him?

The answer seems obvious to me: the secret friend cultivated the relationship with Strindberg because he was after something. I have highlighted some key statements that give the game away.

Today is Rafael Sabatini’s birthday

The novelist Rafael Sabatini was born on this day, April 29th, in 1875 in Italy.

I have always thought of Rafael Sabatini as a member of a special trinity. Like the other two members John Buchan and Anthony Hope, he provided food and fuel for the imagination and a chance to escape from the mundane world. He gave a taste of romance, excitement and adventure, often in glamorous and historic settings, to people who had little chance of getting anything like it in real life.

John Buchan was also born in 1875, and by coincidence there are significant occasions in February for all three men: Anthony Hope was born on February 9th; John Buchan died on February 11th and Rafael Sabatini died on February 13th.

I put Rafael Sabatini above Anthony Hope and below John Buchan when it comes to both my enjoyment of their books and finding them a good source of material for articles about unseen influences.

Previous references

Although his books do not inspire commentary the way John Buchan’s do, Rafael Sabatini has been mentioned in a few articles. His wise words about equality have been quoted; the tragic deaths of his son and step-son and his obvious favouring of heroes with black hair over their rivals with blond hair have also been discussed.

To mark the occasion, I want to say a little more about Sabatini and his books.

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

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.”

Something about Project Gutenberg

Many articles on here say that a particular book is available on Project Gutenberg. This post contains some basic information that someone who is unfamiliar with the enterprise may find useful. 

Project Gutenberg websites host thousands of free-to-read books that are in the public domain. Their copyrights have expired. They can be read online in various languages, formats and editions. Books can even be downloaded from the digital library.

There is a lot of general information about Project Gutenberg in Wikipedia and on the Project websites themselves. It is best for interested people to go direct to the sources and look at the rules, the catalogues and the search and other options, but I want to say a few things about my experiences of using this wonderful resource. 

I prefer paper books, preferably with the original illustrations, but have little space for a library of my own. Project Gutenberg is an ideal place to find the classics, some old friends and books whose printed versions are very expensive or unavailable. Some of the eBooks even have illustrations.

I may want to refer to certain books from time to time; going to Project Gutenberg saves me from having to keep getting them from the public library or storing my own copies. It is often much easier to search the digital copies for remembered topics or phrases than it is to try to find something in a printed book.

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.