August Strindberg and some suspicious deaths

August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno is inspiring post after post. It is full of material relevant to this blog.

It took three articles to cover the story of the relationship between August Strindberg and his secret friend, the man who was determined to make Strindberg admire the works of Madame Blavatsky and become a theosophist.

The relationship operated on three levels: it can be looked at in terms of two men quarrelling and falling out, a cult member attacking a target who refused to be recruited and two black magicians having an occult battle.

There is something more to say the black magic aspect. This article will cover some suspicious deaths that Strindberg mentions in connection with the battle and its aftermath, the battle that took place only in their letters and on other dimensions as they never met in real life.

The first two deaths

Two prominent men just happened to die shortly after something relevant by Strindberg had been published, and the secret friend believed that Strindberg had caused the deaths.

In Strindberg’s own words:

“By a diabolical chance during our paper war, the following incident takes place: L'Initiation publishes an article by me which criticises the current astronomical system. A few days after its appearance Tisserand, the head of the Paris observatory, dies. In an access of mischievous humour I trace a connection between these two things, and mention also that Pasteur died the day after I published Sylva Sylvarum.

My friend, the theosophist, does not know how to take a joke, and being superstitious above the average, and perhaps, more deeply initiated in black magic than I, gives me clearly to understand that he regards me as a wizard.”

So Strindberg thought that the two deaths were just coincidences, but his secret friend blamed him for them. When it comes to the attribution of sinister occult powers, it is a case of the pots calling the kettles black. The two men really did deserve each other!

Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part III

There is more than one way of looking at the story of August Strindberg and his secret friend.

Not only can we see it as a falling out between a cult member and the person he targeted for cultivation and recruitment, we can also treat it as an occult war between two black magicians. Either way, we have two men quarrelling in a very uncivilised and low-class way.

These scenarios or interpretations of events are not mutually exclusive; they all have relevance to the case. This final article in the series will cover these different dimensions of Strindberg’s story.

The cult member and the target

The secret friend’s persistence is sinister. Surely a normal, decent person would have realised long ago that Strindberg was just not buying Madame Blavatsky and her ideology and given up trying to sell to and recruit him.  He sounds just like one of those Multi-level Marketers who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer! 

Strindberg says that this man was very anxious for him to give a good opinion of Blavatsky’s book. His reaction to Strindberg’s criticism is a classic, textbook example of a cult member’s behaviour when the cult leader or the ideology is criticised or someone refuses to join after being targeted.

So why exactly was this man so determined to recruit Strindberg and why did he react the way he did when he finally failed?

I get the impression that some cult members are controlled - or even possessed - and under orders; I sense fear in addition to anger: they behave as if they will be terribly punished if they don’t complete their assignments successfully. They will pay for it if the targeted prey escapes.

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

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.