The slightly salacious inclusion of the provocative term “Demons” in the title notwithstanding, this slim text efficiently, elliptically ties together the shaggiest of dog stories into a tangential masterpiece.

I adore this guy's work, unreservedly. Lecouteux's work always makes me think. I'm always enhanced, in some oblique way, by reading one of his books.

Demons and Spirits of the Land is no different – it's another wild folkloric ramble through various centuries and dozens of texts, from one side of Europe to the other, and leaves the reader with more questions than answers. But – the questions are good and necessary ones.

Saints as the “Athletes of Christ”

For me, this text caused a complete reappraisal of what Christianity had to offer early Pagans – namely, a powerful, centralising force, enabling the peasants spiritual domination over assorted troublesome entities, and their fearful conditions.

These canonised heroes of the faith come across as motley but muscular and sincere quasi-vagrants; they drift into town, deliver wild eyed sermons and promises of eternal life, then head alone into the wilds.

They return with the spirits, shackled and subservient, handing them over to the retribution of unwashed peasants in exchange for their eternal souls.

The terrorised peasants usually abuse then kill the elementals – a diminished end for these beautiful, enchanting, gift-giving beings.

Lecouteux delicately handles this matter – all sides get a fair hearing, good representation, relatable motivation. This in itself is commendable and gently instructive.

As a teacher, he deftly coaxes sparks of subject interest into a hungry fire that throw back the darkness, while casting longer shadows still.

Aside, comment: At Carcosa Bound, we do not approve of or condone this sort of behaviour towards spirits. We are firm proponents of overcoming our own terror, our ignorance of the unknown, as well as any material and spiritual poverty. We prefer interactions based on appropriate communication, knowledge exchange and mutual benefit.

Do your thing, relentlessly. Take no shit, generally. Harm ye none, conditionally. Do what thou wilt.

Experience and results to date suggest those of the spirit world respond to this, as well.

Questing Knights

In contrast to the adventures of ragged missionaries with their miraculous saviour, the other lead actors notably referenced as having landspirit dealings are quest-bound knights.

These either vanquish spirits, or more frequently encounter some sort of pivotal insight. Arthurian Grail quests abound.

Frequently – and in stark contrast to the early Christian stories – the accounts of the knights feature failure and humility, and the improvements made possible through this.

Lecouteux also makes a number of illuminating comments and hints on the identity and mysteries of the Green Knight, encountered by Gawain, of the Court of Arthur. Water spirits also frequently feature, as does a taxonomy of sorts, for easy identification in the field, as it were.

He leaves a trail of breadcrumbs, in the form of excellent references to many free-to-access public domain works, for those who wish to explore further.

A course of instruction, in a twilight tradition

The short monograph offers an introduction to a number of key texts.

Among these – Melusine, compiled by Jean d'Arras in the 14th Century. Huon of Bordeaux, a Chivalric tale featuring the Fae King Oberon, who has a curiously similar (near-identical) description to Lucifer in the grimoire tradition.

A Book on Nymphs, Sylphs, Pygmies, and Salamanders, and other spirits, by Paracelsus. His recommendations equip the naive reader to explore these primary texts for themselves.

Really, one could wish for no better or more expert guide for forays into these difficult, archaic texts, and the veiled mysteries they contain.

I'd hesitate to say you could become a modern-day Geralt of Rivia with this book alone – but it could put you on this track, or a number of others.

If this is your jam, highly recommended.

#review #spirits #myth

This charming, oblique little text contains a range of challenges to the human security system – physical, social and philosophical.

It takes the operator outside, in many ways.

My own recollections and thoughts, from this very strange time

When actually trying to do this stuff, it has a way of really reminding you how these texts can make you seem really mad, bad and dangerous to know.

This is the work of warriors, and requires a level of physicality, fearlessness, skill, cunning, and perhaps a bit of wilful stupidity and stubbornness.

Climb a tree, they said

The nearest trees to me what the time were, actually, really tall; pines, probably 80 or 100 years old. To climb these things needs some practice, skill and also the stones, man. Astaroth doesn't want any dropnuts in her crew.

To climb them to the top – where the branches are flimsy enough to actually be cut with a single blow – means getting quite high. If the operator falls, they will probably not experience a good outcome.

In the southern hemisphere, following this as written means trekking around in the woods in the winter, which was bracing.

The South winds blast straight up from Antarctica, and the trees move, too. Trees move a lot, in the wind. You really notice this when you're in them. They also grow in spirals, which is a completely different insight. I developed a whole new appreciation for trees.

I tested this in mid-Summer too, as perhaps the author intended. This work led to spending a lot of time in the woods – and at the peak of Summer provided completely different experience.

Wandering around, chanting the extremely powerful Orison of the Salamanders, I experienced the sense of every living thing rejoicing in it's elemental empire, and burning with aspiration towards the Sun itself.

Backdoor low-Platonism, church skulking, priestcraft

This engagement with this process allowed me to get what JSK called the “low Platonism” of the grimoires, and set up the ground plan of an experimental and experiential world system – that, most importantly – is grounded in my insight.

Also, modern churches in my town don't have places to stash an ash-stained, poorly varnished wooden box. I did get to visit a lot of churches, though – so there is an element of comparative theological instruction here too.

This inability necessitated becoming a priest myself, learning Pyramidos and doing my own damn mass, but this is another story, with its own ludicrous tangents.

Grimoires have a range of challenges, and when approached directly, as a set of direct instructions, trigger insights in completely unexpected ways.

They're much more than a way to call spirits – they can make the operator into someone who spirits will respond to when called.

#grimoires #spirits

We crossed this a lot, as we explored the twisting mediaeval streets of this most unique city.

A local myth, directly aimed at tourists like me, suggests this is the outcome of a demonic pact.

The builder, Antonio da Ponte, was faced with parts of this huge, steep, conventionally – impossible bridge slipping into the canal overnight.

To correctly diagnose the problem, he spent his nights at the building site. There he met a tall, black man. Venerable texts like Grimorium Verum describe the chief Astaroth, should he deign to appear, in exactly this way, though no one mentions any names in the Venetian versions I came across.

This mysterious advisor told him the bridge would be impossible to build without his assistance, the price of which was the first soul to cross it. From desperation to complete this project, Antonio agreed, though throughout the build was haunted by the prospect of committing a fellow human to eternal damnation.

He devised a plan to drive a rooster, or a dog depending on your source, across the bridge, thereby cheating the devil his due.

The spirit lord would not be so easily tricked out of his consultancy fee, so either contrived to send a labourer to Antonio’s house on the eve of the bridge’s completion, or donned the workmanlike disguise himself. This labourer woke Antonio’s pregnant wife, saying there had been a terrible accident at the bridge; she ran all the way there, crossed the point of no return, and this demonic sovereign claimed not only one soul, but two: Antonio’s unborn son.

Further local legend has it, several hundred years later, a gondolier was travelling beneath the bridge, heard a sneeze, and shouted “bless you!”. The now-grown spirit child appeared on his boat, thanked him for releasing him from the conditions of his father's pact, and went on to fairer fields.

This a glimpse of the deep genius that abounds in this part of the world, the impression left by the numen of Geosophia. You can see its footprints on masterworks across time, like Argento’s Suspiria, or Verdi’s Macbeth. This deeply gothic sensibility is barely suppressed by the grid of Catholic churches that lock down the exuberant pandemonium of the place.

This episode poses wider questions too, on the nature of spiritual growth, as it were. If spiritual practices and experiences don't translate into temporal persistence – or at least action, what are they worth? What would you pay to achieve something impossible?

#travel #spirits