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He rejects later alot of what was written in that book of lies
I assume that by 'that book of lies' you mean the Book of Lies, Murph. OK, so Crowley rejected his book - so what? Just because he wrote the damn thing, does that make him the end-all be-all master of its interpretation and meaning? I find that once written, literature tends to become independent of an artist, in the sense that the author's opinion of her own work doesn't have some special authority behind it that makes it better than any other well-reasoned reader's view. Look at George Lucas - he felt that the original Star Wars trilogy (Episodes 4-6) desperately needed some revisions, new scenes, fancy CGI effects, and whatnot. These revisions weren't needed, at least in my opinion. He created these movies, but that didn't make his later opinions the one true way. His later involvement is not 'right' simply because he made the damn movies. Same with Crowley - just because he later rejected this particular book, doesn't mean we should on the basis of Crowley's supreme authority. And considering that you haven't even read the damn thing, who are you to tell us that it is wrong, and have any weight behind your opinion? Also, have you or anyone else considered another thread for the oft unrelated topics that have been broached?
Jesus. Hey-Zeus, even.
OK, anyway - the Book of Lies - Brilliant and Bullshit. Some of it is chock full of quasi-Freudian sexist shite. I mean, "Life is as ugly and necessary as the female body" (chapter 35), "the jewel... excludes... lower animals, including woman" (chapter 53 commentary), and "the female is... seperated from the male, in order to reproduce the male in a superior form" (I guess (chapter 35 commentary). That's some crap, eh? Common enough belief at the time, but that don't mean it ain't crap. Then there's "this chapter is an apology for the universe" (chapter 57 commentary). Can someone explain that to me? "All place is wrong" (same chapter) - commenting on the supposedly fallen nature of our reality? Good times.
Still, he pulls out some interesting points - chapter 41, which basically makes a case against looking for answers in the book, but advocates that we look for them in practice, in the work itself. Crowley's insistence that we avoid asking him questions despite his self-proclaimed authority reminds me of the quote, 'ask no questions, and I'll tell no lies' - basically, any attempt to wrestle Crowley's answers out of his head will pollute our own work, through the subversion of our own purposes and answers by replacing them with Crowley's. Another good chapter is numbah 34, the Smoking Dog, in which Crowley describes 'the Comedy of Pan:' 'that man should think he hunteth, while those hounds [Love and Death] hunt him.' To me, this is a wonderful inversion of my normal idea of love, that being something that I 'pursue,' even though it's rather debateable whether or not I choose whom I love. The Tragedy of Man is "when facing Love and Death he turns to bay.' That is, he attacks as a 'boar,' attempting to destroy God's eternal hounds, a fruitless task. Crowley advocates that we "rob the creator of his cruel sport." The only methodology for such that I can think of involves embracing Love and Death as allies, through whatever means you can find. The exact method of such acts lies elsewhere - what exercises exist for such? Meditating on death? Being alive, and thinking Big Thoughts? What practical acts does this book inspire, other than the Mass of the Phoenix (44), and eating sexual fluids, which we've discussed in some detail? I ask because I didn't really read the book with that in mind, though I'm trying again now. |
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