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Three Books of Occult Philosophy, translated by Eric Purdue

Three Books of Occult Philosophy, by Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa, translated by Eric Purdue
Inner Traditions, 164411416X, 864 pages, November 2021

As a practicing astrologer and magician, of course I’ve skimmed Three Books of Occult Philosophy by Heinrich Corenlius Agrippa. It’s a foundation of Western occultism after all. But if I’m being honest, the editions thus far, such as the one edited by Willis F. Whitehead in 1898 or more recently Donlad Tyson in 2018, just never seemed to keep my attention. My experience reading Eric Purdue’s translation of Three Books of Occult Philosophy thus far has been entirely different though. I’ve been utterly engrossed, pouring over the information, meticulously researching references to other sources, and for the first time comprehending the text.

And I think this is because there is a prominence to this set. The sturdiness of the black box that houses the three books (The Natural World, The Celestial World, and The Divine World) takes up space, making itself known on my bookshelf. This is one of those sets I know I’ll return to year after year, making the quality of it very important. Plus, I feel pretty cool having it displayed in my living room. It is a truly collector’s item for one’s occult library, as well as a worthy investment for extensive amounts of wisdom within the text.

The books themselves are very big! I measured them, and they are over 10 inches tall and 7 inches wide. I personally love this because I am often referring to them in my practice and it’s helpful to have such a heavy-duty, substantial book where I am not constantly having to try to keep the pages open or squinting to read the writing. For instance, I’ve spent hours drawing the planetary seals for sigils and the size of the book makes it much easier, especially since sometimes I even lay paper over the images in the book to copy from.

Another significant thing about Purdue’s translation of the Three Books of Occult Philosophy is the first English translation published in the last 350, adding to the distinctiveness of this particular set. I thoroughly enjoyed, as well as found helpful, Purdue’s “Translator’s Introduction” that describes why a new translation was needed, in addition to how his translation differs from others. Some reasons cited for the need for this new translation include mistranslation, lack of technical knowledge of previous translators, archaic English that is distracting to read (yes, I concur on this one!!), and incorrect graphics. In some cases, Purdue explains, flaws in previous translations have continued to be compounded rather than corrected with additional translations.

Purdue’s intention in producing this translation was to create a new edition of the Three Books of Occult Philosophy directly from the original Latin and to cross-reference Agrippa’s sources.

“Our translation attempts as much as possible to cite sources that were available to Agrippa. This has allowed us to largely reconstruct Agrippa’s library and has demystified his method of obtaining it. This shows that Agrippa, rather than the writing from texts now missing or obtaining books from secret sources, instead was a mainstream scholar of his day, using texts widely available.”1

And this is where Purdue’s translation really shines, especially for any studious practitioner. The footnotes and sources provided have led me in so many new directions. Being able to look at the footnotes and see the source where Agrippa’s content is being drawn from has been immensely helpful in doing my own research. Two topics prominent in my practice, which I often write articles about, are the hierarchy of angels and numerology. It’s been tough finding primary sources on both these subjects, but suddenly, in reading this version of Three Books of Occult Philosophy, I have new leads from the detailed footnotes of books I can further explore. I am deeply appreciative of Purdue’s dedication, concentration, and effort to add these references into this translation. There is also a very interesting bibliography and comprehensive index in Book III, which again, is monumentally helpful for occult practitioners and researchers.

Another really interesting addition to this translation is quick summaries on the side of what Agrippa is talking about. For instance, in Book I’s section “Of lights and colors, lanterns, and lamps, and the colors distributed among the stars, houses, and elements.” there are side notes of what Agrippa is writing about such as, “The color of the planets.”2 and “The color of the humors.”3. These are incredibly helpful when doing a quick skim while looking for something in particular.

From a historical standpoint, Three Books of Occult Philosophy is the primary source of Western occultism, and it’s interesting to see how long some beliefs have existed, such as astrological correspondences or concepts about the elements. Even if one feels they are an expert, going back to these foundational texts really helps to see the origins of many occult beliefs embedded in our culture. It’s like a beginner’s 101 course, but one that is dated nearly 500 years and really encourages one to put themselves into the minds of magicians of the past.

However, what I’ve found most surprising is the relevance of the text centuries later. Not everything (I certainly cringed a bit reading about the bewitchment women use to lure men into love and the poisonous effects of their menstrual blood on crops), but a good majority of the text is viable for one’s modern magical practice. This is particularly true if one is drawn to arcane magical practices of times long gone, rather than the current trendy paradigms, such as chaos magic. And I think Purdue’s translation really aids in making the content of the Three Books of Occult Philosophy accessible for all.

Overall, this is by far the best translation I’ve ever seen of the Three Books of Occult Philosophy. Purdue has done such a great service in producing this new translation. From the physical heftiness of the book to the detailed footnotes, I’ve felt so connected to this set. It’s as though the arcane wisdom had just been waiting for the right translator to revive it to make it obtainable, on many levels, by a new generation, and Purdue was just the right person to do this. I highly recommend this translation above others, yes, even the free PDFs available online, because it feels alive with a potent spiritual energy. There is so much to learn from this new translation – sources to explore, wisdom to remember, and inspirations to be had.

The Path of the Warrior Mystic, by Angel Millar

The Path of the Warrior-Mystic: Being a Man in an Age of Chaos, by Angel Millar
Inner Traditions, 1644112671, 240 pages, November 2021

Right from the outset of Angel Millar’s new book, The Path of the Warrior Mystic: Being a Man in the Age of Chaos, I was struck with the impression that this was going to be a challenging book. Not challenging in a technical way – it’s actually quite an easy read, all things considered – but in that it calls the reader to action. As this is exactly one of the major themes of Millar’s book, the provocation to take more action in our spiritual lives is what the reader should expect from delving into this text.

Before getting too involved in the text here, it should be noted that this book is certainly geared towards a male/masculine audience. Although many of the ideas presented in the text could readily apply to anyone on the path of a spiritual seeker, the book is definitely geared toward the traditional spiritual practices of “men” in our world (as the subtitle suggests). As this book serves to highlight aspects of spiritual practice that have been declining in the modern world, it would be beneficial to any reader to become more familiar with what a true warrior mystic would look like. 

As the title suggests, the purpose of the book is to illuminate and merge two roles, paths, or identities that we (in this day and age) tend to think as separate: that of the warrior and that of the mystic. Until recently, Millar argues, these two paths were often – perhaps even necessarily – linked. That is, those who seek to elevate their spiritual life must also actively participate in their physical/material existence, rather than ignoring or eschewing it. This is in stark contrast to the contemporary world, with its bias toward mental activity over the physical, where our overall spiritual health seems to be slowly eroding.

The Path of the Warrior Mystic reminds us of how deep the interconnection between our physical and spiritual lives runs: drawing from many traditions, prominent figures, and ideas coming from all over the world and through different eras of our history. From Plato in Classical-age Greece to the Buddha in India, spiritual teachers have emphasized the importance of development of the physical body just as much as contemplative efforts.

This recognition of imbalance within the masculine spiritual world too often results in wishful (and perhaps wistful) attitudes toward life and one’s goals rather than prompting us toward action. And, ultimately, while contemplation and the quieting of the monkey-mind are necessary to foster growth and development, they are insufficient. Without the beneficial impact of wisdom put into practice, for the good of the larger community as well as oneself, spiritual seeking might devolve into a shallow, hollow version of what it used to be.

A return to some form of older masculine values might cause some in our modern world to balk and object to a resurgence of “the patriarchy,” an aspect of Western culture that has led to significant harm. However, Millar is striking a common vein in the movement to bring back a vital force that has been lacking in our world. Instead of encouraging a return to the traditional values of patriarchal domination, Millar draws our attention to attitudes that, if reintroduced to culture, would help address those very problems. The blending the physical, mental, and spiritual aspects of ourselves provides the sense of wholeness that is often lacking in the pursuit of purely material or social success.

“Thus, in a society that is too masculine, the creative individual brings awareness of the divine feminine. And in a society too feminine, he brings awareness of the divine masculine. In a society that is too rational, the visionary brings a return of the nonrational, and vice versa. Likewise, if it has veered too far left or right, he aims to bring it back to the straight course–the “middle path,” to borrow a phrase from Buddhism–and not have it veer to the other extreme.”4

I have both seen and felt the movements in our culture over the last few years towards the rediscovery of wisdom and different ways of knowing, such as the knowledge of our bodies through intense physical training. Millar does great work in bringing together examples and principles from spiritual traditions, artists, and philosophers from across many different cultures and time periods. He argues that the warrior-mystic is encapsulated by the creative individual, a force which can revivify the world, starting with themselves and expanding outward.

Millar is good at bringing the more abstract spiritual matters down to the level of the every-day. His writing is straight-forward and direct, not indulging in drawn-out esoteric discussions. The chapters easily indicate their topic so that it’s a simple matter of going back to a section that you want to reread (the Index in the back is also a great help!). Millar doesn’t shy away from touchy topics, such as sex and the idea that sometimes you need to end personal relationships if they are not serving the needs of your higher self.

One of my favorite sections was Millar’s discussion about man’s romantic nature being bound up with the “death drive” as a response to a significant question. To/for what should I sacrifice my life (in both senses: one’s life’s work and one’s mortal existence)? I very much resonated with this question, as it is one I have grappled with at many points in my own experience, and will definitely continue to explore the ideas prompted by this book.

The one itch that The Path of the Warrior Mystic doesn’t quite scratch is the wish to delve deeper into the topics Millar explores. This is a fantastic way to introduce the many connections arising around the pursuit of the creative spirit characterized by the warrior-mystic. But Millar’s to-the-point style and the breadth of ground that he covers leaves one wanting to go a little deeper at times. Yet, this may be what the author intends, as it is a spur to action – to take up the quest for oneself and explore the world, rather than just consuming content with the mind.

Our African Unconscious, by Edward Bruce Bynum, Ph.D.

Our African Unconscious: The Black Origins of Mysticism and Psychology, by Edward Bruce Bynum Ph.D. ABPP 
Inner Traditions, 1644113961, 408 pages, September 2021

“We are all connected intimately- neurologically, embryologically, historically, and by way of the collective unconscious – to the same shared human family.”5

Have you ever thought about the historical origins of humanity and how inexplicitly rooted they are in our psyche? In Our African Unconscious: The Black Origins of Mysticism and Psychology, Edward Bruce Bynum draws upon a myriad of research to shine a light on this repressed African consciousness within us all. Reading this book ignites an awakening process, though not in an abstract, “higher” consciousness sense. Rather, the information presented by Bynum creates a bridge to the deepest parts of our human origin, filling a gaping hole within our consciousness with the history, spirituality, and philosophy of Africa, the homeland of humanity.

I was interested in reading this book for several reasons. First, Bynum’s The Dreamlife of Families: The Psychospiritual Connection is hands-down the best book I’ve ever read about dreams. This work was immensely illuminating in regard to the connected power of dreams within a family and community, something very few dream authors tend to highlight. A bit of the content is covered in Our African Unconscious, but I still highly recommend reading The Dreamlife of Families to get the full-scope of Bynum’s wisdom.

The other reasons for reading Our African Unconscious had to do with my intuition that mysticism, religion, and depth psychology are overlooking ancient influences. From a historical point of view, a simple study of world history reveals what a dominant power Africa was shaping the ancient world. From a religious and spiritual point of view, I can hardly fathom how the general population still doesn’t see the archetypal resonance of Osiris in the story of Jesus Christ and how many branches of occultism (Kabbalah, Hermetic Philosophy, Theosophy, Rosicrucianism) stems from Egypt. Plus, I’ve always had a strong interest in the Black Madonna (good read: Longing for Darkness: Tara and the Black Madonna by China Galland) and the origins of the Mother Goddess in Africa. Thankfully, all of this is covered by Bynum in the book.

Finally, although my master’s degree program was centered within depth psychology, it was exhaustingly focused upon the dominant, white, Western psyche. Sure, we read Jung in Africa, which focuses on the lasting impression Africa had on Jung, inspiring many of his theories. But the programs and lectures I have attended never made the leap to acknowledge the African psyche, nor the influence on the collective. There’s plenty of archeological data to support the origin of life in Africa, and Bynum has finally restored this missing link by these origins to realm of psychology and religion.

It has taken me about six weeks to make my way through this knowledge-filled book. Bynum doesn’t cut corners and takes the time to fully elaborate on every aspect of his study of this topic, which requires concentration and focus on behalf of the reader. Plus, there are ample citations and a bibliography for each chapter, making it easy to see where Bynum is sourcing information from.

“Only in Africa can we find the complete record and genetic blueprints of our species. This template, this basic genetic stock of humanity, is the source stock of all other unfolding branches of the human family. From this last family of travelers civilization was born. This story of stories is the archetype of all human stories.”6

Our African Unconscious begins with a deep-dive into the earliest records of humans on Earth, describing the different species of these primordial ancestors and how they evolved and dispersed through time. And from here, Bynum has traced and explained the African influence of nearly all major civilizations in history. He explains how African thought spread throughout Europe and into Asia, especially from Kemetic Egypt, to influence science, consciousness, medicine, and history itself.

A great deal of time is spent on the influence of serpent energy, or Kundalini, and how it has “profoundly affected almost every psychospiritual tradition from Asia to Mesoamerica, the Christian revelations, and throughout the sacred mystical Kabbalism of the Jews.”7

“The same genetic root and collective unconscious gave rise to civilization in Africa and spread throughout Europe and also over through Asia. Like the human embryo itself, unfolding from the neural crest, civilization in its earliest hours unfolded from a dark and creative synthesis of life forces along the umbilical Nile River, then moved along a dark line that, over time, evolved into discrete organs, trading centers, and functional cities, and eventually became interconnected over great distances. This early civilization is the origin of our first sciences of consciousness and also of a material technology.”8

Another really interesting topic that Bynum writes about is the influence of Africa on psychology, and how it was lost in Greece, who didn’t seem to understand the transcendent aspects of the mysteries. For instance, Bynum writes ecstatic Orisha worship that involves the engagement of the central nervous system, releasing a rush of bioenergy from the body to the brain, where a “kind of top-down cognitive psychology”9 emerges. This greatly contrasts with Greece, where exploring the mysteries for the sake of transcendence was lost and materiality reigned supreme. Later in the book Byum writes about the African origins of psychoanalysis with interesting ideas about how Freud’s Jewish background contributed to his practice.

I wish I could talk about all the fascinating aspects of Bynum’s theory in this review, but rather than give a water-downed explanation, I feel it’s more important to highlight the experience of absorbing the information. Moving through the book calls for a questioning of many assumptions, as well as a new perspective on history. When reading I also experienced a shift in myself, where I suddenly gained awareness of my original ancestors, who at some point in time must have come from Africa. I actually got so into this concept, that I signed up for a physical anthropology class starting in January!

The only thing I wish there was a bit more of in Our African Unconscious is a focus on the feminine. Bynum goes into great detail describing the African connection to the monotheistic religions of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, but these religions are all patriarchal with little to no spiritual authority given to women. One of the only times spiritual women were discussed was as witches, who suck the energy from others and the community with their dark arts, in some indigenous African traditions, such as the Ibo and Kassena. More discussion about the Black Madonna, Isis, or roles of women in Africa would have been appreciated.

Towards the end of the book, in a section titled “Our African Unconscious as Expressed In the Work of the American Founding Fathers,” Bynum describes the Rosicrucian and Freemason influences in the formation of the American government. Both of these secret societies draw heavily upon African wisdom, primarily Egyptian, and the influence of their belief systems is easily noticed in places such as the nation’s capitol building, design of the dollar bill, and even the the Great Seal of America. I found this section extremely relevant to the upcoming Pluto return that will be a dominant theme in next year’s astrology.

A Pluto return, when the planet Pluto returns to the exact same astrological degree in a natal chart, happens approximately every 248 years. While civilizations such as Egypt, Greece, and Rome have had many, this is America’s first, since the nation was only founded in 1776. By looking at the events that occurred during other countries’ Pluto return in the past, astrologers know there is often a great shift that changes the identity of the nation. Pluto is known as the planet of death and rebirth or destruction and transformation, probing into the most intimate layers of psyche to point out weaknesses and foster strength.

“But this fascination with mere skin color is a surface structure obsession. In deep structure we are all the same species. Yet we cannot seem to let it go. This obsession reflects a deep and simplistic ambivalence about our origins and reveals our fear of ethnic dissolution. It has also been the source of untold sufferings on the part of not only dark-skinned peoples but also light-skinned peoples. Whenever we find disassociation from the life current it is associated with darkness and the coming out of the “unconscious.” In the unconscious we will find a fear of darkness, dark skin, and all things associated with the dark. Darkness, however, is not Blackness. For the ancient Kemetic Egyptians, darkness was ignorance, but Blackness was wisdom.”10

Given the history of Black people in America, including institutionalized racism and slavery, there’s a lot to be said about race relationships, which Bynum thoroughly covers in the chapter “The Present Confrontation in the Americas.” He describes how the use of imagery perpetuates motifs, racism, and misinformation. This section is an eye-opening description of how Blackness has been treated in America, and I think it’s important that more people take the time to integrate, process, and accept this history, rather than shying away from it and further repressing it. Despite the hostility shown towards Black people, Bynum shows how unconsciously the influence of Africa continued to spread in the Americas. 

My hope is that Pluto’s return will shine a light on race relationships and also bring to light in America our common African origins. It is only through this reckoning of commonality that tensions, mistreatment, and disrespect among humans will come to an end. Our African Unconscious is a step in this direction, which is why I have been recommending it to nearly everyone recently, from astrological colleagues to friends with an interest in social justice. I honestly think every religious, spiritual, or magical practitioner should read this book. There is just so much packed within these pages that has the potency to usher in a new narrative, thus shifting culture towards a more relational, understanding, and wise society.

All in all, Bynum has made a comprehensive case for the need to rekindle the connection to our African unconscious, which has not just been lost, but actively repressed. I’m deeply impressed with the objectivity Bynum maintained while writing so passionately about this subject. With a topic that could run high with tension and volatility, Bynum has taken a measured, level approach to present this information, and I admire how he calls for honoring and celebrating common roots, rather than further separation among humankind. I will absolutely be integrating Bynum’s wisdom for a while and I know I will be returning to Our African Unconscious time and again, as I’m sure there’s more to absorb with each and every read.

The Divine Feminine Tao Te Ching, by Rosemarie Anderson

The Divine Feminine Tao Te Ching: A New Translation and Commentary, by Rosemarie Anderson, Ph.D.
Inner Traditions, 1644112469, 160 pages, April 2021

Rosemarie Anderson, Ph.D., has many accomplishments – she is professor emerita of psychology at Sofia University, an Episcopal priest, an author of several books, and the recipient of the Abraham Maslow Heritage Award. She has traveled widely through Asia, and she has decades of experience with the Chinese language and the Tao Te Ching – all of which more than qualify her to author The Divine Feminine Tao Te Ching.

However, the qualification that touched me the most was declared in the very first sentence written in the book, in the acknowledgments section: “Translating the Tao Te Ching has been a work of love.”11 The love that this author has for the Tao Te Ching, and for the language in which it was written, informs her entire translation.

Anderson begins with a few short pages explaining her personal story of moving to Asia as a young woman and how she very quickly learned, and fell in love with, the Chinese language. She explains her love for the elegance of the calligraphic form and the etymology of the characters, along with the reverence the Chinese people seemed to have for them. 

In exploring and observing the Chinese way of life during her time in Asia she recognized that she was beginning to learn a concept the Chinese call “wei wu wei, which means to ‘act without acting’ or ‘know without knowing’.”12

This concept of wei wu wei, she explains, is essential to understanding the Tao Te Ching, requiring one to slow down, to read with patience, to allow the poems to enter one’s knowing almost of their own accord.

Anderson originally decided to translate the Tao for her own benefit and delight, using her basic knowledge of Chinese supplemented by scholarly books that would teach her any characters she did not recognize. She began this process expecting that she might discover something new in the Tao Te Ching along with some new discoveries about herself. The thing she did not expect was to discover that the Tao was profoundly feminine – full of self-descriptive words such as “mother”, “virgin”, and “womb of creation” – all intrinsically feminine ideas! 

In fact, the descriptor of Anderson’s translation in the title as “divine feminine” is what drew me as a reader to this version. And it seems so obvious upon reading these ideas that the Tao would be referred to as “She” in most if not all places where pronouns are used, but historically that has not been the case. “Only in a rare poem do a few translators refer to the Tao as “She” when the reference to “mother” or “womb” is blatant.”13

Something I found profoundly interesting was that the author’s experience of the wei wu wei method of translation is that it was “rarely mental but typically took the form of bodily impressions.”14

This idea of allowing input (in this case the poems of the Tao Te Ching) to reverberate in the body instead of automatically depending on the mind to figure everything out seems to be something worth exploring in earnest. 

The next idea to help us ingest the poems (and to enter into wei wu wei) is to read the poems aloud, or to sing them – even perhaps to a favorite tune, along with a suggestion to read one poem per day and to truly commit to listening and hearing what the Tao has to offer. 

I particularly liked this specific instruction:

“Sing out loud and sing long. This is hermeneutics in action. The term hermeneutics comes from the Greek god Hermes, the great communicator who brought the gods’ messages down to humans. In singing the Tao Te Ching, communicating with the Heavens and back to planet Earth is precisely what you are doing. Do it. Improvise on the text as an ancient storyteller might. Begin your own legend – your own pathway to the Heavens and back again.”15

This instruction seems like the perfect way to begin or expand one’s exploration of the Tao Te Ching, especially The Divine Feminine Tao Te Ching – unhurried, embodied, and without any specific expectation other than “communicating with the Heavens and back to planet Earth.” For me, as a beginner, this encouraged me to not overthink or overdo, but to just sing.

So far, one of my favorite poems in Anderson’s translation is poem 34, which I place here for your enjoyment:

-34-
The Tao flows everywhere!
She stretches to the left and to the right
All things rely on Her for life
She never turns away
She accomplishes Her work
And makes no claims
She is free of desires
We call Her small
All things return to Her
Yet she never controls
We call Her great
In not striving to be great
The wise accomplish great things

This selection seems to align well with the author’s instructions and contemplations of wei wu wei, and this particular passages encourage me in the idea of “accomplishing great things by not striving to be great”16 and to “grasp the Great Mirror”17 of the Divine Feminine Tao Te Ching.

The poems are presented in a beautiful, flowing form, the typography spacious. And the book wraps up nicely with Notes on the translation and calligraphy, as well as an annotated bibliography. 

I recommend this little gem of a book to anyone wanting to study the Tao Te Ching – especially to consider it in the context of a gentle, non-striving practice.

The Ancient Language of Sacred Sound, by David Elkington

The Ancient Language of Sacred Sound: The Acoustic Science of the Divine, David Elkington
Inner Traditions, 432 pages, 1644111659, April 2021

In The Ancient Language of Sacred Sound: The Acoustic Science of the Divine, David Elkington has put forward a truly fascinating work about the role that sound plays in our spiritual experiences. This is a work of deep scholarship and intense study of locations around the world which are considered sacred sites to those who built them. Far from considering humanity’s ancient ancestors as primitive, this book highlights the absolutely breathtaking precision and purpose in the design of ancient monuments such as the pyramids at Giza, gothic cathedrals in Europe, and Newgrange in Ireland.

Elkington’s general thesis is that the hero — an exemplar of the capacity to grow, gain wisdom, and come to self-awareness — is a state of mind, and the development of this mental state can be aided by sacred sites. His theory has its foundation in the fairly recent discoveries about the resonant frequencies of Earth and its atmosphere. I was amazed to learn that regions below and above the ground each tend to resonate at different extremely low frequencies, and that these frequencies can also correspond to the frequencies generated by the brain: alpha, theta, and delta waves.

The idea that Elkington proceeds to develop is that many sacred sites were meticulously constructed to, under the right conditions, amplify the natural frequencies of the Earth so as to alter the brain wave patterns of anyone at that location. Through the structure’s architectural design, building materials, and geographic location, these sacred sites were built to tune in,  literally, to the energy of the world around us.

This very scientific approach to describing how we and our ancestors could come into harmony with what is greater than ourselves helps this book to feel extremely grounded compared to some other texts that discuss the experience of divine oneness. To me, the book is a fantastic bridge between scientific and spiritual approaches to how we can understand what “the hero” represents, both for our ancestors and for us today.

One of the revelatory ideas Elkington discusses which really struck me was that sacred sites are not merely historical monuments. When much of the western world has become removed from connection with the Earth and the older cultures who were so connected to the energy of the planet, we are likely to view structures like the Egyptian pyramids as symbols of some important person, group, event, etc. That is, someone or some group really wanted to leave a lasting legacy. This latter idea is much closer to our own, modern way of viewing the world. But one of the crucial ideas in this book is that these sacred sites did – and still do! – function to leave an impression upon the people visiting them: a much more potent impression than a mere symbol.

What amazed me still further about Elkington’s theory is that the spiritual impact of these sites is not made solely by visiting the structure, but through participation with it. By speaking, singing, or chanting words or phrases of power from the culture which constructed the site – the name of a god or hero, for example – the acoustic properties of the structure would amplify and enhance the sounds, building up to the mind-altering resonant frequencies. The overall idea that active participation is necessary for spiritual growth is exactly right, and is exemplified by these sacred sites.

Moving into the middle of the book, Elkington seems to take a long detour, delving into the meaning and significance of “the hero” in mythology. Interestingly, he focuses quite a bit on Jesus Christ as a hero figure rather than a historical/religious persona. Why, you might ask? Well, Elkington sets up Jesus as a heroic figure because he proposes that the Jesus we know from Christianity is just one example of someone who embodied the kind of heroic consciousness that is promoted by the sacred sites. Although I was aware that the story of Jesus shares a lot of commonalities with figures from other mythological traditions, this was my first time encountering the notion that ‘Jesus of Nazareth’ is more akin to a title (similar to how ‘Buddha’ is a title) rather than an individual name.

Elkington delves heavily into the history and relationships of various ancient languages that have helped shape this title. Admittedly, this section of the book came off as a little tedious and matter-of-fact at times. The author makes all of these linguistic connections and cross-references between ancient Greek, Hebrew, Egyptian, and more – often leaving me to wonder whether these developments of language actually occurred. Elkington does provide many sources and citations throughout the book, especially in this chapter, but without reading the source material or possessing deep knowledge of these ancient languages, I was somewhat skeptical of the plenitude of linguistic transformations being presented. Do these connections actually exist, or are they being presented to fit the theory?

However, I was reassured when, at the end of his linguistic explorations, Elkington himself admits to casting a skeptical eye at the mountain of linguistic data he’d uncovered. Although it would still take a great deal of research to substantiate all the bits and pieces of his work, I felt better knowing the author expressed his own doubts about his findings. Ultimately, however, the trail of linguistic breadcrumbs reaches the conclusion that Jesus (again, not the historical-religious figure) and Christianity itself dates back to the Egyptian Old Kingdom! Linking this to what Elkington discusses about sacred sites, he says “We have forgotten the power of that name, only limiting it to a kind of modified superstition, but now we can show, we can demonstrate beyond doubt that the name actually does work as a name of power, this is the name of God.”14

Elkington continues developing this startling discovery throughout the book, tying together the importance of the sacred sites, words of power, and the shifts in consciousness that may result from their combination. The Ancient Language of Sacred Sound is quite dense, and I wish I could expound more upon all the intriguing inquiries and discoveries it contains. As a fair warning, some of this book may be a little difficult to get through, depending upon the reader’s interests and attention span. But in my estimation, it is a truly unique and eye-opening book – a journey well worth the time and dedication.

The King in Orange, by John Michael Greer

The King in Orange: The Magical and Occult Roots of Political Power, by John Michael Greer
Inner Traditions, 1644112582, 208 Pages, May 2021

With the many controversies happening within our country right now, from vaccination mandates to military withdrawal, it feels an opportune moment to reflect on the state of American politics and the forces that are shaping our current government system. Cue The King in Orange: The Magical and Occult Roots of Political Power by John Michael Greer, here to help magically-minded folks make sense of the political mess in terms they understand.

Drawing upon The King in Yellow, a book of short stories by Robert W. Chambers, Greer helps to discern the energetic forces behind collective political movements that have been taking shape the past decade through the lens of occult forces (both conscious and unconscious) guiding the path forward.

In particular, he highlights the competition between two competing schools of magic that ultimately lead to the presidency of Donald Trump. By examining what led to this Populist rise, an occurrence happening elsewhere too, such as Britain, Greer leads the reader through a journey in the masked magical forces impacting public discourse.

And I’m going to be honest, Greer gives a very fair treatment of the subject without ever outwardly picking a side. So, this book may be potentially troublesome for anyone very rooted in their own personal beliefs and isn’t willing to see things differently.

For the most part, there is no sway towards either political party. I will say the exception to this seems to be in regard to Greer’s writing on Hilary Clinton, which I did find to be rather pejoratively biased. Overall though, Greer presents the material very objectively, offering perspective to guide readers in making their own conclusions.

Greer really delves into the concepts such as virtue signaling, privilege in America, and the class divide rift between salary workers and wage workers. He especially packs a punch by highlighting the magic of the liberal, privileged salary class that directly contributed to the populist rise of Trump: mainstream culture and the mass media that perpetuates it.

“This is one of the crucial points about privilege in today’s America: to the privileged, privilege is invisible. That’s not just a matter of personal cluelessness or of personal isolation from the less privileged, though these can of course be involved. It’s one of the most significant magical spells we’re under. The mass media and every other aspect of mainstream American culture constantly present the experience of privileged people as normal, and just as constantly feed any departure from that experience through an utterly predictable set of filters.”18

The filters used by the media, as well as the new American Left, according to Greer, inaccurately portray Trump supporters using distorted narratives, such as homophobic, racist, misogynist, when in factor many votes for Trump were for populist reasons of job loss, wage cuts, unaffordable health coverage, and a general lose of faith in system that is willingness neglecting their interests. Though identity politics currently take precedent above other cultural divisors, the overlooked factor is social class.

Greer draws on the scholarly work of Ioan Couliano to illuminate age-old forms of manipulation dating back to the Renaissance now channeled into modern advertising and mass media. This one-sided perspective led to a nation-wide upset as millions of voters were blind sided by Trump’s victory, which was dismissed as impossible by the media narrative.

Simultaneously, chaos magicians are also waging their own in the form of Pepe the frog memes, truly believing their symbolism was having an effect on the election, and thus constellating a change in consciousness among a group of “internet wizards.” Delving into the story of how this magic was used via Reddit was a really interesting topic, particularly after having encountered it directly in my mid-20s as quite a few acquaintances began to post about it.

To be honest, I’m still integrating the way he’s woven together the underpinning occult energies in play in American politics with the recent history of the 2016 election to present a viewpoint that is entirely original and most relatable as a magical practitioner. As an avid seeker, I enjoy how Greer’s insight work blends discourse from political, social, and magical movements.

While the future is not set in stone, the deeds of the past are catching up and contributing to where we are now as a nation. With ample reference to material such as Oswald Spengler’s Decline of the West and Dion Fortune’s war letters, Greer provides multiple avenues for readers to further study.

Reading The King in Orange had me reminiscing about when I was a recent college graduate, filled with liberal ideals, dating a boisterous, in your face Trump supporter. Needless to say, the relationship didn’t even survive the political campaigning. As tension in the country has become more polarized, I’ve literally seen more and more long-term relationships ending over deep-set political stances.

I really feel like reading Greer’s ideas in this book helped me to reconcile my differences and find a more balanced perspective. When my Trump supporting friend asserted the other day that America needs to “Blame the suits, not the boots”, I had much more insight into her perspective.

The King in Orange is not an easy read, as there are some hard truths to swallow regardless of where your political beliefs lay. But this book opened my eyes to the roots of the current political climate that go deeper than just standard party issues. There are fundamental shifts to the American way of life that are leading to uncertainty about the future. Being more aware of the occult forces in play on both sides helps to be discerning in shaping our beliefs. I have been recommending this book to quite a few people recently who are wondering what’s going on in the politics right now because it’s a really thought-provoking read that delves into the psychological factors effecting the collective consciousness.

Without Reservation, by Randy Kritkausky

Without Reservation: Awakening to Native American Spirituality and the Ways of Our Ancestors, by Randy Kritkausky
Bear & Company, 978-1591433842, 288 pages, September 2020

“While most of our journeys take us away from our immediate daily setting, the journey described in this book has not been a journey away from home. It is a journey, yet incomplete, homeward…”1

Without Reservation: Awakening to Native American Spirituality and the Ways of Our Ancestors by Randy Kritkausky is a powerful book, relating the author’s journey of self-identification and awakening the connections to what his ancestry holds as wisdom and an authentic sense of personal and collective spirituality. The overarching message of the book is one of a gentle encouragement by the author to explore your own uniqueness, your own histories, your own lineage and by so doing becoming more wholly who you are.

I will share a quote from “Chapter 17: Microbes and Black Swans,” which speaks eloquently to Kritkausky’s intent for himself and the world at large. This chapter relates the author’s continued experiences as COVID-19 spread throughout the world and the arising of his wish for society’s healing anchored from a Native American perspective:

Native Americans know how to cope with a more powerful adversary while maintaining our dignity. We make necessary accommodations as best we can. . . Crisis can be a time to dig into our historical narratives and to gather their wisdom. The isolation and time-outs imposed on us in the form of quarantines may be a hidden gift, a pause button encouraging reflection. Imagine our families and communities gathered in small groups around a fire, exchanging stories of ancestral wisdom and reimagining our future. Imagine the cultural enrichment that might come if this became routine…19

Without Reservation is separated into seventeen chapters and ends with a powerful writing of the “Conclusion: Untangling Threads of Historical Narrative”, which speaks to what the author’s journey has truly revealed for him…

What I did not anticipate is that in, around, and through my personal reflections, another more complex image would emerge and come into focus-that of “Indianness” writ large. I now see unfolding before me something like a five-dimensional hologram of my collective tribal history through time, and even beyond that, an emerging image of our continent’s human history…20

This historical narrative is not one that is found in academic teachings, but rather one that can only be derived by the understanding and wisdom gained in making the time and taking the effort to step fully into the wisdom of the ancestors and nature and seeing through their eyes the true story.  

I appreciated that the author included a Glossary of Indian Words, chapter Notes and a robust and very thorough Bibliography. These were excellent tools that serve to deepen the reader’s understanding of the importance and profound impact this journey “homeward” had for Kritkausky, while giving insight into the wealth of wisdom held by the Native peoples.

One of the things that sets this book apart from many other books about Native American Spirituality or Native biographies is that Kritkausky is one of Native American descent who did not grow up on a Native American reservation, and so he did not have the first hand cultural and ancestral experiences that arise from those daily interactions within community and family. Additionally, he describes himself as frequently standing…

“… before a mirror. . . The face that stares back at me always has hazel eyes, light brown hair, light skin and northern European bone structure. I am continually reminded that I look more like my adopted family’s Lithuanian ancestors than my biological family’s Potawatomi ancestors.”21

And it was this self-reflection that ignited the flame within him to seek “home”.  He goes on to remind the reader that…

“Who we are and who we think we are is not merely a social construct rooted in the fleeting here and now. Who we are and who we think we are is rooted in historical connections with those who have walked on but continue to be with us. Our identity is rooted in our relationships with the land and with a sentient natural world that shares an active understanding with us. When we wander too far from our roots, our ancestors and kin in the natural world call us home, sometimes with gentle whispers and sometimes with loud voices sounding alarms…22

Each chapter gives a thoughtful amount of Kritkausky’s personal background and how he was raised apart from the Native traditions of the Potawatomi tribe, despite the Native heritage on his mother’s side. The reader is privy to the spiritual uncertainty that arose when his mother remarried a man of Lithuanian descent, who became his adopted father, and life in a geographical location lacking in ethnic diversity or non-traditional options to pursue spirituality. 

“Chapter 2: The Awakening” and “Chapter 3: Before the Awakening” recount the synchronistic events and imminent death of his mother, that brought Kritkausky into the wisdom of his Native extended family and their spiritual practices through a tradition of understanding of and collaboration with the natural world. It is often said of important matters that when the student is ready, the teacher will come. For Kritkausky, the teachers took on the forms of ancestral spirits, animal spirits, aunts, uncles, and kin.

“Chapter 4: Pathways to Knowing” is my favorite chapter of Without Reservation. This chapter provides the reader with tools for consideration as the process of awakening to the Native ways of spirituality begins. Kritkausky outlines them in this way:

• Visitations and Connections: “The most astounding and sometimes the most perplexing encounters involve wonderful, unintended and typically unexpected visitations from ancestral spirits…. direct connections with the natural world, (are) moments when the consciousness of other living beings, flora and fauna, becomes accessible…”23

• Observation: “… comes through intended highly conscious, close observation of the world of nature and the lessons that flora and fauna bring, if we take the time to see and listen…”24   

• Reflection: “This mode of coming to know and understanding requires time and critical self-examination, even an element of skepticism. It often requires asking ourselves hard questions…”25

The questions that are posited are found in many other spiritual journeys, all with the intention of verifying what has been intuited, maintaining a level of integrity around the intention and deepening the resonance of integration of what information is received. 

The last pathway, for me, was the most profound and is that of storytelling, described as…

“… profoundly social rather than introspective and private. By sharing or publishing knowledge and wisdom we have been given, we become teachers and conduits of culture…Our friends, families and communities challenge and confirm us, For Native Americans with millennia-old oral traditions, storytelling comes naturally. For others, this is nearly a lost art form…”26

I love this particular intention and pathway. You can feel the power and deep connectedness arising just in reading the author’s words of description. The reader is reminded that these paths intersect, informing one another and creating the point of resonance that will call to the wisdom of the ancestors, the support of the natural world, and the strength of heritage to find a place of cultural home. 

Without Reservation is a moving and intimate recounting of the author’s desire to know more about who he is in his “Indianness.” This book is dynamic with emotion, historical truths, technique, and masterful weaving of a personal account of seeking family. At the level of nuance, this title evokes in the reader a yearning for a simpler, yet deeply connected relationship with the knowingness of who you are in heritage, in spirit and in the network of ancestry.

For me, personally, it struck an emotional chord.  As Kritkausky relates in the beginning of the book, many Americans know of their Native American lineage, but lack the proof required for recognition by the US government and/or the various Tribal Nations themselves. They remain disenfranchised from their roots and find it easier to remain entrenched in the expectations of the society and cultural experiences they were raised in; taking on an identity that is incomplete and unfulfilling. What knowledge they may have of this other heritage is often fleeting or merely a glimpse of some memento or artifact at best, or a random comment made in passing that may indicate that they are something more.

In my case, it was a picture of my great-great grandmother and the telling of a story by my grandmother about her grandmother. The picture portrayed a beautiful Native woman with braids and clothing, presumably Cherokee. My grandmother did not know much other than what she was briefly told by her mother and when my grandmother died, the picture disappeared.

Without Reservation awakened within me the desire to know more about that neglected aspect of myself. And, I would broadly say that the approach and fervent desire that Kritkausky shared could be applied to anyone’s lineage-European, Asian, African, etc. All have historical narratives and ancestral stories to tell. And, as was true for Kritkausky, in connecting with the wisdom of your history, we can better be suited towards living in harmony and respect for one another and ultimately deepen the connections to nature that all indigenous peoples revere.

Sacred Geometry, by Richard Heath

Sacred Geometry: Language of the Angels, by Richard Heath
Inner Traditions, 1644111187, 288 pages, January 2021

There are countless stories of aliens gifting humans with higher intelligence, changing the course of human history (we’ve’ all seen an episode or two of Ancient Aliens), but angels? In his book Sacred Geometry: Language of the Angels, Richard Heath puts forth the idea that perfect radios numerical relations are what lead to megalith buildings that encapsulate the divine wisdom of a harmonic creator.

“Angels have the role of bringing about the manifest universe through their direct imagination of ratios and geometries. Once the megalith builders, in their astronomical journey, started using (a) alignments to the Sun and Moon, (b) the counting of days in longer cycles, and (c) the comparison of results within geometrical forms, humans developed minds similar to but different from those of angels.”22

Richard Heath is a well-established author on this topic, and some of his previous books include Sacred Number and the Origin of Civilization (2006) and The Harmonic Origins of the World (2018), which I also reviewed here. He writes about and believes that numbers are the origin of human’s religious cosmologies and that these sacred proportions were shared with humans by a higher intelligence, in this case what he describes as angels.

The heart of Heath’s theories in Part One: The Universal Will is that geometry draws on rational measures of the world externally, but there are also ratios that bring order to life, not simply the numbers themselves. Within these divine proportions, the great connection to the sphere of planets occurs. By drawing on the ancient systems of measurement, along with reconstructing their musical tuning theories, larger patterns reveal themselves.

Heath delves into sacred sites to show these proportions, as well as demonstrate the connection between geometry and planetary movements. He begins by explaining different triangles and their symbolism, and then he explains the squaring of circles in monuments such as The Great Pyramid of Giza and Stonehenge. Also explored in this section are Sanchi Great Stupa and the Hagia Sophia.

Part Two: The Cosmic Individuality explores made me recall a lot of information from his previous book The Harmonic Origins of the World, but added lots of new information still. I really found it fascinating to reflect on Pythagoras’s development of a cosmological theory based on numerical tuning, which included Tetractys, or pyramidal arrays of numbers  which create octaves.

I do hope I am explaining this correctly, as even writing the review is a process of synthesizing the material for me! To be honest, I am not going to pretend like I fully understand the concept, as there’s a lot packed in here, but it got my mind thinking about the relationship between ratios in sound and the physical world.

“The inner story of the power of the octave to provide a unified God and creation provided the outer story of the Bible. And its inner numerical metaphor of numbers preserved an inner doctrine of astronomical harmony surrounding the Earth.”25

Pondering a relationship between musical cosmology, the movement of the moon and outer planets, and sacred geometry is truly mind-blowing to me as an astrologer. As Heath explains, megalithic astronomers used measurements based on horizon events, such as sunrise, sunset, and eclipses.27 Using this method to establish what he named a Lunation Triangle, the synod of Jupiter can be measured.

The cycles of Jupiter allowed for a ratio to develop, which revealed a harmonic ratio between the Jupiter synod and lunar year. There is also a ratio of the Saturn synod, which when looked at in conjunction with the synod of Jupiter, plays a role in the story of Jesus and how his symbolism happened through the “planetary world of time and its harmony.”28

As the book progresses, Heath spends immense time on elucidating the sacred geometry of Glastonbury, along with Islam. It was fascinating to read about the harmonic codes of the Kaaba. He even delves into the development of egoism, and how this too is a part of planetary harmony.

I realize by now your head may be spinning, as not only is the math complex (I doubt I will ever understand Heath’s calculations), but there’s also an assertion of higher intelligence in the world which links religious symbolism, great buildings, and music all through the sacred power of geometry. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s truly a fascinating topic that I am happy to have explored in this book.

I like how the manifestation of religion and other facets of society can be explained through the underlying principles of planetary harmonic resonance, numbers, and geometry. It brings a whole new dimension to our existence. And while it may not seem like a spiritual view point, I have truly found embracing this information to be paradigm shifting for my own journey.

Reading this book has made me grapple with concepts such as the influence of planets on human events, the true nature of the universe, and the magnificent, though forgotten, geometry behind sacred sites. I will admit it took me well over a month to make my way through this book, and oftentimes I had to reread a section multiple times, wondering if I was truly comprehending it. However, it has been a worthwhile pursuit that I’m happy to have made my way through.

My only complaint is that at times, it feels like the numbers are supposed to speak for the information in the book, and I think a little bit more discussion would have helped me to understand the context of the calculations a bit better. Like I see the math, but I don’t know how to translate it or jump to the conclusion that Heath has reached. If there was a bit more detail about how the information was extrapolated from the math, I might have had an easier time following along.

I can also say I am grateful to have read Heath’s prior books as well before diving into this one. I had a greater understanding of the general concepts he was presenting, and I am not sure it would be so easy to dive into this book first. For this reason, I recommend it to people who have prior exposure to Heath’s work or are very comfortable with detailed mathematical calculations.

All in all, Sacred Geometry frames the foundation of the universe, physical building, and human life in an entirely new way. By focusing on the mathematics of that time, rather than the abstracted forms used now, a new perspective emerges. I am open to the possibility of a higher intelligence imparting the template for humanity to grow, and I enjoyed how this book pushed the boundaries of what’s commonly accepted in many fields, from religion to science to math.

Hermetic Herbalism, by Jean Maveric

Hermetic Herbalism: The Art of Extracting Spagyric Essences, by Jean Mavéric, edited and translated by R. Bailey
Inner Traditions, 1620559857, 234 pages, May 2020

I was first drawn to Hermetic Herbalism: The Art of Extracting Spagyric Essences by Jean Mavéric (in a new translation by R. Bailey) because of my fascination with the very subject described by the title: the influence of hermetic thought on the history of the use of plants for maintaining health. I thought it would be a practical guide to a little-known form of herbalism that has recently gained in popularity, and that I would learn how to make spagyric essences. I had no idea that, in addition to a hermetic guide to plant preparations, I would be getting a fascinating compendium of herbal lore, with lists of properties, correspondences, and suggested remedies, from the theory of the humors to the plants and the planets.

Clearly a product of the 19th century’s renewed interest in all things magical, and the desire of scholars of that time to be as complete and scientific as possible, the book, originally published in French in 1911, feels at first like an arcane encyclopedia. A concise foreword by the translator paves the way for understanding just where the author, in all his own mystery, was coming from. As we start to read, we can picture the mysterious Jean Mavéric in his garret, surrounded by old books. Yet the author explains that the book is not a “mere compilation,” but there for the reader to extract its “quintessence.”1

Reading it is its own alchemical process, and the author guides the reader well from the beginning of this voyage. Hermetic Herbalism thus does more than supply a summary of its subject matter; it offers a glimpse of the magical revival of the 19th century and how writers of the time sought to preserve and share esoteric knowledge, transmitted in premodern times by Paracelsus and his followers.

A basic knowledge of hermeticism and astrology comes in handy for a reader starting to travel with Mavéric, yet like any good French scholar, he begins with a discussion of the terms he will be using, so newer scholars of the hermetic arts are not left too far behind. As he separates the subject matter into short, digestible chapters, the reader can also perceive how the elements, the planets, the humors and the plants interconnect, leading up to an understanding of astrological herbalism and how to read a natal chart.

Mavéric details how to map the planets onto the body according to hermetic correspondences, offering some questions for the student of astrology to ponder. I really appreciated the detail to be found here, including the relationships between the planets, the elements, the humors and the body’s functions. I better understand, for example, why my capacity to act can sometimes feel blocked since Mars lives in the sixth house in my natal chart, one of the houses that Mavéric says most influences our vitality. I feel that I know the planets better and can thus better assess how I am feeling their influence at any given time.

 His discussion of the houses also clarified the relationships of each one to the others and also the whole. Not all of his explanations on how to analyze a natal chart were clear to me, and I found myself thinking that I would want to follow up with a teacher on how, for example, to locate the astrological sign that represents the head in someone’s natal chart. Beware, it isn’t always Aries! Finding someone’s “astral temperament”29 also requires a more complex set of calculations than I could figure out, but I know I can return to these finer points after further study.

Part two deals with the more practical matters of premodern herbalism: the fires, vessels, and processes required to extract the “juices” and salts of plants according to class. Reading it, I wondered if I would ever be able to try any of these preparations. My conclusion was that I would definitely need a mentor — too bad I can’t visit Mavéric in his laboratory. Plus, all of the preparations take time — thirty or forty days, the “philosophical month.”30

I wish I had gotten the book a little earlier, during lockdown, when I really would have had the time to digest it, and that I knew where to order an alembic. But whether you are reading the book for practical application or theoretical investigation, Marvéric supplies you with the raw material to engage in the beginnings of your own mental fermentation on the topic. In the meantime, I’m dreaming of distilling rainwater and dissolving salts, wondering how this all may be a metaphor for my own evolution. 

In conclusion, I think Hermetic Herbalism will be a useful companion during my study of both herbs and astrology, allowing me to deepen how I understand the interaction between the two. The astrological calculations described are quite complex, but give me something to look forward to as I continue my reading of the stars and the planets in relation to the Earth. All I need is some more “practice, patience and perspicacity”!31 I look forward to further translations of esoteric French works from this period by R. Bailey, who combines careful and clear translations with in-depth notes and references on the author’s sources that the original work lacks. The indexes (of common plant names, scientific plant names, authors, and subjects) and bibliography will make this book an important volume in my herbal library. 

Esoteric Mysteries of the Underworld, by Jean-Pierre Bayard

Esoteric Mysteries of the Underworld: The Power & Meaning of Subterranean Spaces, by Jean-Pierre Bayard
Inner Traditions, 978-1644110621, 320 pages, 2020

One of the first things I noticed about Esoteric Mysteries of the Underworld: The Power & Meaning of Subterranean Spaces was how incredibly dense it is. This book is not a light read; it’s meant for those serious about exploring the hidden symbolism and meaning found in the deepest recesses of the Earth. Perfectly poised to craft such a tome, Jean-Pierre Bayard was a prolific esoteric scholar and authored more than 50 books on topics such as Rosicrucianism, secret societies, symbolism, and the spiritual aspect of Freemasonry. Bayard passed away in 2008 leaving behind a legacy of gorgeous writings that are multilayered and diverse in their objective to share his vast knowledge. This specific book explores the spiritual aspects of the underworld; with many ancient cultures sharing similar beliefs around the power of underground spaces and natural rock formations, Bayard weaves together the similarities in a way that breathes life into these places often thought devoid of life.

This book called to me instantly, as the myths of humans and demigods traversing through the underworld on their various journeys to find themselves is an appealing theme. Included with this thematic exploration of myth, symbology, deities, and beliefs is a guide to the spiritual energies that ebb and flow beneath our feet. Reading this book caused me to become more aware of my surroundings and to pay attention to subtle shifts in energies around me, as often they are telltale signs of things to happen. Not to say I accurately predicted lottery numbers; this was more of an awareness of present energies and their patterns. Birds suddenly flocking around me signaling an approaching predator (a cat), a squawking crow alerting me to a changing traffic light, and so on. Situations like this may seem mundane, as most of us have experienced some form of what I mentioned at some point, but when taken in a spiritual light as a form of an all-encompassing connection it becomes so much more.

The book is separated into two parts: “The Symbolism of the Underworld and the Cave” and “The Cavern.” Dealing with topics such as telluric currents, underground water, underground gems and so on, the book lays out very detailed explanations of each topic and why it’s relevant. The meaty stuff is where I turned to first: underground temples, initiatory passageways, underground labyrinths, and more. This is why you buy this book: these topics are so thoroughly explored you feel as thought you’ve just earned a degree. Bayard references his previous books as additional sources of information, not out of megalomania but because he really does know that much about these things. There is no bravado here, it’s all just information presented in a very high level manner that is a joy to read. An in-depth bibliography, endnotes presented by chapter, and two appendices (one listing definitions from the Mytho-Hermetic Dictionary and the other a two page piece on Hollow Earth Mysticism) are nice additions to the book. These provide great resources for those who may require further explanation. I love when writers include their notes on the resources they used and referred to in their work as quite often it leads to discovering more information and new writers. Everything is connected.

Perhaps my favorite section of the entire book is lucky chapter eight, “Descent Into Hell.” This chapter delves into the notion of hell. It does not focus on the Christian aspect of the region, but instead goes into vast details about the symmetry of the place as an idea — one that is described using similar vernacular across various cultures and time periods. I appreciated this shift away from the whole “lake of fire and eternal damnation” imagery immensely. Bayard explains his choice to explore other aspects of the realm by reminding the reader that this has already been explored in a previous book. Again, this does not come across as bragging, merely a statement that if one wishes to know more about that specific topic, there is another book by the same author that could give you what you are looking for.

What I also love about this book is how Bayard takes all of this information and somehow manages to not only make it interesting, but to also leave space for the reader to question. There is no feeling that the material presented is the final word on any of the subjects contained within: this is more of collection of writings on a variety of topics that all have an esoteric thread linking them to one another. Each section blends seamlessly into the next and there is enough information in each section that links to the next, something that I found kept me on track and engaged despite the vast amount of information being presented.

Bayard’s style of writing might be off putting to some who may be used to more humor in their reading material. He writes in a tone that imparts the information in a very straight forward way, almost like a lecture but with more depth. Personally, I found his voice to be very to the point and without any frills, something that is rare when dealing with esoteric topics. I will admit I haven’t delved too deeply into the topic of the underworld previously, as it seemed unavailable to me, and now after reading Bayard’s Esoteric Mysteries of the Underworld, I think I am ready to have another go at it.