Here’s hoping you are well and life is swell wherever you are! Sadly I have less to report this time (life in Essex makes the average puddle look like a rave party). That said, I have now tried ‘Filthy Tramp Juice’ at a festival—an achievement sadly diminished by the foul taste of said cider.
Would the author of this next Spotlight have enjoyed such a drink? It’s not impossible. For the redoubtable figure we discover today was once known as the ‘Wickedest Man in the World’ and ‘The Great Beast’ (although the second title did come from The Daily Mail. For those outside of Britain, this website should tell you whether you should read the Mail).
There are some facts about Crowley (born Edward Alexander) which are certain at least. Firstly, he was born into a wealthy family and enjoyed a high-quality upbringing. Secondly, he was extremely bright, showing a strong performance at Cambridge (before he dropped out as a result of illness and an existential crisis). Thirdly, he was either a fantastic actor or stark-raving bonkers.
Crowley was an occultist, a libertine, and many other things besides in his time. His larger-than-life figure, cultivated mystique, sexual experimentation, drug usage, and general oddness were allied to a keen mind and a sharp wit, all of which led to an over-sized ego. Making connections with other esoterics was difficult, at best—he fell out with W.B. Yeats in a fit of jealousy whilst Arthur Waite, famous for the Ryder-Waite Tarot cards, is parodied in Moonchild itself.
Crowley died a broke, broken, drug-addled figure, and most of his literary works have fallen by the wayside since then. So here is my attempt to restore some glory to a much mocked but deeply intelligent author.
Crowley was an occultist, a libertine, and many other things besides in his time. His larger-than-life figure, cultivated mystique, sexual experimentation, drug usage, and general oddness were allied to a keen mind and a sharp wit, all of which led to an over-sized ego. Making connections with other esoterics was difficult, at best—he fell out with W.B. Yeats in a fit of jealousy whilst Arthur Waite, famous for the Ryder-Waite Tarot cards, is parodied in Moonchild itself.
Crowley died a broke, broken, drug-addled figure, and most of his literary works have fallen by the wayside since then. So here is my attempt to restore some glory to a much mocked but deeply intelligent author.
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