Esotericism Literature and Culture in Ce PDF

ESOTERICISM, LITERATURE AND CULTURE
IN CENTRAL AND EASTERN EUROPE

ESOTERICISM, LITERATURE AND CULTURE IN CENTRAL
AND EASTERN EUROPE
Ceenaswe 2 (Second Conference of Central and Eastern European Network
for the Academic Study of Western Esotericism)
Academic committee
Boaz Huss (Ben Gurion University, Beersheba);
Sergey V. Pakhomov (Saint-Petersburg State University);
Marco Pasi (University of Amsterdam);
Rafał T. Prinke (Eugeniusz Piasecki University, Poznań);
Yuri Stoyanov (University of London-Albright Institute Jerusalem);
György Endre Szönyi (University of Szeged-Central European University, Budapest);
Nemanja Radulović (University of Belgrade)
Published by
Faculty of philology, University of Belgrade
Acting Publisher
Ljiljana Marković
Edited by
Nemanja Radulović
Picture on the cover

Leonid Šejka, The Omega Chamber II (replica) (1969)
Museum of Contemporary Art, Belgrade
Printed by
e-mail: office@cigoja.com
www.cigoja.com
Copies
300
ISBN 978-86-6153-530-7
ESOTERICISM, LITERATURE AND
CULTURE IN CENTRAL AND
EASTERN EUROPE
CEENASWE 2
(SECOND CONFERENCE OF CENTRAL AND
EASTERN EUROPEAN NETWORK FOR THE ACADEMIC STUDY
OF WESTERN ESOTERICISM)
Edited by:
NEMANJA RADULOVIĆ
BELGRADE, 2018.
Table of Contents
Nemanja Radulović
FOREWORD......................................................................................... 9
Yuri Stoyanov
Esotericism and Visionary Mysticism in Medieval
Byzantine and Slavonic Orthodox Pseudepigraphic
and Heretical Literature..................................................... 13
Vitalii Shchepanskyi
Hermes Trismegist and the Image of the
Scientist-Magician Sharija Skara in the
Orthodox Slavic Environment.......................................... 29
Jiří Michalík
The initial reception of Paracelsus
in Czech Alchemy....................................................................... 45
Rafał T. Prinke
Michael Sendivogius as a Literary Anti-hero............ 61
György E. Szönyi
The Modern Adept: A Novel on Alchemy and Its
Hungarian Reception in the Time of the
Enlightenment........................................................................... 79
Martin Javor
Freemasonry Magazines in Central Europe
in the 18th Century.................................................................... 91
Esotericism, Literature and Culture in Central and Eastern Europe
Nemanja Radulović
Esotericism, Orthodoxy and Romanticism
in P. Petrović Njegoš’s The Ray of the Microcosm.... 103
Ewelina Drzewiecka
“Enlightened Esotericism”: A Case Study on
Migrating Ideas in the Modern Bulgarian
Tradition..................................................................................... 119
Eugene Kuzmin
Valerij Brjusov (1873–1924): Selling the Soul
as a Method of Research..................................................... 133
Konstantin Burmistrov
Russian Emigration of the 1920s–1930s
in Yugoslavia and Esotericism........................................ 143
Mauro Ruggiero
Otokar Březina, a Czech Poet between
Symbolism and Esotericism................................................ 153
Jan Miklas-Frankowski
Visions from San Francisco Bay as an Example
of Esotoric Inspirations in Czesław Miłosz’s
Work ............................................................................................. 163
Stanislav Panin
Esoteric Poetry in the Late USSR: The Case
of Jan Koltunov....................................................................... 175
Pavel Nosachev
The Influences of Western Esotericism on Russian
Rock Poetry of the Turn of the Century.................... 183
Kateryna Zorya
The Post-Soviet Tolkien Spirituality Milieu:
A Comparative Study.............................................................. 193
Massimo Introvigne
Artists and Theosophy in Present-Day Czech
Republic and Slovakia.......................................................... 215
Table of Contents
Spyros Petritakis
“Throughout the Dark, the Light”: Mapping Out
the Networks of The osophists in Pre- and
Interwar Athens through Specific Case Studies
from Nikolaos Gyzis to Frixos Aristeas...................... 225
Nikola Pešić
New Age Healing in Marina Abramović’s Art ............ 241
Sergej Macura
The Bride of Night: An Esoteric Journey
in Against the Day................................................................... 259
Olaf Stachowski
The Art of Howling: A History of European Spirit
Evocation Practice and Its Possible
Hellenistic Roots................................................................... 273
FOREWORD
As is well known, the ESSWE organisation, one of the handful of those

dedicated to the study of the phenomenon defined as Western esotericism,
operates across several networks. Some of them are of thematical
(esotericism in antiquity, esotericism and art), and some are of regional
and national character (thus there are the Scandinavian, Irish and Israeli
networks; we may mention here that similar Russian, South American
and Japanese organisations are also affiliated with ESSWE). The idea of
organising a network that would cover the area often termed Central and
Eastern Europe was proposed in the 2013 Gothenburg conference. The idea
came to fruition in Budapest in the summer of 2014, when the foundation
colloquium with the topic Western Esotericism in Eastern and Central Europe
over the Centuries was organised at the Central European University, which
signalled the official constitution of the network. As the conferences are
organised in the interim of ESSWE, the second meeting was held at the
Faculty of Philology in Belgrade in 2016. Regarding the study focus at the
faculty, philological research took centre stage, and the topic was formulated
as Esotericism, Literature and Culture in Central and Eastern Europe. The book
before the reader consists of the papers from that conference. Apart from
this basic information, I would like to give a few words of introduction.
We opted for a broader approach to the study of national languages
which does not only include literature, but culture as well. However, the
reader will see that the bulk of papers are dedicated to the very tracking
of the sources and/or the literary-historical context in which esotericism
came into contact with literature. From the viewpoint of esoteric studies,
which appears on the academic scene as a separate field, or at least a
field with claims for autonomy, it will be evident that, in contrast to the
methodologies deriving from the study of religion, the philological approach
dominates here. This approach, which can even seem traditional, like
10 Esotericism, Literature and Culture in Central and Eastern Europe
19th-century source research, is a necessary contribution to the histories

of various national literatures in that it supplements them with another
still insufficiently researched phenomenon. (It is especially encouraging
that some of the papers originated as parts of Ph.D. research, which means
that we can expect more comprehensive monographic discussions of the
presence of esoteric topics in literature). Esotericism is thus acknowledged
and confirmed as one of the thematic sources and as part of culture which
is neither marginal nor problematic, but worth researching.
Lacunae in literary historiography – in comparison to the study of
influences of the Bible or classical mythology – seem to cause a parallel
convergence of multiple methodologies, from a nearly positivist biographism
to the most recent directions. This is not merely a methodological pluralism,
but perhaps a consequence of belated reception.
At the same time, several more general questions seem to be raised. For
example, is it proper to operate under the very framework of “Eastern and
Central Europe”? Is it a concept imposed from the outside; to what extent
were various ideologies inscribed into it: from pre-Romantic exoticism to
the Cold War divisions or Habsburg-nostalgic insistence on Mitteleuropa?
(Is Greece Eastern Europe? Yugoslavia was not part of the Warsaw Bloc,
and there was no communist rule in Greece. Are the Baltic countries rather
Northern Europe,? Is Russia part of it or a self-contained whole? Where
are the boundaries between the East and the South or between the East
and the North in these equally imaginary and political conceptions?).
Several different cultural wholes overlap beneath this term. They have
been researched and defined in different manners: Slavia Orthodoxa,
Slavia Romana, the Byzantine commonwealth, “the other Europe” etc.
The researchers exhibit several recurrent features of these parts. One is
certainly the thesis of a reception of Western cultural and literary patterns
in modernity. In wake of this came a powerful reception of Herderian ideas
in the late 18th century, which also has a bearing on the understanding of
national identity and culture. The experience of accelerated modernisation in
the 20th century eventually came to many countries in the form of communism.
This type of change was perhaps best felt in the cultures of Orthodox peoples,
which beginning with the 17-18th centuries shifted from one model (Byzantine
and religious) to another (Western, secularised). This rapid transition is well
indicated in the histories of literature and the visual arts.
The papers in the proceedings address the above-mentioned
topics. One group of papers are dedicated to the exact premodern forms
of esotericism in the area of Byzantine influence, linking the heritage of
antiquity to the early modern forms (Stoyanov, Ščepanskij). The question
of how much the recent definitions of Western esotericism can be applied
Foreword 11
to this region is of particular interest for future research. More precisely: is

it only about the reception of Western forms (which is beyond doubt in the
modern period) or is there a connection (continuity) with the older forms?
The same question can be posed at the literary level (whether Dostoevsky
is only a follower of the European novel – admirer of George Sand – or
he also uses forms of the older literary tradition). Other papers examine
the modern period: a reception of alchemical topics (Michalík) or of the
Enlightenment (Szönyi, Javor), all the way to Romanticism (Radulović) and
recent literature (Prinke, Frankowski). The echoes of the Enlightenment
in esotericism and culture are even wider (Drzewiecka). The topic of the
relation of literature and esotericism cannot avoid symbolism with major
effects of French influences that included occultism (Kuzmin, Ruggiero).
The interwar period, which features phenomena like the Russian emigration
(Burmistrov) shows that esotericism is not separated from the mainstream
anywhere. A section of papers demonstrates that art was inspired by the same
influences even in the communist age (Panin, Pešić), whereas nowadays it
is spreading through popular culture as well (Nosačev, Zorya). Some papers
confirm parallel currents in the visual arts (Introvigne, Petritakis). Finally,
we also opened our proceedings to the reception of Eastern topics in the
Western novel (Macura); we also wanted to offer insight into contemporary
research related to a more general theory in these parts (Stachowski).
What draws attention is that, seen historically, the reception of
esotericism largely overlaps with the shift of influences as formulated
by classical literary histories. This does not only speak abouth the topic
sources, but about a much broader cultural dynamics in several cultures,
which again demonstrates that esotericism has followed certain broader
cultural movements.
Nemanja Radulović
821.411.16’02.09
21.14’04.09
Yuri Stoyanov*
SOAS, London – Albright Institute, Jerusalem
Esotericism and Visionary Mysticism in Medieval

Byzantine and Slavonic Orthodox
Pseudepigraphic and Heretical Literature
The presence of characteristic elements of esotericism and visionary

mysticism in medieval Byzantine and Slavonic Orthodox pseudepigraphic
and heretical literature was not among the main subjects of early scholarly
study of medieval pseudepigraphy and European dissent and heresy. Early
scholarly investigations of medieval dualist heresy (specifically, Paulicianism,
Bogomilism and related groups in Eastern Christendom, as well as Catharism
in Western Christendom) developed under the impact of the trajectories and
themes of Catholic-Protestant polemical controversies over the character,
teachings and ritual practices of medieval heretical, dissenting and reformist
groups, a polemic whose first formative stages can be traced back to the
sixteenth century. However, the publication of a series of major primary
sources for the history and doctrines of medieval Eastern and Western
Christian heresies, and Christian dualism in particular, in the nineteenth
and twentieth centuries transformed the study of medieval heresy, leading
to far-reaching reappraisals, modifications and rebuttals of early modern
Protestant and Catholic stances and postulates in the spheres of heresiology
and heresiography.
The steady expansion of the historical-critical and source-based
study of medieval dualist heresy from the mid-nineteenth century onwards
increasingly demonstrated that the inherited polemical reconstructions
of doctrinal, direct historical or sectarian continuities between medieval
dualist communities (eastern or western) and the reformed churches,
as inherited from the Catholic-Protestant confessional disputes linking,
cannot be substantiated. The continuous attempts, still current in recent
scholarship, to adopt or draw on medieval heresiological definitions of
dualist heresy, whether Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, as directly stemming
* ys3@soas.ac.uk
14 Yuri Stoyanov
from late antique Gnostic traditions (Manichaean or other) or as a merger of

earlier heresies, has also been shown as groundless, misleading and largely
ahistorical.
In the course of the nineteenth century the study of Bogomil,
Bogomil-related and Bogomil-labeled communities, groups and individuals
in the medieval Byzantine and Balkan world also began to assimilate newly
conceptualized and actively propagated Slavophile or Slavophile-inspired
approaches which were eventually to have a lasting impact on Russian and
Balkan scholarly and public discourses on the nature and role of heretical
trends and movements in the religious history of Slavia Orthodoxa. Some
of these discourses later appeared in varied combinations with more
distinctly ethnocentric, socio-economic and Marxist reconstructions and
theories. The Marxist approach eventually enjoyed its rather inflexible
and doctrinaire manifestations in the institutionalized authorized Marxist
historiographic models in the Eastern Bloc countries during the Cold War
era. Again, the cumulative evidence of the external and internal sources
for Eastern Christian heresies and communities clearly shows that neither
their doctrinal characteristics nor historical fortunes can be assessed or
understood on a social, regional or national basis alone, and they elude
simplistic and ideological explanations in any such limited socio-economic
or ethno-confessional frameworks.
As a rule, such socio-economic, socio-political and ethnocentric
approaches to medieval Eastern Christian dualism display minimal or no
interest in the notions of esotericism and visionary mysticism in the relevant
extant evidence. Indeed this problematic has not so far been subjected to a
detailed analysis as an area of study of their own. Hence it is still impossible
to provide a more systematic discussion of such traditions of esotericism
and mysticism in medieval Christian dualism against the background of
the analogous preceding traditions in Gnosticism, Manichaeism and early
Christianity (or corresponding developments in medieval Christianity).
Clearly, what needs to be done in the current preliminary stages of research
into this particular sphere of the study of medieval dualist heresy is to
identify some of the characteristic reports and evidence regarding such
ideas and practices among medieval dualist sectarians and look for some
clues to their potential theological, historical and cultic provenance.
Given the current state of evidence, the application of the contact-
diffusion model (perhaps still the most widely used in religious history)
cannot solve the question of more or less securely identifying such
provenance in the case of medieval Eastern Christian dualism. In the wake
of the dissemination of diverse Gnostic dualist and related teachings during
late antiquity, the residues and actual and possible carriers of such traditions
in early medieval Christendom become very problematic to detect and
Esotericism and Visionary Myticism in Medieval Byzantine... 15
define with any certainty. Early medieval cases and reports of the survival
of Gnostic dualist traditions and ‘Manichaeism’ should be treated critically
and cautiously since in early medieval Byzantium the term ‘Manichaean’
was used again and again to label not only alleged heretics, but also political
and religious adversaries of the imperial and clerical authorities advancing
the charges.
Thus earlier scholarly theories that in the early medieval period
the heterodox movement of the Messalians (also known as Euchites and
Enthusiasts) served as a crucial link in a historical chain theorized to connect
Gnostic dualism and Manichaeism, on the one hand, and medieval dualist
heresy or ‘neo-Manichaeism’, on the other, have not been corroborated by
later and current research. An anti-clerical pietist sect which reportedly
spread from north-east Mesopotamia to Syria and Asia Minor where they
retained their presence at least until the seventh century, much about
the actual teachings of the Messalians remains obscure. Their reported
apparent principal belief postulated that from birth in every man dwells
a demon, whose banishment cannot be achieved by baptism alone, but
through unceasing, zealous prayer and spiritual ‘baptism by fire’, a teaching
clearly underpinned by a specific anthropological dualism, accompanied
by prescriptions for periods of strict asceticism, ecstatic practices and
visionary mysticism. The potential importance of Messalianism lies not in
the sphere of the transmission of Gnostic and theological dualist traditions,
but as a sectarian and monastic carrier of ecstatic and mystical traditions
which also found their manifestation in Byzantine mysticism and medieval
Eastern Christian dualism.
Likewise the origins and early expansion of Paulicianism (which
need to be cautiously and critically investigated against the backdrop of the
distinctive currents and undercurrents in the complex early medieval religious
development in Armenian-speaking areas in the Caucasus and eastern Asia
Minor) remain still very obscure and even an approximate reconstruction
of their general outlines continues to be plagued by a number of religious
and historical problems. Byzantine polemicists and heresiologists largely

For analyses of the evidence concerning the teachings and the cultic traditions of the
Messalians, see, for example, I. Hausherr, Études de spiritualité orientale (Rome, 1969), 64–96,
R. Staats, Gregor von Nyssa und die Messalianer (Berlin 1968); A. Louth, “Messalianism and
Pelagianism,” Stadia Patristica, 17.1 (1982): 127–135; C. Stewart, ‘Working the Earth of the
Heart’: The Messalian Controversy in History, Texts, and Language to AD 431 (Oxford, 1991); K.
Fitschen, Messalianismus und Antimessalianismus. Ein Beispiel ostkirchlicher Ketzergeschichte
(Göttingen, 1998); B. Bitton-Ashkelony , “Neither Beginning nor End”: The Messalian
Imaginaire and the Formation of Syriac Asceticism, Adamantius 19 (2013): 222–239.

See the recent discussions of evidence and main areas of scholarly debate and
controversies in J. Hamilton and B. Hamilton, ‘Historical Introduction. The Origins of
16 Yuri Stoyanov
regarded and denounced Paulicianism as a revival of Manichaeism, attributing

to its adherents belief in the radical dualist doctrine of two gods or principles,
as well as Docetic Christology, emphatic iconoclasm and rejection of the
normative church sacraments and hierarchy. However, a direct Manichaean
impact on early Paulicianism’s teachings and organizational hierarchy is
unlikely, as the latter lacked the crucial Manichaean division between the
elect and the listeners which is also associated with traditions of doctrinal
and cultic secrecy (though there are certain indications of teachings or
‘mysteries’ preserved for the few ‘perfect in impiety’ Paulicians). Moreover,
while much of early Paulician organization and cultic life remain unknown,
it is certain that no Paulician groups advocated and followed the ascetic
practices of the Manichaean elect, including rigorous abstinence from meat,
wine and marriage.
The insufficient evidence of notions and practices of esotericism and
visionary mysticism among communities such as the Paulicians, whose
beginnings and role in medieval Christian dualism preceded that of Bogomilism
in Eastern and Catharism in Western Christendom, clearly indicates that
the exploration of the background of these notions and practices in the two
later dualist movements needs to be explained and diversified also in other
directions. As already emphasized, indiscriminate charges of ‘Manichaeism’
in early medieval Byzantium further obstruct and complicate the detection of
potential authentic survivals of Manichaeism beyond the reign of Justinian
I (527 to 565) when church and state effectively joined forces to apparently
extinguish the activities and presence of the Manichaean Church of Light
in the empire. Certainly no verifiable evidence has been unearthed so far to
testify to any historic continuities of Manichaeism or any form of Gnosticism
in Byzantium and the Balkans into the period immediately preceding the (re)
Christianization of the non-Byzantine-ruled regions of South-East Europe
which started in the last decades of the ninth century.
At the same time, proto-Gnostic, Gnosticizing and dualist-leaning
ideas and narratives were retained in the medieval versions of early Jewish
and Christian pseudepigraphic works which notwithstanding their official
prohibition, continued to be circulated (mostly in Eastern Christendom) in
a variety of milieux. In a process which has earlier precedents, such notions
Christian Dualism’, in Christian Dualist Heresies in the Byzantine World c. 650–c.1450, eds.
J. Hamilton and B. Hamilton, assist. ed. Y. Stoyanov (Manchester 1998), 5–25; Y. Stoyanov,
The Interchange between Religious Heterodoxies in the Balkans and Caucasus – the Case
of the Paulicians, in The Balkans and Caucasus: Parallel Processes on the Opposite Sides of the
Black Sea, ed. I. Bilyarski, et al. (Cambridge 2012), 106–116.

Petrus Siculus, “Historia Manichaeorum qui et Paulicani dicuntur”, Les Sources
grecques pour l’histoire des Pauliciens d’Asie Mineure, ed. C. Astruc et al.,Travaux et mémoires
4 (1970): 19.
and narratives preserved in pseudepigraphic literature could from time to

time be ‘re-discovered’ and become influential in dissident, heterodox, ,
monastic or learned circles. This process could lead to medieval reassertions
of the doctrinal and theological attitudes and stances (including those
involving various kinds of doctrinal and cultic esotericism) originally
developed in such surviving and inherited pseudepigraphic literary works
as well as their re-interpretations and re-formulations in novel medieval
settings. Such a medieval sectarian and ‘heretical’ after-life of early Jewish
and Christian pseudepigraphic literature is certainly attested in the case
of Bogomilism with whose emergence and spread in the early phases of
the re-Christianization processes in the Balkans newly Christianized tenth-
century Bulgarian kingdom, medieval Christian dualism embarked a new
and more expansive stage of its history.
The growing amount and availability of diverse source material for
medieval Eastern Christian dualism has also led to a greater understanding
of the importance of various traditions of earlier pseudepigraphic and
parabiblical literature in the formation and elaboration of some of its
principal cosmological, diabological, Christological and eschatological
themes and narratives. It is certainly significant that some of the
pseudepigraphic affinities of these dualist narratives and notions are
especially evident in such a crucial internal source for Eastern Christian
dualism as the Bogomil apocryphon, Interrogatio Iohannis, affinities which
became the focus of scholarly attention in the early phases of its study.
The extant records of Paulician dualist teachings do not allow as
yet an assessment of the potential role pseudepigraphical literature in
Armenia and Byzantium may have played in the formative or later stages
of Paulician doctrinal traditions. In the diverse evidence of the accounts
of and allusions to Bogomil dualism, however, one may detect notions and
narratives variously related, for instance, to parabiblical embellishments of
the Genesis creation and flood stories, apocryphal and heretical satanologies
and Christologies, etc. Significantly, such parabiblical elaborations cannot
be discerned in the teachings of anti-clerical, heterodox and heretical
groups and movements preceding the emergence of Bogomilism. At the
same time, these parabiblical notions and narratives find immediate and
close parallels in the various pseudepigraphic literary works that came to be
translated and circulated in diverse Slavo-Byzantine contexts and milieux

The apocryphon is extant only in Latin and divides into two main versions; the first
version derives from a manuscript once in the archives of the Inquisition at Carcassonne but
subsequently destroyed: it survives in two late manuscripts and one printed text. Published
for the first time by J. Benoist, Histoire des Albigeois et des Vaudois ou Barbets, 2 vols. (Paris,
1691), I, 283–96; see the most recent critical edition of text, E. Bozóky, Le Livre secret des
cathares (Paris, 1980), 41–94.
18 Yuri Stoyanov
in the period of the formation of Slavo-Byzantine Orthodox theology and

learning in the wake of the missions of St Constantine-Cyril the Philosopher
and St Methodius (the Apostles of the Slavs) and their legacy: the Slavonic
versions of the Scriptures, liturgy and alphabet.
These parallels (largely the outcome of selective Christian dualist
appropriations) clearly highlight the extent to which the formation and
elaboration of Bogomil dualist theology (and its accompanying parabiblical
amplifications) was indebted to the some of the principal dynamic
processes in the formation of Slavo-Byzantine Orthodox and culture and
learning during which the Scriptures were translated into a language not
too remote from the existing Slavonic vernaculars. Another important
and symptomatic facet of these processes is that in the Slavonic indexes
of forbidden apocryphal books local priests were sometimes denounced
for being in possession of and disseminating such banned texts. This
situation almost certainly applies also to the initial phases of the reception
of Byzantine canonical and extra-canonical literature in Slavonic Orthodox
literary circles and schools and accounts for the various indications of a
wide-ranging translation and diffusion of extra-canonical apocryphal
literature in these early stages.
The interrelations between Slavo-Byzantine pseudepigraphical
literature and Bogomilism became the subject of scholarly scrutiny
with the initiation and progress of the study and publications of
the so-called Old Church Slavonic pseudepigrapha, some of which
like The Book of the Secrets of Enoch (2 Enoch) and The Apocalypse

The texts and the history of the Slavonic Indexes of Forbidden Books have attracted
the attention of scholars working in the field of medieval Slavonic studies; see, for example,
A. Pypin, “Dlja objasnenija stat’i o ložnyh knigah”, [Explanation of the article about false
books] Letopis’ zanjatii Arheografičeskoj kommisii, 1, 1861 (St Petersburg, 1862), 1–55 ; I. Ia.
Porfir’ev, Apokrifičeskie skazanija o vethozavetnyh licah i sobytijah [Apocryphal stories about
Oldtestamental characters and events] (Kazan, 1872), 142–68; O. Reusch, Der Index der
verbotenen Bücher, 2 vols. (Bonn, 1883–85); I. Ia. Iacimirskij, Bibliografičeskij obzor apokrifov
v južnoslavjanskji i russkoi pis’mennosti, 1, Apokrify vethozavetnye [Bibliographical review of
apocripha in South Slavic and Russian literacy: Old testamental apocrypha] (Petrograd,
1921), 1–75; B. St. Angelov, ‘Spisăkăt na zabranenite knigi v starobălgarskata knižnina’,
Izvestiia na instituta za bălgarska literatura 1 (1952): 107–59.

The first edition of the apocalypse as a whole was prepared by A. I. Popov (based
on a late seventeenth-century Russian manuscript of the long recension): A. I. Popov,
Bibliografičeskie materialy sobrannye A. N. Popovym, Čtenija v imperatorskom obščestve istorii
i drevnostei Rossijskih, 3 [Bibliographical material collected by A. N. Popov 3] (Moscow,
1880), 66–139, soon after which was published for the first time a manuscript of the short
recension: S. Novaković, “Apokrif o Enohu” [Apocryph of Enoch], Starine 16 (1884), 67–
81. For a bibliography of the subsequent editions, translations and studies of 2 Enoch,
see A. Orlov, ‘Selected Bibliography on the Transmission of the Jewish Pseudepigrapha
in the Slavic Milieux’, in A. Orlov, Selected Studies in the Slavonic Pseudepigrapha (Leiden,
of Abraham, are extant only in Slavonic, whereas others such as the

Slavonic versions of The Vision of Isaiah and The Greek Apocalypse of Baruch
(3 Baruch), preserve early and valuable textual traditions which often are
earlier than those represented in the other redactions. The identification
and exploration of the various redactional layers and earliest strata of
these pseudepigrapha have assumed wider significance and implications in
several areas of Jewish and Christian religious history after recent research
2009), 203–435 (222-43). On 2 Enoch and Bogomil doctrinal and narrative traditions, see
Y. Stoyanov, “Apocryphal Themes and Apocalyptic Traditions in Bogomil Dualist Theology
and their Implications for the Study of Catharism”(PhD diss., University of London, 2000),
73–90.

Like 2 Enoch and The Ladder of Jacob, The Apocalypse of Abraham is extant only in
Slavonic manuscripts. The Slavonic version of The Apocalypse of Abraham has been preserved
in a more or less full form in nine Russian manuscripts, the earliest of which date from the
fourteenth century and was published separately by N. S. Tihonravov, Pamjatniki otrečennoj
russkoi literatury, vol. 1 [Monuments of Russian apocryphal literature]. vol. 1 (Moscow, 1863),
32–53, and by I. I. Sreznevskij, Drevnie pamjatniki russkogo pis’ma i jazyka: obščee povremennoe
obozreni(St Petersburg, 1861–63), cols. 648–6. The recent important textual critical study of
the apocalypse includes an English translation of the text, A. Kulik, Retroverting Slavonic
Pseudepigrapha: toward the Original of the Apocalypse of Abraham (Atlanta, 2004), 9-37. For a
bibliography of the editions, translations and studies of The Apocalypse of Abraham, see Orlov,
“Selected Bibliography”, 246–56. On The Apocalypse of Abraham and Bogomil doctrinal and
narrative traditions, see Stoyanov, “Apocryphal Themes”, 99–104.

The Vision of Isaiah forms the second section (chapters 6–11) of the Martyrdom
and Ascension of Isaiah, a pseudepigraphon which weaves together important Jewish and
early Christian traditions about Isaiah – the latest critical edition of the text is prepared
by L. Perrone and E. Norelli, ‘Ascensione di Isaia profeta. Versione etiopica’ in P. Bettiolo
et al. (eds.), Ascensio Isaiae: Textus (Turnhout, 1995), 3–129. The original Slavonic version
of the Vision of Isaiah is preserved in 6 Slavonic manuscripts, the earliest of which is
included in the twelfth-century Russian manuscript, the so-called ‘Uspenskii sbornik’,
first published by A. Popov, Bibliografičeskie materialy, I, 13–20. For a bibliography of the
editions, translations and studies of the Slavonic version of the The Vision of Isaiah, see
Orlov, “Selected Bibliography”, 276–278. On the Vision of Isaiah and Bogomil doctrinal and
narrative traditions, see Stoyanov, “Apocryphal Themes”, 104–114.

The Greek Apocalypse of Baruch (3 Baruch) has been a subject of academic study
for more than a century. The text of a Slavonic version of the apocalypse was originally
published (from a fifteenth-century Serbian manuscript) for the first time by S. Novaković,
“Otkrivenje Varuhovo” [Baruch ‘s Revelation], Starine 18 (1886): 203–9; an edition of the
Greek text was prepared by M. R. James, “The Apocalypse of Baruch” in Apocrypha Anecdota
II (TS 5/1), ed. J. A. Robinson (Cambridge, 1897), li–lxxi; 83–94. For recent major studies
of the apocalypse, see D. C. Harlow, The Greek Apocalypse of Baruch (3 Baruch) in Hellenistic
Judaism and Early Christianity (Leiden, 1996), and most recently, A. Kulik, 3 Baruch: Greek-
Slavonic Apocalypse of Baruch (Berlin and New York, 2010), which includes a very valuable
new English translation of, and commentary on, the apocalypse, 89–386. For a bibliography
of the editions, translations and studies of 3 Baruch, see Orlov, “Selected Bibliography”, 278–
84. On 3 Baruch and Bogomil doctrinal and narrative traditions, see Stoyanov, “Apocryphal
Themes”, 90–99.
20 Yuri Stoyanov
has indicated their importance for the investigation of early Jewish and
Christian apocalypticism, Gnosticism and the development of the Jewish
Merkabah (‘Divine Chariot’) tradition. Since their texts have been edited at
various stages of the process of their transmission in various cultural and
religious milieux (including medieval Byzantine and Slavonic circles), the
separation and dating of the original material and the various secondary
interpolations have become the most urgent task in the study of these
pseudepigrapha.
The main debates surrounding the relationship between Bogomilism
and the development of the pseudepigraphical literature and its
principal genres in the Orthodox Slavonic world concern the problem of
possible Bogomil editorial interventions in the extant versions of various
pseudepigraphical works. The principal line of divergence in these debates
on the exact nature of the interrelations between medieval dualist heresy
and pseudepigraphical and parabiblical literature translated, edited or
compiled in the medieval Eastern Orthodox world still concerns contrasting
approaches to the ‘wider’ or ‘narrower’ definition of the term ‘Bogomil
apocryphon’.10 Furthermore, the analogies between Bogomil teachings
and apocryphal and popular cosmogonic traditions which circulated in the
medieval Orthodox Slavonic-Byzantine world has attracted the attention of
both investigators of Bogomilism and the pseudepigraphical genre as well
as folklorists, anthropologists and medievalists in general.
The early availability of pseudepigraphic and extracanonical literature
in clerical, monastic and lay learned circles taking part in the formation
of Slavo-Byzantine literary culture thus made it possible for potential
heterodoxies to emerge and in the case of Bogomilism, to be embellished
by literal borrowings of apocrypha-derived narratives, themes and notions,
combined with creative and allegorical exegesis of the scriptures, especially
the New Testament, which in addition could be preached and spread in the
vernacular.
10
For the wider definition, see, for example, I. Ivanov, Bogomilski knigi i legendi
(Sofia, 1925); P. Dimitrov, “Bogomil” and “Bogomilski skazaniia i legendi”, in P. Dimitrov,
Petăr Černorizec (Shumen, 1995), resp. 116–67 and 140–67; D. Dimitrova, “Tainata kniga na
bogomilite v sistemata na starobălgarskata literatura” [Bogomil secret book in the system
of old Bulgarian literature], Preslavska knižovna škola, 1 (1995): 59–69. For the narrow
definition, see É. Turdeanu, “Apocryphes bogomiles et apocryphes pseudo-bogomiles”, Revue
d’histoire des religions 138 (1950): 22–52, 176–218; M. Loos, Dualist Heresy in the Middle
Ages (Prague, 1974), 84, 85, 88, 134, 143–44, 340; D. Dragojlović, Bogomilstvo na Balkanu
i u Maloj Aziji [Bogomilism on the Balkans and in Asia Minor] (Belgrade, 1974), 186–95;
D. Dragojlović and V. Antić, Bogomilstvoto vo srednovekovnata izvorna graga (Bogomilism in
original medieval sources) (Skopje, 1978), 31–45. Cf. Minissi, N., “La tradizione apocrifa e
la origini del bogomilismo”, Ricerche slavistiche 3 (1954): 97–113.
This strand is evident in some of the reports concerning the practices

or training of the Bogomil perfecti such as Euthymius of the Peribleton’s
Epistula contra Phundagiagitas sive Bogomilos11 and Euthymius Zigabenus’
Kata Bogomilon, a section in his Panoplia Dogmatica.12 Both accounts assert
that initiation into Bogomil teachings proceeded gradually, indicating that
prior to the teleiosis ordinary believers were not introduced to what was
considered the inner doctrines, preserved for the heretical elite. According
to Euthymius Zigabenus, as a mark of their initiation and status, the perfecti
bore the title of the Virgin Mary, Theotokos (God-Bearer), as they were seen
as receptacles of the Holy Spirit and as giving birth to the Word; the parable
in Matthew 7:6 (‘Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls
to pigs’) was interpreted as alluding to the vital need of doctrinal secrecy,
the pearls being the ‘mysterious and precious’ tenets of Bogomilism, the
preserve of the teleoi (‘perfect’).13 Euthymius of the Periblepton asserts that
in such elite Bogomil milieux, Mark 4:11 (‘The secret of the kingdom of
God has been given to you. But to those on the outside everything is said in
parables’) was quoted and used for their claims of exclusive knowledge of
the mystery of the Kingdom of God.14 Like the ancient Gnostic pneumatic
elite the medieval Bogomil teleoi (and subsequently the Cathar perfecti) were
thus seen by their followers and sympathizers as guardians and repositories
of the authentic teaching of Christ secretly revealed to his true apostles and
transmitted in secrecy thereafter, untainted by the corrupting interferences
and doctoring of the official Church.
The records of the Bogomil course of initiation provided by Euthymius
of the Periblepton and Euthymius Zigabenus suggest that the believers were
initially introduced to teachings and ethics close to evangelical Christianity
followed by gradual introduction to more heretical precepts, until the
general nature of the dualist doctrine was outlined to the neophyte. In
11
The text of Epistula contra Phundagiagitas sive Bogomilos of Euthymius of the
Periblepton is preserved in five manuscripts but only two contain the whole text. The letter
is contained in Patrologia Graeca, vol. 131, cols. 47–58, but is erroneously attributed to the
later theologian, Euthymius Zigabenus. Another edition is to be found in G. Ficker, Die
Phundagiagiten: Ein Beitrag zur Ketzergeschichte des byzatnischen Mittelalters (Leipzig 1908),
3–86; English translation in Hamiton, Hamilton and Stoyanov, Christian Dualist Heresies,
142–64.
12
Euthymius Zigabenus, Panoplia Dogmatica, PG, vol. 130; the Bogomil section,
“Kata Bogomilon”, comprises cols. 1289–1331; another version of this Bogomil section, De
haeresi Bogomilorum narratio, is also edited by Ficker in Die Phundagiagiten, 89–111. English
translation of the relevant section in Hamiton, Hamilton and Stoyanov, Christian Dualist
Heresies, 180–207.
13
Euthymius Zigabenus, “Kata Bogomilon”, col. 1317C; De haeresi Bogomilorum
narratio, ed. Ficker, Die Phundagiagiten, 100–101.
14
Euthymius of the Periblepton, Epistula, ed. Ficker, Die Phundagiagiten, 37.15–16.
22 Yuri Stoyanov
addition, Euthymius of the Periblepton furnishes a distorted polemical

account of the rite that marked the neophyte’s acceptance into the Bogomil
community, apparently intended to raise the novice from the rank of the
‘listener’ to the rank of the ‘believer’. According to his description, during
this rite of second baptism the book of the gospels was placed on the head of
the novice and heretical teachers recited over his head gospel verses as well
as a certain ‘Revelation of St. Peter’.15 Euthymius of the Periblepton briefly
describes the process of the further gradual initiation of the neophyte into
the heretical ‘mysteries’ which culminates in his rise from disciple into
one of the heretical teachers, but apart from few vague allusions does not
describe the actual rite of teleiosis.
According to Euthymius Zigabenus’ account, the Bogomil second
baptism or rite of acceptance into the sect first required a probationary
period for confession, purification and prayer after which the novice was
re-baptized in a ceremony during which the Gospel of John was placed on
his head and the Holy Spirit was invoked along with a recitation of ‘Our
Father’. Those believers who chose to progress further into the heretical
teachings and initiation had to undergo another, stricter probationary
period of instruction, prayer and purification (which could be variously
described as lasting one to two or three years) before they could be elevated
to the highest dualist grade of the teleoi and receive the teleiosis, which
comprised laying the gospel on the head of the proselyte followed by the
hands of the teleoi, amid liturgical chants and hymns of thanksgiving.16
In the sphere of doctrinal secrecy the extant evidence suggests
that both in Bogomilism and Catharism (at least at the high point of the
development of the latter) the elite class of the teleoi/perfecti were seen
both by their opponents and adherents as fully introduced to a corpus
15
Euthymius of the Periblepton, Epistula, ed. Ficker, Die Phundagiagiten, 50–57.
16
Euthymius Zigabenus, “Kata Bogomilon”, col. 1312 C-D; De haeresi Bogomilorum
narratio, ed. Ficker, Die Phundagiagiten, 100–101. The texts of the Bogomil rites of the
teleiosis, described by Euthymius Zigabenus and alluded to by Euthymius of the Periblepton,
have not been preserved but their descriptions find immediate parallels in the two extant
texts. Latin and Provencal, of the Cathar Ritual. The two texts of the Cathar Ritual have been
published in C. Thouzellier, Rituel cathare. Introduction, texte critique, traduction et notes (Paris
1976). Part of a later Slavonic Bosnian Ritual written by Radoslav the Christian parallels
closely the Cathar Ritual of Lyons and was almost certainly used by fifteenth-century
Christian dualists in Bosnia. The text was originally published by F. Rački, “Dva nova priloga
za poviest bosanskih Patarena” [Two new contributions to the study of Bosnian Patarins],
Starine, 14 (1882): 21–29. On the question of the links between the Cathar Ritual and the
extant evidence of Bogomil literature, see М. Cibranska-Kostova, “Katarskiiat trebnik i
bogomilskata knžnina (Cathar euchologion and Bogomil literature),” Palaeobulgarica 28/1
(2004): 42–68. See the English translation of its text: Y. Stoyanov, “The Ritual of Radoslav
the Christian”, in Hamilton, Hamilton and Stoyanov, Christian Dualist Heresies, 289–292.
of advanced theological teachings and a kind of a dualist historia arcana,

reportedly mastering in addition a system of allegorical interpretation of
the Scriptures which was widely used during missionary tours and the
occasional theological debates pursued by the ‘teachers of the heresy’.17
There are also indications that like some of the ancient ‘pneumatic’ Gnostics
and Manichaean elect, the Bogomil teleoi engaged in and possibly cultivated
certain practices of visionary mysticism and heavenly ascent18 which also
could have been adopted in Cathar circles.19 The extant evidence pointing
to such practices needs close examination in view of recent arguments that in
medieval Balkan and Byzantine heterodox and learned milieux new dualist
theologies could have developed from some versions of Byzantine Neo-
Platonism20 or radical forms of monastic mysticism. Such assertions and
reconstructions of doctrinal development draw on some telling analogies
between the terminology and practices in the Byzantine mystical tradition,
dualist Paulicianism and Bogomilism. In the case of Bogomilism and the
practices and teachings described by medieval polemicists as ‘Bogomil-
Messalian’,21 these analogies concern asceticism, contemplation and divine
vision and notions like man’s ability to ascend directly to God. Both the
parallels and the substantial contrasts illustrate the points of convergence
and divergence between Byzantine mysticism and Eastern Christian dualist
heresies (or between Christian mysticism and dualism, in general), and yield
some important clues about way in which the considerable differences and
doctrinal borders between the two respective currents of religiosity could
on occasions be blurred in the quest for spiritual Christianity.22
17
L. Paolini, “Italian Catharism and Written Culture”, in Heresy and Literacy 1000–
1530, eds. P. Biller and A. Hudson (Cambridge, 1994), 87–103.
18
Euthymius Zigabenus, “Kata Bogomilon”, col. 1312 C-D; De haeresi Bogomilorum
narratio, ed. Ficker, Die Phundagiagiten, 101.
19
See, for example, the report of Cathar ecstatic and visionary practices based on the
heavenly ascent narrative in The Vision of Isaiah published in J. J. I. von Döllinger, Beiträge
zur Sektengeschichte des Mittelalters, 2, Darmstadt 1968 [1890], 208–10.
20
See, for example, N. Garsoïan, “Byzantine Heresy. A Reinterpretation”, Dumbarton
Oak Papers 25 (1971): 87–114.
21
On the development of the equation between Bogomilism and Massalianism, see
A. Rigo, ‘Messalianismo=Bogomilismo: un equazione dell’eresiologia medievale bizantina’,
Orientalia Christiana Periodica 56 (1990): 53–82; for a discussion of the ‘cases’ and accusations
of ‘Massalianism’ in the framework of developments in the Byzantine mystical tradition and
its equation with Bogomilism, see J. Gouillard, “L’Héresie dans l’empire byzantin jusq’au xiie
siècle”, Travaux et mémoires 1 (1965): 299–324 (319–23).
22
On the ‘narrowing’ or ‘thinning’ of the borders between Christian asceticism/
mysticism and dualist heresy, see, for example, D. Obolensky, The Bogomils. A Study in Balkan
Neo-Manichaeism (Cambridge, 1948), 21; Garsoïan, ‘Byzantine Heresy’, 109–13; M. Angold,
Church and Society in Byzantium under the Comneni 1081–1261 (Cambridge, 1995), 472–73,
478. For the parallels and differences between the teachings of Symeon the New Theologian
24 Yuri Stoyanov
Another promising area which can yield clues to the provenance of

doctrinal and cultic esotericism in Bogomilism/Eastern Christian dualism
is the insufficiently-explored field of Byzantine alternative demonology,
especially in its popular forms in Anatolia and the Balkans and with all their
pre-Christian survivals. Byzantine alternative demonologies formed another
current in Byzantine and Balkan Christian culture and religiosity which
sometimes could approximate to modes of diabology in Christian dualism.
Both its elite and popular variations often attributed to demons powers
greater than normative Christianity could tolerate, and recent research has
highlighted the areas in which Bogomilism evolved and exercised an appeal
as a ‘particularly well structured and clearly thought out version’ of this
alternative demonological tradition.23 This appeal also included a perceived
expertise of demon-control, with all its implication in the sphere of popular
magic and superstition. Bogomil preoccupation with the need to defend and
purify oneself from the domination and aggression of the demonic powers
in the world and the claims of the Bogomil adepts to have gained salvation
from the diabolical dimension of reality through their spiritual baptism
could be popularly seen as an expertise in controlling and banishing demons
and further increase the appeal of Bogomil missionaries.24
On the one hand, therefore, the evidence and arguments are
growing that the anti-somatic and anti-cosmic aspects of Paulician and
Bogomil dualism (and analogous dualist-leaning developments in lay
and monastic mysticism) need to be investigated in this wider context
of the undercurrents of heresy, heterodoxy and alternative demonology
in the Byzantine and Eastern Christian world in general. On the other
hand, despite the important differences between ancient Gnosticism and
the medieval dualism of Bogomilism and Catharism (both in the fields
of theology and ritual),25 there exist some curious parallels between the
traditions of doctrinal and cultic esotericism developed in the respective
ancient and medieval currents of religious dualism. These parallels include
that of earlier Gnostic borrowings and transformation of some of the
central themes of the intertestamental Jewish pseudepigraphic (especially
and Bogomilism, see H. J. M. Turner, “St. Symeon the New Theologian and Dualist Heresies
– Comparisons and Contrasts”, St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 32 (1988): 359–66; H. J.
M. Turner, St Symeon the New Theologian and Spiritual Fatherhood (Leiden, 1990), 66–68.
23
R. P. H. Greenfield, Traditions of Belief in Late Byzantine Demonology (Amsterdam,
1988), 175, with a general discussion of Bogomil demonology on 166–176; see Angold,
Church and Society, 470; Hamilton, ‘Historical Introduction’, 42–43.
24
Greenfield, Traditions of Belief, 169; cf. Angold, Church and Society, 470; Hamilton,
‘Historical Introduction’, pp. 42–43.
25
See, for example, R. van den Broek, “The Cathars: Medieval Gnostics?,” in R. van
den Broek, Studies in Alexandrian Christianity and Gnosticism (Leiden 1996), 157–78.
apocalyptic) literature (frequently subjected to inverse – usually presented

as secret – scriptural exegesis), accounts of Gnostic and Manichaean
practices of apocalyptic and visionary techniques of heavenly ascent, as well
as Gnostic initiatory and baptismal traditions. At least some of these notions
seem to have entered Bogomilism (and subsequently Catharism) through
the assimilation of the medieval redactions of early Jewish and Christian
pseudepigraphic literature. However, not all extant notions of doctrinal
and cultic esotericism of Bogomil/Eastern Christian dualism highlight can
be traced to such absorption of pseudepigraphic literary texts which again
highlights the need to integrate more fully medieval Christian dualism into
the comparative scholarly study of western esotericism26 and mysticism,
focusing in particular on the evolving and shifting interrelations between
medieval pseudepigraphy, heavenly ascent apocalypticism, visionary
mysticism and religious secrecy in dualist as well as non-dualist heterodox
settings.
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141.331
821.163.41:271.222
821.161.2:271.222
Vitalii Shchepanskyi
The National University of Ostroh Academy, Ostroh
Hermes Trismegist and the Image of the

Scientist-Magician Sharija Skara in the Orthodox
Slavic Environment
The image of the scientist and magician in the Orthodox

intellectual environment
Nowadays post-Soviet religious scholars are quite interested in studying
“Western European esotericism” as a special cultural and historical
phenomenon. Therefore, at the beginning of the research, scholars
are making attempts to gather information about the phenomenon of
esotericism from all related humanistic disciplines, including ethnography,
cultural studies, sociology, philosophy, religious studies, theology and
others. The most important among them are the historical and religious
fields. The researchers are focused on intellectual history for the estimated
task requires special methodology and relevant information for the work.
In particular, scholars refer to the investigation of historical and cultural
context of esoteric studies origins and development, studying of historical
forms of esotericism, the determination of the role they play in social life,
while performing certain functions, as well as their impact on society. Some
Ukrainian scientists have a different opinion. For example, Jurij Zavgorodnij
believes that the study of esotericism should begin on the basis of national
traditions and peculiarities of understanding of this complex phenomenon
in intellectual history.
The study of the Ukrainian esoteric tradition of the Early Modern
period, when Ukraine was part of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, has not
been carried out. Nevertheless, the information about the existence of
esoteric literature and occult practices of “Western Russian” origin (as
* v.shchepanskyi@gmail.com

Zavgorodnij, Vyvčennja indijskoi filosofii v Ukrajini (1840–1980): do postanovky
pytanja [The study of Indian philosophy in Ukraine (1840–1980): to formulation of the
question], (Kyiv: Filosofska dumka, 2006), 56–70.
30 Vitalii Shchepanskyi
was noted by M.Speranskij and A.Sobolevskij) has been known at the

beginning of the 20th century. Nowadays there is no specialized research on
this topic. Usually the texts that are related to the issues mentioned above
describe separate aspects in the general historical context. Thus, they do
not have an expert assessment. Therefore, most of the monographs repeat
the conclusions and information provided by philologists and literary
scholars at the end of 19th and at the beginning of the 20th centuries during
the studying of the phenomenon of “apocryphical books”. There are also
no analytical studies of the penetration methods of esoteric literature on
the territory of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania as well as on the territory of
Ukraine, as the largest territorial unit in the Principality. Unfortunately, the
period of the 15th – 16th centuries is difficult to reconstruct. There are various
points of view on the time and circumstances of the initial introduction of
the Ukrainian, Belarusian and Lithuanian society to esoteric studies.
The present historical data convincingly indicate that the beginning
of the esoteric traditions dates back to the 15th century. At that time, Eastern
Orthodox Slavic culture had been influenced by the wide-spread, so-called
erroneous and apocryphal literature on astrology, divination and magic. This
literature was presented mainly by astrological and natural (herbal books)
collections (e.g. “Hromnyk”, “Ostrolohija”), that had Byzantine origins.
They usually contained descriptions of simple astronomical operations, for
example, determination of the lunar eclipse or Easter days recording. From
the astrological point of view, collections contained information about the
signs of the zodiac, the passage of the Sun through them and influence of
these circumstances on babies and on people’s fate. In this case a translation
group in Kiev is also worth mentioning, for according to M.Speranskij and
M.Taube they translated Aristotelevi Vrata (The Secret of Secrets), Šestokryl
and Kosmografija. The collection Aristotelevi Vrata is the most interesting in
the esotericism history discourse. Secretum Secretorum is one of the collection
texts that was translated from the Hebrew language into the old Ukrainian
or Belarussian. At least, the researchers M.Speranskij, V.F.Rayan believe

M. N. Speranskij, Iz istorii otrečennyh knig: Aristotelevy vrata, ili Tainaia tainyh [From
the history books renounced: Aristotle’s Gate or The Secret Secret], (Moskva: URSS, 2012),
199–201.

A. I. Sobolevskij, Perevodnaia literatura Moskovskoi Rusi XVI-XVII vv. [Translated
Literature in Moscow Rus XVI-XVII centuries], (Sankt-Peterburg Tipografia Imperatorskoi
akademiji nauk, 1903), 933–934.

М. Taube, “The Kievan Jew Zacharia and the Astronomical Works of the Judaizers”,
in Jews and Slavs 3, ed. by V. Moskovič et alii (Jerusalem: Hebrew University, 1995), 168–
198.

W. F.Ryan , The Bathhouse at Midnight An Historical Survey of Magic and Divination
in Russia. (University Park, Pa: Penn State University Press, 1999)
Hermes Trismegist and the Image of the Scientist-Magician Sharija Skara... 31
so. The scientist A.Sobolevskij confirms this thought in the work that is
devoted to the analysis of the Ukrainisms in that collection. This collection
is also valuable because it contained some books, which we can call esoteric
as their content was related to alchemy, astrology and witchcraft. The most
ineteresting translation is the book “From Peter the Egyptian...”, in which
the author describes the practice of divination with the help of lamb’s
shoulder blade. Charles Stuart F. Burnett claimed that Hermes Trismegistus
most likely was not the inventor of this magical practice, because the texts
describing this practice, were widespread in Arabic and Latin-speaking
surroundings. The authorship of these texts is attributed to Abu Yusuf
Yaqub ibn Ishaq as-Sabbah al-Kindi. We have found that the Old Slavic
translation was made from the 13th century Byzantine text. Michael Psellos
might be the author of this translation.
Apparently, this literature came to the Grand Duchy of Lithuania
mainly after the fall of Byzantium in 1453 and after the relocation of many
Byzantine scholars to the Central and Western European territory. This is
exactly where the Renaissance epoch had a great impact, which caused
the extraordinary flash of esoteric and occult traditions. Probably the
influence of esoteric content on the texts was not only Byzantine, but also
West European due to Jewish mediation. This happened as a great number
of Jewish people from France, Germany and Moravia moved to the Grand
Duchy of Lithuania and settled down across the Eastern European state.
Astrological works, as well as the collection Aristotelevi Vrata and different
kinds of herbal books and spellbooks were widespread among intellectuals,
who were interested in Renaissance scientific achievements. The scientist
from Kyiv Sharija Skara, may be very interesting for us in terms of this
interest raise in astrological knowledge.
At the end of the 15th century, during the so-called peroid of
Olelkivskij Renaissance in Kyiv, Sharija work of “warlock” and “astrologist”
led to the interest raise in astrology. The emergence of the so-called “heresy
of Judaism” is associated exactly with his name. At first this movement
took over some part of Orthodox clergy on the territory of Russia, where
“astrology and magic gained popularity along with temptations of a pseudo-
scientific revision of all old and medieval outlooks”. However, in the 15th
century there were not a great number of people who could be interested
in astrological texts. The society of Eastern Slavs was not prepared for the

Sobolevskyi, Perevodnaja literatura, 933.

C. Burnett, “Arabic Divinatory Texts and Celtic Folklore: A Comment on the Theory
and Practice of Scapulimancy in Western Europe”, Cambrian Medieval Celtic Studies,6 (1983):
31–42.
detailed and systematic adoption of such works due to the low level of basic
education.
The popularity of this literature grew in the 16th century. Also, a lot of
valuable masterpieces in translation, related to the esoteric tradition, were
made at that time. We have already mentioned them above. The statements
we can find in the texts of the well-known “Stohlavy Sobor” of 1551 in
Moscow do not seem strange. “So in our kingdom Christians have interest
towards lies and slander, but they kiss the cross or icon of saints and fight
on the battle field, shedding the blood, and that time wizards and sorcerers
teach on demons, on applied magic, on Aristotelevi vrata and on Rafli. They
read fortune on stars and planets, they watch days and hours. With those
devilish actions and relying on those magic they seduce the world and draw
it away from God”. As a result, the Orthodox clergy is actively trying to
convince the flock “to run from these books as you would run from Sodom
and Gomorrah,” and if you still happen to have these books in your hands,
burn it immediately. Besides the regulations of the “Stohlavy Sobor” we
can find similar warnings actually in each religious Orthodox text under
the fear of expulsion and curse. The ban concerned such wizard and magic
books as Rafli, Šestokryl, Vоronohraj, Ostrolohija, Zodii, Zvizdar, Arystotelevi
vrata.
The official bans were not enforced on the territory of the Grand Duchy
of Lithuania, although the close connection between the metropolitanates
in Moscow and Kyiv made its impact and the Church in Kyiv accepted those
bans. However, they were still in vain. Forbidden astrological and spell works
continued to spread because the allowed books were quite homogeneous and
did not satisfy the curious readers. Moreover, almost the whole clergy did
not know the modern literature and that is why they could not identify its
apocryphal character. Therefore, Old Church Slavonic collections contain
magic charms, spell books, New Testament and Old Testament apocrypha
along with the index of forbidden books. In a word, even literate people
copied books without any understanding of its harm or good.
The intellectual elite of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania had its own
attitude to the esoteric knowledge, astrological in particular. Duke Andrej
Kurbskij – one of the best educated people of his time, was among them.
Being in exile in Volyn region in the 2nd half of the 16th century, he made
translations of Church Fathers’ works into the Old Church Slavonic language.

V. V. Titov, Ložnyie i otrečennyie knigi slavjanskoi i russkoj stariny: Teksty – pervoistočniki
ХV–ХVШ vv. s primečanijami, kommentarijami i ščastičnym perevodom [False and renunciation
books Slavic and Russian antiquities. The texts of primary sources XV–XVIII centuries.
with notes, comments and partial translation], (Moscow: Gosudarstvennaja publičnaja
istoričeskaja biblioteka Rossii, 1999).
Moreover, Kurbskij studied philosophy of Aristotle and John of Damascus.

Together with Duke of Černihiv Mihajlo Obolenskij he was translating the
works of John of Damascus, and wrote a lot of physical philosophical works,
including Signs of Heaven (Pro znamennja nebesni) . It is the evidence of the
obvious interest towards astrological knowledge. According to this work,
Andrej Kurbskij divided astrology into two parts: truthful and flawed.
The real astrology was given to forefather Seth by God and its purpose
was “foreseing rains and droughts, winds and other phenomena.”10 This
meteorological and agricultural astrology was made for the weather and
harvest forecasts by “notable days” and carollers, by concurrence of week
days with Christmas days. Kurbskij believed that flawed astrology was
Zoroaster’s “devilish invention,” the secret of wizards and Persian wise
men, who could divine individuals’ fate according to the horoscope.
It is worth mentioning that A.Kurbskij said about the fact that “many
Christians [on the territory of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania] are engaged
in the flawed astrology.”11
There are a number of key personalities in the history of occult
sciences, the reconstruction of whose biographies would significantly widen
the research in the field of Early Modern history and esoterics. Of course, it
concerns Eastern Orthodox Slavs.
The problem appears bacause the most of known information came
to us from texts that were written by Orthodox clergy. In its turn, the
clergy forced out any suspicious activity and immediately judged doubtful
intellectuals. Therefore, it is difficult to identify if those scientists practiced
magic in reality or they became victims of political intrigues. Among all
esoteric disciplines on the territory of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania,
astrology took hold and developed properly.
In biographical context, the personality of Kyiv scientist Sharija
Skara is interesting to us. The exact dates of his lifetime are unknown, but
the references about him go back to the 15th century.
The majority of Russian and Ukrainian historians suppose that the
astrologist Sharija Skara was the founder of “heresy of the Judaizers”.12
D. Svjatskij was the first to oppose such interpretation.13 This version is
still disputable nowadays, as it is unknown if such heresy existed at all.
There are notes of Sharija left by Joseph of Volokamsk who said: “At that

M.Gromov, N. Kozlov, Russkaja filosofskaja mysl vekov, [Russian philosophical
thought X–XVII centuries], (Moskva: MGU, 1990).
10
Titov, Ložnye i otrečennye, 10.
11
12
Sobolevskij, Perevodnaia literatura, 912.
13
D. Svjatskij, Astronomija drevnej Rusi [Astronomy of Ancient Rus] (Moskva:
Russkaja panorama, 2007).
time the Jew named Sharija lived in Kyiv and he was the tool of the devil
— he maintained different wicked skills: magic and black art, the science
of celestial bodies such as astrology.”14 Therefore, Sharija is described here
as a magician, practitioner of black magic and astrologist. For Sharija’s
personality Ukrainian history has a well-known Jewish scientist from Kyiv
Zechariah Ben Aaron ha-Kohen. This assumption was proposed by Julius
Brutskus at the beginning of the 20th century. Israeli scientist M. Taube
supported this hypothesis.15 M. Taube was trying to prove that Zechariah
Ben Aaron translated the texts, which Russian scientists attribute to the
heresy of “the Judaizers.” Israeli scientist emphasize the following texts:
Logic by Moses Maimonides with appendices of philosophical works of
Al-Ghazali, Šestokryl or Šeš kenafanaim by Emmanuel bar Yakob Bonfils
from Tarakson; Kosmografija, the Slavic translation of which was based on
the work of the medieval British thinker of the 13th century Johannes de
Sacrobosco (Jon Holywood, Tractatus de sphaera, which was well known in
West Europe till the 17th century; Arystotelevi vrata which consists of the
second book of the medical treatise The study of the bodies structure and their
forms, also of liquids that predominate in them and of the other data, taken
from Physiognomy by the Persian doctor of the 10th century, Al-Razi, also it
includes the part of the Maimonides treatise On Poisoning that was written
in Arabic in 1199 and translated into Latin in the 13th century and later on
into the Hebrew language. These texts were translated by Sharija into the
Rutheni language (according to the terminology of M. Taube).16
As M. Taube mentioned: “It is reliably known that Sharija from
Kyiv wrote five fragments of work copies on astronomy and philosophy.
All fragments are dated, they often mark the place of correspondence.
Therefore, it can be said that Zechariah Ben Aaron lived in Kyiv, at least
from 1454 to 1468. His last known copy, fragments from the treatise of
Averroes, dated May 1485, was written in Damascus.” According to these
dating, M.Taube proposes the hypothesis that Sharija left Kiev after the
Crimean Tatars raid in 1482. At that time practically all Kyiv Jews settled in
Crimea. In 1485 Sharija came to Damascus. This information is confirmed
by the manuscripts that were found by M.Taube. Most texts attributed to
Sharija allow us to consider him as the bearer of Jewish Provencal scientific
tradition. We believe Sharija was not a Provençal refugee. As this region
was abandoned by the bulk of Jews at the end of 14th century – beginning
of the 15th century, when the mass bashing took place, but Sharija’s activity
coincides with the end of 15th century. Nevertheless, part of the literature
14
15
Taube, “The Kievan Jew Zacharia”, 168–198.
16
Taube, “The Kievan Jew Zacharia”, 168–198.
that is associated with Shariia’s translation activity belonged to the

tradition of Moses Maimonides’ philosophy, who spoke against astrology
and equated it to idolatry. Maimonides dedicated the letter on this topic to
Marcel’s Jews. But Shariia’s interest in astrology states his propinquity to
Provencal tradition, so we assume that he could be a disciple of someone
from among Provencal immigrants, who lived at that time on the territory
of the former Byzantine Empire and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.
According to this information we can assume that Sharija is most
likely a Jewish scientist Zechariah Ben Aaron ha-Kohen, who came to Kyiv
around 1454. In Kyiv he was close to the court of Kievan Dukes, sons of
Olelko Volodymyrovyč. He was working as the translator during the so-
called peroid of “Olelkivskyj Renaissance”. At that time the restoration of
Kyiv started as the cultural and intellectual center. As I.Paslavskij mentions,
the main feature of Kiev scientists during the “Olelkivskyj Renaissance” was
the high level of education and love of philosophy, maths and astronomy,
which was not differentiated from astrology in the 15th century. We can find
the information about the existence of the Kyiv intellectual center with lots
of Jews in the 15th century private letter that is kept up to these days. The
author of this letter is Karaite Solomon ben Abraham, who was writing from
Kafa to his coreligionists in Kyiv in 1481: “For a long time had I known that
there are many people in your Kyiv communities, who devote themselves
to knowledge and sciences, among which are lots of occult sciences such as
magic and astrology.”17
In 1472 Sharija moved from Kiev to Novgorod, accompanying
Duke Mihajlo Olel‘kovič. There he approaches local intelectual elite. The
group of interested people gathered around his personality. Most of them
showed interest in Western European science, which, according to the
chronicler, “načaša učytysja volšebskim knyham, zvezdozakoniju i volhovanyju
upražnjaiuščesja”18 (begun to teach and practice magic books, astrology
and divination). Sharija’s circle of contacts extended due to two Novgorod
priests who were interested in his scientific knowledge. These were Denys
(Dionysius) and Oleksij who were also famous for thier intelectual abilities.
Most probably, Sharija’s communication with Novhorod priests was outlined
by the conversations about astronomical achievements of medieval Jews
(he was quite familiar with those as he translated their works into Old
Church Slavonic). Certainly, in the 15th century astronomy wasn’t separated
from astrology, therefore official church and science were condemning it.
Astronomy was under control of the Orthodox clergy. Joseph of Volokamsk
in his work The Enlightener says ”...basnoslovijem jakes i zvezdozakoniju
17
Titov, Ložnyie i otrečennye, 22.
18
učahu, i po zvezdah smotreti i stroity Rožen i žytije ljudske” (...by a lie and
astrology he teaches to watch the stars and to define the future of people’s
life on them). 19 Besides astrological knowledge and practices, we should
mention information about two alchemists who came from the Grand
Duchy of Lithuania to Tver. V. F. Ryan expresses same opinion. This story
is described in the document Piskarevskij letopisec (Piskarevskiy chronicler).
There we find information on two adventurers who spoke the Slavonic
language and claimed that they could create silver and gold. Moscow Tsar
Feodor Ioannovič invited them to his court to demonstrate their skills.
There they failed and eventually were tortured to death by pouring hot lead
in their throats.20
According to D. Sviatskij, Sharija’s translation of works Šestokryl,
Kosmografija, Aristotelevi Vrata contained information about alchemistry,
onomastic charts for divination and fortune-telling using names and were
one of the main books in his educational work in Novgorod.21 In adition,
D. Svjatskij mentiones that Šestokryl was Sharija’s main tool which helped
him to predict lunar and solar eclipses. A couple of successful predictions
persuaded curious Novgorod citizens to familiarize themselves with excellent
new book, brought by scholar from Kyiv. This book allegedly offered the
opportunity to learn astrology and predict the day and hour of lunar and
solar eclipse. Concluding from our chronicles, these heavenly signs have
always excited the curiosity of Novhorod citizens. The description of the
world’s first observation of the solar prominence without any equipment
during the solar eclipse on May 1, 1185 belongs exactly to Novhorod
chronicler.22
At that time Skarija’s name became the main example for
demonstration of a real “warlock” and “wizard”. His name appears even
in liturgical books which contained lunar charts. Thus, at the very end of
the 1536 prayer book we have “Paschalion with the moon whisperer” and the
page 286 states “Tipik Skare sije vedomo da jest, jako lunnyj kruh načynajet
ot 1 henuarja i deržyt 19 let” (from Sharija’s angle we know that the lunar
circle starts on 1 of Januarius and lasts for 19 years)23.
Sharija’s black magic lies in the fact that his translation of the
Šestokryl caused considerable confusion regarding the date of the world’s
creation. Since the Šestokryl represented the Jewish variant, astrologist
was immediately criticized by the Orthodox church. The reason was that
19
20
Ryan, The Bathhouse at Midnight, 301.
21
Svjatskij, Astronomija drevnej Rusi, 388.
22
Svjatskij, Astronomija drevnej Rusi, 389–390.
23
the Byzantine calendar was considered to be primary at that time. “The

difference between them is 1748 years and according to the chronology of
our ancestors the year of 6999 was only the end of the year 5251 according
to the Šestokryl, which significantly postponed the date of the world’s end”.24
We can consider a text of Bishop Gennadius “Ino to učat leta hristianskogo
letopysca skratišasja, a našy pribyvajut. A čto hotiat tu prelest javity, kako izojdet
naša pashalija” (The others teach that the years of Christian chronicler are
wrong. They want to demonstrate the coming of the Paschalion which is
not recorded by our chronicler) as an exemple of this.25 Sharija based his
objections concerning calendar incomformity on the data of the Shestokryl.
This provoked a huge dispute among Novgorod clergy.
Bishop Gennadius claims that, “I pro se čutka bula v ljudjah, ne tilky
v prostyh, ale i preimušč, pro se bahatom sumniv byst” (there were rumours
about this among country people which settled some doubts).26 Joseph of
Volokamsk in his work The Enlightener also mentions that
I v domeh i na puteh i na toržiščah inoci i mirstii i vsi somnjatsja i vsi o vere
pytajut” (in houses, and at roads, and at the markets of gentiles and sorcerers one
may be tortured for faith),27 “Prispe k koncu i sedmaja tysjašča let ot sotvorenija
vseho mira, erotycy že hlaholahu, jako sedm tysiašču let okončasja i pashalija
prejde, a vtoroho Hristova prišestvija nest” (The heretics say that by the end of
the seventh millennium from the creation of the world, then on the seventh
millennium Paschalion will come, but not the second coming of Christ).28
Through this piece we can trace the idea of the end of the world due to
chronicle heritage of Byzantine astronomic trasition. Sharija’s ideas caught
the interest of educated people who realised the absurd of such astronomic
speculations. The reason was that the wizard presented the possible
variant of postponing the end of the world. Probably, Sharija came back
from Novhorod to Kyiv together with Duke Mihajlo Olel’kovič. They were
staying in Novgorod only for four months. After some time Sharija went to
Crimea.
Sharija’s literary heritage, his translations of astronomic and Natural
philosophy works in Kyiv gave a new start to the development of philosophic
and esoteric thought on the territory of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. For
example, Duke Kurbskij built his political concept referring to the content
of Aristotelevi Vrata. All the translations which were made in Kyiv under
Sharija’s supervision were in the list of “apocryphical books.”
24
25
26
27
28
Hermes Trismegist in the cultural intellectual

environment of Orthodox Slavs
The knowledge on the persona of Hermes Trismegist in the culture of
Eastern and Southern Slavs is based on limited written sources. Among
scholars who were engaged in researching the ideas of hermeticism in
medieval and early modern texts of Eastern Slavs, we should mention I.
Franko, who published the story “On Hermes” from “Krehivska Palaea”
(XVI century), V. Tytov and his fragment from an anonymous astrological
manuscript (XVII century) under the name “Hermes’ days”.
The emergence of the first texts about Hermes Trismegist in the
cultural environment Slavia Orthodoxa occurred in the XV-XVI centuries.
Nemanja Radulović shared with us the only text from Serbian literature,
namely the work of Constantine the Philosopher Žitije despota Stefana
Lazarevića (The Life of Despot Stephen Lazarević). In the Serbian version
we find only few quotations that are attributed to Hermes Trismegist, in
particular:
I charge thee sky, the creation of great God, I charge thee with the voice of our
Father who sent the news before He established the entire world, I charge you in
the only begotten His Word and Spirit.29
The text “Krehivska Palaea”, in contrast, offers a separate and fairly complete
chapter about the life of “Hermes Trismegistus”. It describes Hermes’
origins, his father’s story, and tells about the obtaining of secret alchemical
knowledge and his life in Egypt. It also emphasizes that Hermes had a clear
understanding of the Divine Trinity’s nature and existence.
We also should note that the Serbian text is similar to the apocryphal
work On Hellenic Sages. The majority of religious literature of the 15–16th
centuries in the cultural environment among Orthodox Slavs was under
the influence of hesychasm and apophaticism. This point was embodied by
irrationality in arguments and dogmatism in assertions. Also the Christian
point of view of the 5th and 6th centuries (in the guise of negative theology)
claimed that it is more correctly to describe God using deniable definitions,
and that our language is not developed enough to use it for describing the
divine essence.
We can find similar statements in Slavic texts about Hermes. Hermes
expresses his opinion on the nature of God using an apophatic style that
is fully consistent with the intellectual atmosphere among the Orthodox
29
Konstanrin Filosof, Život Stefana Lazarevića, despota srpskoga tr. by Gordana
Jovanović [The Life of Stefan Lazarević, Serbian Despot] (Beograd: Izdavački fond SPC,
2009), 19.
Slavs. So the scribes were able to adjust the figure of the esoteric learning
founder in Hellenistic period under their needs concerning the nature of
the Holy Trinity being. The ideas expressed on behalf of Hermes in Slavic
manuscripts do not generally refute the key principles of hermetism
regarding the existence of an infinite quantity of different meanings that
contradict each other; the more confusing words and the more complicated
one can express the symbols and interpret them, the better they fit for
expressing the ideas of the Absolute.
The formation of the discourse around written mentions of Hermes
Trismegist may begin with the fragment of the text originating from
“Krehivska Palaea” that describes “Hermes Trismegistus” as native Italian,
who lived at the time of Alexander of Macedon’s conquests (information
according to V. Tytov, based on the context derived from the text of Palaea).
After the death of his father and due to the family problems with his
brothers, at the age of 45 he moved to Egypt, where he gained the fame of
the sage and sorcerer who predicted the future. Moreover, in one of the
fragments it is mentioned, that Hermes had an ability to create gold. This
extract may indicate a certain alchemical knowledge he had. It is also worth
noting, that in text of “Krehivska Palaea” Hermes was associated with the
deity Asclepius in Egypt.
In addition to life story and description of deeds conducted by Hermes
Trismegist, the analyzed text provides us with his judgments of the Divine
Trinity. The central idea of his assertion is the conception that the light of
divine wisdom is primary to the light of the mind. This entire quotation is
built in an apophatic style where the speaker claims the impossibility of
the divine essence cognition by using mind only, and everything that was
already said about God will not clarify his nature.
The second fragment, where we can find references on Hermes
Trismegist, is the apocryphal text called On Hellenic Sages. It contains a
quotation of Hermes Trismegist and a brief history note, where there is a
note on his alchemical knowledge, too. Such information was presented in
Orthodox scribes using a language they understood, i.e. without alchemical
terminology, since we are not aware of alchemical texts existence or any
references to them in the 15th and 16th centuries in Eastern Slavic culture.
As it is stated in the text, Hermes lived before the time of Abraham during
the language division, and in his kingdom he commanded that one man
should have one wife only and not several of them, as it was previously.
As a reward, the Lord sent him the iron pincers, so that he could forge
the weapon against his enemies. This is the second time when Hermes is
associated with blacksmithing in early modern East Slavic manuscripts.
It is noteworthy that we are also aware of one proto-alchemical

fragment that can be found in the collection of the natural-philosophical
text Aristotle Gate (16th century). We believe that the lack of alchemical texts
transformed the information about Hermes Trismegist (as a discoverer of
simple metals alchemical transmutations) and gave a new shape to a true
story, where he was a skillful blacksmith, who could work with gold, and
these facts drew him to the jewelry master.
According to I. Franko, the author of the On Hellenic Sages manuscript
used the information about Hermes Trismegist from Krekhivska Palaea. We
consider such opinion to be not entirely correct, and more likely the sources
of the information used in these texts were different. We suppose it was a
text called Chronograph which was written in 1512.
The story of Hermes in palaea differs from the information presented
in the text about Hellenic sages, but the same fragment can still be found
in both manuscripts, which, by the way, were also mentioned in the Serbian
work The Life of Despot Stephen Lazarević. It only indicates that the author
could read both works: “Krekhivska Palaea” and “On Hellenic Sages”.
The third note on Hermes in early modern East Slavic manuscript
heritage is the anonymous astrological fragment of a 17th-century treatise,
which describes the division of the Aphrodite weeks and Hermes days. V.
Tytov notes that the doctrine of Hermes Trismegist on the divine nature
of the day, or rather three parts of divine nature of the day and time in
general, was formed in Hellenistic Egypt, namely in Alexandria in the
1st century BC. Here we should note that for ancient Romans the Julian
calendar had a divine nature and was called Natura dei. This calendar used
such indications as: F – auspicious days, N – unfavorable days, C – neutral
days. In Slavic astrological manuscripts these days were marked as: “good”,
“evil” and “medium”.
In our opinion, this is a fairly typical division of days on “good” and
“evil” ones for ancient Slavic literature. This astrological peculiarity in
Slavic manuscripts is described in the research of V. Tytov. In particular,
one of the texts that has a name: “A ot zimnjaho na letnij voshod to lunym
kruhom mesiacy Hermysovy dny” (“From winter to summer solstice Hermes’
days marked by the lunar circle”).
Today there are several manuscripts from the 15th to the 17th
century that describe the division of months and weeks on “auspicious”
and “unfavorable” days. But only few of them had notes containing some
mentions on “Hermes days” as unfavorable ones. The beginning of time is
counted by using “hermes” lunar days and usually started from the winter
solstice and went on till the spring equinox, which was indicated in the
Slavic manuscript. There is another 17th century text which contains the
reference to Hermes Trismegist “Hermes Trismegist and Pythagoras” from

the Krehiv manuscript.
The figure of Hermes Trismegist is mentioned in the dialogue between
the priest Eugene and Julian the Apostate. In arguments that Julian the
Apostate uses, Hermes Trismegist appears as an alternative to Jesus Christ.
Pointing out that Jesus was born twice – as a human first and then as a
God. And Hermes was born three times in this story. Also there are other
arguments appearing in the text that indicate the divine origin of Hermes
and his connection with the Asclepius treatment.
Eugene answers that there is no credible information on Hermes’
existence as well as on his divinity. He also points out that Hermes Trismegist
did not resurrect any single person, although he could cure them.
The above-mentioned fragments usher East Slavic texts about
Hermes Trismegist into general hermetic discourse. All these texts were
fragmented and did not affect the formation of esoteric knowledge inherent
to hermeticism in the early modern age in the Slavia Orthodoxa cultural
environment. Due to a large number of Greek literature pieces received
during the mentioned period, it can be assumed that these were translations
from Greek manuscripts. The text The Book of Peter the Egyptian... – a
free translation from Ancient Greek – has its place in the Aristotle Gates
collection. We should also note the fact that the old Slavic text is attributed
to Peter the Egyptian, a person not of Slavic origin. In any case, even if
the pseudoepigraph is taking place here (which was possible in the old
Slavic literature), the overlook of author hardly peaks for his Slavic origin,
otherwise there would be no point in referring to it as “Egyptian”. Also
Egypt in the Orthodox Slavic environment was associated with the land of
all mysterious knowledge and its origins. Slavic manuscripts associate this
country with the life of Hermes Trismegistus.30 It is also proven by a separate
quotation from Paterykon by Sylvester Kosov, namely a reference to the
Egyptian monarch, who said “Egypt is our heaven”.31 According to Ukrainian
historian N. Sinkevyč, this monarch might be Hermes Trismegistus himself,
and the phrase quoted by Kosov is taken from “Asclepius”.32
The mystery of Egypt in early modern Slavic manuscripts as a place
where the occult and esoteric (secret, special) knowledge came from, shows
that Orthodox scribes were partially familiar with this type of information
and could identify this specific knowledge and include it into “disavowed
30
V. Ščepanskyi. “Hermes Trismegistus cultural and religious space Slavia Orthodoxa:
written tradition” (in Ukrainian), Analytical and informational magazine East (2015): 100–104.
31
N. Sinkevyč. “Paterykon” Sylvester Kosovo: translation and study of monuments, (in
Ukrainian) (Kyiv: Phoenix, 2013), 261.
32
N.Sinkevyč. “Paterykon” Sylvester Kosovo, 47.
literature”. This confirms our thesis about the existence of esoteric discourse
in Orthodox Slavs’ cultural environment. At least in a fragmentary written
heritage.
In addition, we are also aware of a Hermes Trismegist iconography
presented in Orthodox churches. This type of icons is called theological and
didactic. We only know about four churches where iconography of Hermes
was presented. Three of them are located in Russia and one is in Romania.
The only well-preserved image remains on the royal gate on the territory of
Hypatian Monastery from the 16th and 17th centuries (Russia). The others
are in a very poor condition.
From the information noted here we can conclude that these texts were
fragmentary and did not affect the formation of esoteric knowledge inherent
for hermetism in early modern cultural environment of the Orthodox Slavs.
The reception of a large number of Greek works during this period suggests
that these texts were translations from Greek manuscripts. For example, the
text Egyptian Book of Peter the Egyptian... was a free translation from Greek
and took its place in a collection of Aristotle gates, claimed to be written by
Sharija Skara. The same could be stated about the texts that tell of Hermes
Trismegistus and his stay in Egypt. Notes on Egypt, said to be a place from
which occult and esoteric (secret, special) knowledge comes, in the Old
Slavic manuscripts indicates that Orthodox scribes were partially familiar
with this type of information and could identify the knowledge and refer it
to “disavowed literature.” This confirms our thesis about the existence of
esoteric discourse in the cultural environment of Orthodox Slavs, despite
being a fragmental heritage.
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pervoistočniki ХV–ХVIII vv. s primečanijami, kommentarijami i častičnym
perevodom. Moscow: Gosudarstvennaja publičnaja istoričeskaja biblioteka
Rossiji, 1999.
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929:61 Paracelsus
133.5:159.9
159.9.01
Jiří Michalík*
Palacky University, Olomouc
The initial reception of Paracelsus in

Czech Alchemy
Introduction
During the 16th century, the Lands of the Bohemian Crown were among the
culturally rich and politically liberal European countries. It was during the
long period of the peace which followed the 15th century Hussite revolution.
The social and cultural status quo evolved from this revolution, which
featured previously unknown religious and cultural plurality.
Paracelsus, (1463–1541), who was a lifelong dissident, tried to utilize
this broader tolerance. He come to Moravia in the closing years of his life,
namely between 1536 and 1537, and tried to establish himself as a physician
in the service of the Moravian aristocracy. However, this effort was not at all
successful and he had to leave for Hungary. Nevertheless, during his stay in
Moravia, he managed to write one of his most important works: Astronomia
magna. This book is important even in the present context because it played
a decisive role in the reception of his thinking in Bohemia, which began
approximately thirty years after he had finished it.
* Jiri.michalik@seznam.cz

This study is the result of research funded by the Czech Science Foundation under
the project name GA ČR 14-37038G “Between Renaissance and Baroque: Philosophy and
Knowledge in the Czech Lands within the Wider European Context”. I would like to thank
the staff of the Bizzell Memorial Library, History of Science Collections, the University of
Oklahoma and the Bibliotheca Hermetica in Amsterdam for their help in my research.

The up to date studies considering the history of Paracelsianism in the lands of the
Bohemian crown see Jiří Michalík, “Wenceslaus Lavinius of Ottenfeld (1550–May 1602) and
his Earthly Heaven,” in Tomáš Nejeschleba and Jiří Michalík, eds., Latin Alchemical Literature
of Czech Provenance (Olomouc: Vydavatelství Univerzity Palackého, 2015), 164–164; Wilhelm
Kühlmann and Joachim Telle, Corpus Paracelsisticum. Frühparacelsismus vols. I–III.2 (Berlin
and Boston: De Gruyter, 2001–2013); Ivo Purš and Vladimír Karpenko, Alchymie a Rudolf II:
Hledání tajemství přírody ve střední Evropě v 16. a 17. století [Ivo Purš and Vladimír Karpenko,
Alchemy and Rudolf II] (Prague: Artefactum, 2011); (The english edition of this representative
46 Jiří Michalík
This paper is going to focus on evaluating the very beginnings of the

reception of Paracelsus’ works in Bohemia. The reception, which started
in the 1560s, can be traced through two related domains which run in
parallel to Paracelsus’ two main fields of study. The first was medicine,
or in the broader sense those disciplines which are nowadays labelled as
natural sciences, such as astronomy, physics, etc. The second discipline in
which Paracelsus’ works circulated in Bohemia was alchemy. I am going to
study only the second domain, which is represented by two major persons,
namely by Bavor Rodovský z Hustiřan, and Laurentius Špán a Špánow. The
main protagonist of the first domain was Thaddaeus Hageccius ab Hayk
(Thaddaeus Nemicus, 1525–1600), who is relatively well known.
1. Bavor Rodovský of Hustiřan

The decisive element of the reception of Paracelsianism in the Czech lands
was the discipline of medicinal alchemy, represented by two individuals.
Undoubtedly, the most widely known of the two alchemists, who spread
the Paracelsian teaching in the 16th century Bohemia, was Bavor Rodovský
the Younger from Hustiřany (1526–1591). In his time, Bavor was a
famous alchemist and the first translator of Paracelsian writings into the
book is in progress. Unfortunatelly not in a print-ready version, so I have to work only with
Czech mutation). Vladimír Karpenko, Alchymie. Nauka mezi snem a skutečností [Vladimír
Karpenko, Alchemy. The Art between dream and reality (Prague: Academia, 2007] (Prague:
Academia, 2007), 251–253. [Vladimír Karpenko, Alchemy. The Art between dream and reality
(Prague: Academia, 2007]

For Hagecius see: Ivo Purš, “Tadeáš Hájek z Hájku a jeho alchymický okruh“[Tadeáš
Hájek of Hájek and his Alchemical Circle] in Alchymie a Rudolf II., eds. Ivo Purš and Vladimír
Karpenko, 423–459; Josef Smolka, “Thaddaeus Hagecius ab Hayck, Aulae Cesareae Maiestatis
Medicus,” in Discourses – Diskurze: essays for – Beiträge zu Mikuláš Teich & Alice Teichova,
eds. Gertrude Enderle-Burcel et al. (Prague and Vienna: Nová tiskárna Pelhřimov: Charles
University in Prague, 2008), 395–412; Pavel Drábek, ed., Tadeáš Hájek z Hájku [Tadeáš
Hájek of Hájek], in Vol. 1 of Práce z dějin techniky a přírodních věd (Prague: Společnost pro
dějiny věd a techniky, 2000); Zdeněk Horský and Emma Urbánková, Tadeáš Hájek z Hájku a
jeho doba [Tadeáš Hájek of Hájek and His Time] (Prague: Státní knihovna ČSR, 1975); Quido
Vetter, “Tadeáš Hájek z Hájku” [Tadeáš Hájek of Hájek] Říše hvězd 6 (1925): 169–185.

More about him: Vladimír Karpenko, Alchymie: svět pohádek a legend [Vladimír
Karpenko, Alchemy: The Realm of Fairy-tales and legends] (Prague: Academia 2008), 242–
244; Vladimír Kuncitr, “Alchymie v Českých zemích”, in Opus magnum. Kniha o sakrální
geometrii, alchymii, magii, astrologii, kabale a tajných společnostech v Českých zemích, ed.
Vlastislav Zadrobílek, (Prague: Trigon, 1997), 60–62. The book contains on pages 260–328
the English translation of the papers: Vladimír Kuncitr, “Alchemy in the Czech Lands (A
Short Outline),” in Magnum opus. The Book of Sacred Geometry, Alchemy, Magic, Astrology, the
Kabbala, and Secret Societies in Bohemia, ed. Vlastislav Zadrobílek, (Prague: Trigon, 1997),
276–279, here p. 279. D. Ž. Bor (aka Vlastislav Zadrobílek), “Bernhard Trevisanus, jeho
následovníci a Bavor Rodovský z Hustiřan” [Bernhrad Trevisanus and His Followers and
The Initial Reception of Paracelsus in Czech Alchemy 47
vernacular. Bavor, who came from an impoverished noble family, could not
afford to pay for his university studies, and thus was self-taught. After his
alchemistic experimentations ruined him (having exhausted even his wife’s
dowry), he entered the service of the Czech magnates William of Rosenberg
and Jan Zbynek Zajic of Házmburk.
He translated the classical works of alchemical and hermetic tradition
into the Czech language, i.e. Tabula Smaragdina, Rosarium philosophorum and
Turba philosophorum. He was also interested in astronomy and gastronomy:
he is the author of the first Czech cookbook, and he also gave a description
and an explanation of his observation of a 1572 supernova.
Sir Rodovský was a typical alchemist. His passion cost him his fortune
and the love of his wife, who left him because of his laboratory passion.
In 1573, he was thrown in jail at Prague Castle because of his debts. In
a letter from the 6th of February 1573, which he sent to his patron and
sponser, Vilém z Rožmberka (William of Rosenberg, 1535–1592), Rodovský
desperately asked for buying him out. In this occasion, he promised to
William to translate some writings of Paracelsus and of German Paracelsian
Leonhardt Thurneysser (1531–1595/6) into the vernacular.
Bavor Rodovský begins his letter with a typical Renaissance ode to
human dignity. Man is the only creature to whom God has fully revealed his
wisdom. But this wisdom is of such a nature that only certain exceptional
people can become acquainted with it. These exceptional people were mainly
sages of yore, for example, Moses and other biblical patriarchs. In addition
to these personalities, Rodovský cited Paracelsus, whom he regarded as
the most excellent philosopher, above all others, regarding the knowledge
of God’s wisdom. According to Rodovský, Paracelsus had been sent to the
people of earth by God in order to unveil parts of God’s perfect wisdom
in his books. Rodovský emphasized Paracelsus’ philosophical greatness by
referring to the fact that God most clearly revealed his wisdom to Moses, to
whom Paracelsus’ wisdom was the closest out of all the philosophers.
Paracelsus’ excellence presented reason enough for Sir Rodovský to
translate his writings. He wanted the texts of this eminent man to be at
the disposal of those Czechs who did not speak foreign languages. At the
same time, however, this also highlights another feature of his translation,
regarding his apologetic contribution to contemporary discussions about
Bavor Rodovský of Hustiřany] in Zázračná studánka hraběte Bernharda z Marku a Tarvis, ed.
D. Ž. Bor (Prague: Trigon, 2002), 7–24, here esp. pp. 13–21.

Similar to Thaddaeus Hagecius or Tycho Brahe.

The letter is deposited in the archive of Rosenberg magnates in Třeboň. (SOA
Třeboň, Cizí rody II, z Rožmberka 25); Bavor Rodovský z Hustiřan, “Dopis panu Vilémovi z
Rožmberka,” [A Letter to Sir William of Rosenberg] in Otakar Zachar, O alchymii a českých
alchymistech [On Alchemy and Czech Alchemists ](Prague 1911), 193–194.
48 Jiří Michalík
Paracelsus and his work, which many critics of Paracelsus ignored or

accused him of incomprehensibility. However, this incomprehensibility,
according to Rodovský, was only an expression of “philosophical freedom”
and primarily had the purpose of concealing the “indecently naked body
of beautiful Diana.” In other words, just such incomprehensibility in
Paracelsus’ language was used for the preservation and communication of
divine wisdom, only accessable to insiders.
This case obviously referred to the traditional theme of encrypted
communications of secrets, which was so popular in contemporary alchemy.
In the Czech context, this was already expressed in the manuscript called
Czech Alchemy, which was probably composed in the early 16th century.
Emphasis is partly placed on the confidentiality of the alchemy adept, that
they should practise their art in secret. According to the author of Czech
Alchemy, the best way to do this was to establish a laboratory in the remote
rooms of the house, where nobody went.
This classic idea concerning the secrecy and concealment of alchemy
adepts became very interesting for Sir Rodovský, and I must say that
even with a somewhat sincere argument. If it were so that, according to
Rodovský’s opinion, nature was secret (secreta et arcana naturae), which was
explored by sciences such as astronomy, astrology, philosophy or magic,
accessible to all people, those with a lack of education would thus probably
never understand at all. If even such people understood, then philosophers
and physicians would become completely unnecessary, because everyone
would be able to achieve perfect knowledge by themselves. According to
Rodovský, Paracelsus was aware of this fact, and the darkness of his language
suggests that he decided to “not throw pearls before swine.” However, this
was probably not understood by Paracelsus’ critics because, in the words
of Rodovský, they were not afraid to offend not only Paracelsus’ books, but
also the author himself, who they called a drunkard and vagabond, ignorant
of philosophy.
It can also be seen in Rodovský’s letter to William von Rosenberg that
its author was very well aware of Paracelesus’ works. Many of Paraclesus’
books were listed, and in addition, he included a brief summary or at least
pinpointed the basic ideas or contributions in each. Among Paracelesus’
philosophical works, which Rodovský summarized, the previously mentioned
work Astronomia magna or Philosophiae Magnae ... collectanea is included,

The original is in the Library of the Czech National Museum in Prague: sign. I G 22;
cf. Zachar, O alchymii a českých alchymistech, 110.

Bavor Rodovský z Hustiřan, “Dopis panu Vilémovi z Rožmberka”, in Zachar, O
alchymii, 176–181.

The book was published in the year of 1569 by well-known Paracelsian Gerhard
Dorn (1530–1584). It was published in Basel in the publishing house of Petrus Perna.
for example. But, he was also familiar with other famous works such as the
Opus paramirum, Opus Paragranum, Archidoxies, and Chirurgia magna.10
For each work mentioned from Paracelsus, Rodovský emphasized the
typical Paracelsian ideas which, in his opinion, were developed in the work;
thus, for example in the Opus paramirum, the Paracelsian theory of tria
prima, that being sulphur, mercury, and salt as the three basic metaphysical
elements of which the world is composed. The key metaphor in the Opus
paragranum, according to Rodovský, is that of the four pillars of wisdom
(or, rather, medicine), in which belong philosophy, astronomy, alchemy, and
virtue (proprietas).11 This idea is undoubtedly connected with the idea of the
universal analogy, which is a prerequisite for the concept of an analogy
between man-microcosm and macrocosm-world. Because man is composed
of the same elements as the world, it is thus possible to vindicate even the
reciprocal interaction and influence between man and the world.12
Out of all of Paracelesus’ works, Rodovský was most interested in
his Archidoxa. This can be inferred due to the fact that he dedicated the
greatest attention to characteristics of this work in his letter to William
von Rosenberg. The text of Archidoxa, which Rodovský had undoubtedly
taken as law because it is among the most important writings of Paracelsus,
was first published in Latin, in the year 1570, in Munich. Rodovský
emphasized that in this book, Paracelsus presents the concept of man as a
microcosm, his theory of phenomena which visibly and invisibly permeates
all things, or Paracelsus’ concept of quintessence, and also his method
of experimentational results. Paracelsus’ Archidoxa is also beneficial in
that in it one can find an explanation of Paracelsus’ arcana. And, last but
not least, it contains a short but clear instruction on how to formulate
the “lapis philosophorum” and the “tincture physicorum”, as well as their
descriptions.13
According to Sir Rodovský, Paracelsus’ Chirurgia magna, on the
contrary, contains instructions for treating various diseases, such as
syphilis, St Anthony’s disease, and other contemporary illnesses.
In his letter to William von Rosenberg, Rodovský from Hustiřany then
turns his attention to Paracelsian and pseudo-Paracelsian books referring
to natural magic, i.e. the works Metamorphosi, De spiritibus planetarum, De
signis zodiaci et mysteriis eorum, and De occulta philosophia. In these books,
according to Rodovský, Paracelsus’ concept of transmutational alchemy
10
Bavor Rodovský z Hustiřan, “Dopis panu Vilémovi z Rožmberka”, 182.
11
Virtue (proprietas) is probably identical with faith. It consists of an idea, that human
being should act in accoradance with the will of God. Cf. Andrew Weeks, ed., Paracelsus.
Essential Theoretical Writings (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 259.
12
Weeks (ed.), Paracelsus. Essential Theoretical Writings, 187.
13
Bavor Rodovský z Hustiřan, “Dopis panu Vilémovi z Rožmberka”, 182–183.
50 Jiří Michalík
can be found, as well as its connection with astrology. Pseudoparacelsus

(Rodovský, however, undoubtedly considered this book to be an authentic
document) is mentioned also in description of the pseudo-Paracelsian
book De occulta philosophia, which was undoubtedly influenced by the
eponymous treatise of Cornelius Agrippa von Nettesheim, and, according
to Rodovský, is dedicated to the manufacture and use of different kinds of
magical amulets.14
At the end of his long sidetrack about Paracelsus, Bavor Rodovský
from Hustiřany again felt the need to defend the controversial personality
of Paracelsus. He posits that Paracelsus was certainly neither a necromancer
nor a magician, but God’s chosen medium and a philosopher who has no
equal in modern times. This, according to Rodovský, is evident by the fact
that all the books written by Theofrastus, namely 53 books on medicine and
275 books on philosophy, were approved of by leading European scholars as
unopposing to Christian doctrine and containing the truth. Paracelsus left
the world his many good works and certainly will not be forgotten.15
It is obvious that Rodovský got the number of Paracelsus’ publications
slightly wrong, which indeed itself casts a dubious light on his supporter, as
his list of Paracelsus’ works, which he either studied or knew from excerpts,
is only fragmentary in comparison with the quantity of Paracelsus’ works,
which he presents. Conversely, from today’s point of view, the amount of
Paracelsus’ excerpted writings appears to be respectable. This illustrates
Rodovský’s broad range of research and his great erudition. Especially notable
is the fact that Rodovský had been able to acquire the books in question in
a relatively short time after printing Paracelsus’ works. It is also possible
that he knew some manuscripts, whether authentic or pseudoepigraphic, at
a time of burgeoning Paracelsian fashion, kickstarted by the publications
beginning to circulate widely throughout Central Europe.
At the end of his letter, Bavor Rodovský of Hustiřany asks William
von Rosenberg to help him make his stay in prison more pleasant, through
financial assistance to help him acquire more resources to ease his scientific
work and for the translation of Paracelsus’ works. Apparently, Rodovský
had heard that William of Rosenberg dealt in the study of philosophical,
mathematical, and magical arts, and therefore could be interested in his
translation work.16
14
15
16
Bavor Rodovský z Hustiřan, Dopis panu Vilémovi z Rožmberka, 193.
The strategy, which consisted of an effort to arouse the curiosity of

one of the most generous benefactors of alchemy in his country,17 soon
proved to be successful. William von Rosenberg apparently negotiated
Rodovský’s release and paid his debts. Rodovský then entered into his
service, and “repaid” him with the book Secreta Aristotelis, which he had
written in prison. This book is a summary of advice to leaders on how to
properly, and fairly govern.
Regarding Rodovský’s promise concerning his translation of
Paracelsus’ works, he kept his promise only partially. He wrote the
manuscript The Book of the Perfect Chemical Art, which was finished in
the mid-1580s. In fact, this manuscript is an anthology of Rodovský ’s
translations of major alchemical texts. It also contains the treatise with
the title Secrets of Theophrastus Paracelsus, which is in fact the compilation
of some Paracelsian ideas. Unfortunately, Rodovský’s book remained only
in manuscript form, because if it had been printed, the broader Bohemian
scientific public would have become more familiar with Paracelsian ideas.
While not being printed, Rodovský’s manuscript had an interesting
fate. Sir Rodovský, constantly in debt, sold his manuscript to an unknown
Prague physician four years after he had finished it. Thereafter, it
disappeared and re-emerged in the Netherlands city of Leyden. The Leyden
University library purchased the manuscript from the inheritance of Isaac
Voss (1618–1689), who was a famous antiquarian and collector of old
manuscripts. Rodovský’s manuscript was rediscovered at the beginning of
the 20th century by Otakar Zachar, who was the owner of the family brewery
in the village of Kročehlavy, located in central Bohemia, near Prague. Zachar
was a prominent expert in brewery, who edited two prestigious magazines
dedicated to the art of brewery. He was also a passionate student of an
old Czech alchemy, and while traveling through Europe to make the new
business contracts, he also sought out old Czech alchemical manuscripts.18
He published a short study about his discovery of Rodovský’s manuscript
under the title “Alchemist Bavor Rodovský of Hustiřan and his manuscript,
now in Leyden” in Prague, in 1902. He also published some interesting
17
Willam’s patronage: Petr Vágner, “Dny všední a sváteční rožmberských alchymistů”
[Ordinary and Feast-days of Rosenberg´s Alchemists] in Život na dvoře a v rezidenčních
městech posledních Rožmberků, vol. 3. of Opera historica, ed. Václav Bůžek (České Budějovice:
Pedagogická fakulta JU, 1993), 269 ff; Ivo Purš and Vladimír Karpenko, “Alchymie na
šlechtických dvorech v českých zemích“[Alchemy at the Aristocratic Courts of the Lands
of Bohemian Crown], in Alchymie a Rudolf II., eds. Purš and Karpenko, 47–91; Robert J. W.
Evans, Rudolf II. a jeho svět [Rudolf II and his World] (Prague: Mladá fronta, 1997), 261–273.
18
D. Ž. Bor, “Bernhard Trevisanus, jeho následovníci a Bavor Rodovský z Hustiřan”,
19–20.
52 Jiří Michalík
fragments from Rodovský’s book in his work “On alchemy and Czech
alchemists”, in Prague, in 1911.
2. Laurentius Špán of Spanov

A second possible candidate in the role of propagating Paracelsianism in
Bohemia is the less famous Czech alchemist, Lawrence Špán of Spanov
(Laurentius Špán, 1530/1–1575). 19 Špán, who came from the West
Bohemian town of Žatec, studied at the Lutheran University of Leucorea in
Wittenberg. There, he was strongly influenced by Melanchthon’s promotion
of protestant humanism. Subsequently, he completed his studies with
the submission of his doctoral examination, probably in Vienna. In the
early 1560s, he practised medicine in Prague with the aim that he might
be subsequently moved to the Episcopal service, in which he worked in
Olomouc and Wroclaw. At the end of the 1660s, he left for Görliz, and from
there shortly before his death returned to his native Žatec. Špán, who was a
doctor, astrologer, alchemist, poet and editor, was the author of more than
30 works.
Unlike Rodovský, Špán was probably of an ethnic German burgher
origin, who was already at a relatively young age raised among the nobility.
Besides his stay in Moravia, which is still part of the Czech Republic today,
he worked and wrote his work in the so-called Crowned lands, that is, the
historical territories that belonged to Bohemia in the 16th century: Silesia
(now divided between the Czech Republic and Poland) and in Upper Lusatia
(divided between Poland and Germany). Špán’s geographic orientation was
quite logical, as it reflected the German Lutheran environment which was
closest to him.
Doubtless because of that, he was even originally educated as a
Lutheran theologian. However, he was also a physician and an alchemist.
As suggested in his literary works, it is possible to describe Špán as a typical
humanistic scholar, who often expressed his thoughts in verse. There
have been thus far 33 of his works discovered, many of which exist only in
one copy. The writings, which he wrote in the 1550s, before his arrival in
Prague in the year 1560, where he worked as a doctor, mostly concerned
theological issues such as the interpretation of the Gospel. In Prague, Špán
befriended the Italian doctor Pietro A. Mattioli (1501–1577), who was the
physican of the Habsburg emperors Ferdinand II and Maxmillian II. Span
19
For more about Span see: Kühlmannn and Telle, Corpus Paracelsisticum. Der
Frühparacelsismus, Bd. II, 562–563; Eduard Wondrák, “Der Artzt und Dichter Laurentius
Span (1530–1575),” Medizinhistorisches Journal 18/3 (1983): 238–249.
was also author of the famous Herbarium,20 which was translated into Czech
by Thaddaeus Hagecius (1525–1600). He was also a friend of the physician
of Emperor Ferdinand I, Andreas Gall, who came from Trident and died
soon after (before the year 1565).21
In Prague, in the year 1560, Špán published his book De Homine,
which he later revised, expanded, and reissued in the year 1566, in the
Silesian city of Nyssa under the title of De aetatibus hominum iuxta ordinem
planetarum liber.22 In these books, his rooting in Galenic medicine, as well
as his beliefs about the close connection between medicine and astrology,
are evident.
In the 1560s, Špán moved between Moravia and Silesia (which at that
time were part of the Czech state). He was a successful physician in the city
Olomouc, and in the year 1566 Protestant Špán became a physician to the
Catholic bishop of Olomouc, William Prusinovský of Víckov (1534–1572), who
five years later founded a Jesuit University in Olomouc, which would later be
one of the centres of the Catholic Reformation. In Olomouc, Špán published
two of his books on plagues, in German and Latin versions. He mentions,
among other things, medicines based on internally applied antimony, which is
a treatment that was recommended even by Paracelsus. But he, among others,
warned against excessively large doses of toxic substances.
In this context, it is interesting that these iatrochemic medications were
recommended even by Špán’s Prague aquaintences, Pietro A. Mattioli and
Andreas Gallus. This was testified to by the Oxford physician Robert Burton
(1577–1640) in his famous book The Anatomy of Melancholy, which he first
published under the pseudonym “Democritus junior” in Oxford, in 1628. In
it, he mentions Mattioli, Gallus, and another Prague doctor, Georg Handsch
(1529–1578 ) 23, as decisive supporters of the oral use of antimony. 24
20
It had been published in Venice under the title Di Pedacio Dioscoride Anazarbeo Libri
cinque Della historia, et materia medicinale tradotti in lingua volgare italiana da M. Pietro Andrea
Matthiolo Sanese Medico, con amplissimi discorsi, et comenti, et dottissime annotationi, et censure
del medesimo interprete (Venice: Nicolo de Bascarini, 1544). The Latin translation was published
in Venice ten years after. The title was Petri Andreae Matthioli Medici Senensis Commentarii, in
Libros sex Pedacii Dioscoridis Anazarbei, de Materia Medica, Adjectis quàm plurimis plantarum &
animalium imaginibus, eodem authore, also known as Commentarii (Venice: Vincente Valgrisi,
1554). The translations into the French (Lyon 1561), Czech by Thaddaeus Hagecius (Prague
1562) and German by Georg Handsch (Prague 1563) followed.
21
For more biographical data see: Kühlmann and Telle, Corpus Paracelsisticum II,
562–563 and Wondrák, Der Artzt und Dichter Laurentius Span (1530–1575), 238 ff.
22
The book was published in Nyssa in the year of 1566.
23
Handsch was the physician of the archiduke Ferdinand II. He translated Mattioli´s
Herbal book into German. The translation was issued in Prague in 1563.
24
Ivo Purš and Josef Smolka, “Martin Ruland starší a mladší a prostředí císařských
lékařů,” [Martin Ruland the Elder, Martin Ruland the Younger nad the Milieu of Emperor´s
personal Doctors] in Alchymie a Rudolf II., eds. Purš and Karpenko, 588–589.
54 Jiří Michalík
According to Špán’s own testimony, it is clear that he used Galenic

medical practices in his Prague and Olomouc medicical employments, so he
did not meet with some special chymiatric or spagyric drugs, or in some cases
procedures drawn from authentic pieces of Paracelsus’ work, until the mid-
1560s from his residence in Silesia. Špán notes this fact in the preface to the
Paracelsian De urinarum et pulsum iudiciis (Opinions concerning urine and
pulse), which was published in the Silesian city of Nyssa, in the year 1566.25
Here, in the dedication to one of the most powerful Moravian aristocrats,
Vratislav of Pernstein, Špán says that during his stay in Silesian Nyssa he
formed a friendship with Marco Ambrosio, a man very well-travelled and
experienced. During many of the conversations with his friend, he was
informed about Paracelsus, who was at his time the most important scholar
and expert in medicine, who had managed to cure diseases very difficult to
treat. Špán states here that the aforementioned Marek introduced him to
the Paracelsian art of spagyric medicine, and also gave him several books by
Paracelsus, among them also the manuscript, which he was then preparing
to publish.26
He then repeats his high appraisal of Paracelsus in his Spagirologie,
which was published in Upper Lusatia in Görlitz in 1574. In this didactical
poem, Špán values Paracelsus as a promoter of practice-oriented medicine.27
He urges his readers to turn their attention from the obscure sects and dark
implications of the “crazy old man” (Hippocrates), or from hyperproductive
Galen.28 According to Špán, only Paracelsus upheld the honor of medicine
in the laboratory production of drugs.29 The creation of drugs was primarily
an iatrochemic matter and Špán, in comparison with the existing tradition,
especially regarding Galenic medicine, underscores the importance of
chemically prepared therapeutic drugs.
On the other hand, one can find ironic criticism in the Spagirologia,
directed against the followers of Paracelsus, for who the teachings of their
master was only a welcome means to earn money. The text makes it clear
that Špán holds a certain distance from the Paracelsian revival, which in
the early 1570s was growing in intensity. This distance is also symbolically
expressed on the frontispiece of Špán’s work, where his portrait is. It
shows a well-dressed man in his prime (43 years of age) with a confident
expression. In his left hand he holds a flower, and right hand rests on a
book, obviously prepared to thumb through it. The book is identified by the
25
See Corpus Paracelsisticum II, 565 ff.
26
Corpus Paracelsisticum II, 565–566.
27
Laurentius Span a Spanauu, Spagirologia, Görlitz: Fritsch, 1574, A3 v: „operatricis
vertere dogma scholae“
28
Span, Spagirologia, A3 r-v.
29
Span, Spagirologia, A3 v: „Hunc peperit medicinae unus Paracelsus honorem…“
word “Galenus.” Špán’s poetic ambitions are expressed by a laurel wreath,

which is on the table beside his right hand, and his nobility is manifested in
a coat of arms with a unicorn.
Although the poem itself contained criticism of the traditional
medical authorities such as Galen and Hippocrates, at the beginning of the
book Špán still wanted to suggest to its readers that he ultimately remained
a Galenist, although he adopted certain elements of Paracelsus’ teachings.
One of these elements is Paracelsus’ concept of three metaphysical
principles of things, the so-called tria prima. Although it was probably
originally about metaphysical principles which were meant to complement
the Aristotelian doctrine of substance and form, gradually it gained more
and more material content. Many alchemists understood it even materially
and set it in contrast with Empedoclean-Galen-Aristotelian theory of the
four elements as the fundamental constituents of matter.
Špán, however, held both lines. He considered sulphur, mercury, and
salt as the principal elements which physically compose a combination
of elements, which determines the quality of the composite.30 Of all the
ideas of contemporary Paracelsians, Špán was certainly interested in the
concept of man as a microcosm composed of two basic principles, spiritual
and material.31 The material principle is associated with physicality, and
the spiritual with our spirit. Like Rodovský, Špán also demonstrated the
relationship between the spiritual and the religious component of man with
the analogy of a house and its inhabitants.32
Thus, Špán combined principles of the Paracelsian theory of medicine
and the principles of traditional medicine. In this context, it is interesting
that Paracelsus’ terminology is almost completely absent, and moreover,
he does not mention the various “dark” Paracelsian speculations. This
is undoubtedly related to what Špán indicated at the beginning of his
Spagirologia, where Paracelsus is praised for his emphasis on medical
experience and practice.
It is clear that Špán borrowed primarily laboratory procedures from
Paracelsian medicine and alchemy, and treatment methods such as those
associated with chymiatrics or spagyrics, i.e. with chemical medicine.
This characterization is probably more accurate than labelling Špán as
an “opportunistic Paracelsian.”33 Wilhelm Kühlman and Joachim Telle,
30
Span, Spagirologia, A4 r; B3 v: „Omnibus in rebus genitis Elementa notantur/
Quattour, ipse aer, ignis, aqua, atque solum/Istorum mixtura aliquid praedestinat vnum…”
Cf. B4 r; C2 r.
31
Span, Spagirologia, A3 r (This is a misprint. The correct number of the folio is „B3“):
Principio duplici mycrocosmum (sic) corpore creatum/Materiali uno, Spirituali alio.“
32
Span, Spagirologia B3 v: „Materies domus est, habitator spiritus hospes,…”
33
Corpus Paracelsisticum II, 582.
56 Jiří Michalík
however, are correct in drawing attention to Špán’s criticism of Paracelsus’

followers, emphasizing their charlatanic character. Because, as Špán says,
where Paracelsus dealt with facts, his modern supporters use only words.34
Špán’s alchemy as such could have been affected by Paracelsian
alchemy, even though, on the other hand, the Spagirologia lacks many of
the central concepts of Paracelsian alchemy, such as archeus or cagastrum.
Conversely, there are Paracelsian terms present such as “Vulcan”35 or the
term “elyster”, which might refer to Paracelsus’ “illiaster”.36 This term has
several meanings for Paracelsus; Paracelsus refers to either as the first
substance,37 or even the substance of which stars are made.38 Paracelsus’
language is often dark, full of verbal inventions, or peculiarly interpreted
and garbled terminology. In contrast, Špán’s language is poetic,39 wherein
he often described alchemical processes in mythological metaphors,
although on the other hand, he used technical and alchemical terms, such as
“quintessence,”40 and also “professional” terminology regarding alchemical
laboratory supplies. 41
Conclusion
Both alchemists addressed in this study were Protestants, and while Rodovský
was of Czech nationality, Špán was a Czech German. Špán wrote primarily
in Latin, whereas Rodovský wrote in Czech. Špán came from a bourgeois
environment and in young age (1548) he was promoted to the noblility.
In contrast, Bavor Rodovský came from an impoverished noble family.
Rodovský lived in Prague and its vicinity, whereas Špán lived in different
areas of the then called Crown lands, wherein a German population was
34
Span, Spagirologia, A3 r (B3 r): Si caetus princeps vestri Paracelsus et autor/ facta
effecta dedit, vos modo verba datis.
35
Span, Spagirologia A3 r. It is also possible that Span uses the term as a traditional
mythological metaphor for the description of the alchemical process. So the Paracelsian
semantic context could be missing. For a Paracelsian explanation of the term „Vulcanus” see
Walter Pagel, Paracelsus. An Introduction to Philosophical Medicine in the Era of Renaissance,
2nd edition (Basel et al.: Karger, 1982), 105; 115.
36
Span, Spagirologia, B1 r-v. For the term „illiaster” see: Ute Frietsch, Häresie und
Wissenschaft. Eine Genealogie der paracelsischen Alchemie (München: Fink 2013), 101; 123;
Pagel, Paracelsus, 88, 105, 112, 208, 227.
37
Paracelsus, Medizinische Schriften IX, 658.
38
Paracelsus, Medizinische Schriften, X, 501–516.
39
For more on the relationship between alchemy and poetry see: Wilhelm Kühlmann,
Wissen als Poesie: ein Grundriss zu Formen und Funktionen der frühneuzeitlichen Lehrdichtung im
deutschen Kulturraum des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts (Berlin and Boston: De Gruyter 2016).
40
Span, Spagirologia, B4 v; C3 r.
41
Span, Spagirologia, A4 v; C1 r; C3 r.
predominant (Olomouc, Silesia, RBO). Both had a broad range of interests.

Rodovský was an alchemist, astrologer, and ditetic; Špán was an alchemist,
physician, theologian, and poet.
Tycho Brahe mentions in one of his letters to Tadeáš Hájek (Hagecius)42
that Hagecius deals with both Galenic and Paracelsian medicine.43 Like
Tycho and Hájek, also Bavor and Špán were particularly interested in the
“practical” side of Paracelsian alchemy. Because of this, both basically
avoided complicated and ambiguous Paracelsian terminology, and also the
very complex, even chaotic, Paracelsian cosmogony.
Judging by the work and writings of these men, it is clear that they
approached the legacy of Paracelsian thought in a non-dogmatic and sober,
or even pragmatic, fashion. They were not so definitively Paracelsian as, for
example, Gerhard Dorn (1530–1584), Michael Schütz (Toxités, 1514–1581),
Leonhard Thurneysser, Johannes Huser (1545–1597/1604) and Oswald
Croll (1560–1609), but borrowed (albeit critically) their emphasis on the
use of chemical drugs in medicine from Paracelsus, as well as his emphasis
on medical practice and medical experience. Thus, they realized the limits
of conventional medicine and traditional alchemy, and tried to, more or less
successfully, overcome them.
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133.5:54
061.236.6
929:[ 133.5:54 Sendivogius M.
Rafał T. Prinke
Eugeniusz Piasecki University, Poznań, Poland
Michael Sendivogius as a Literary Anti-hero
The figure of the alchemist has become a stock figure in many genres of
European literature and art. Ever since the Middle Ages, he has appeared
under two quite distinct guises: as a wise philosopher and prophet, striving
to understand the deepest secret of nature and God, often successful in his
quest and then represented as a kind of proto-scientist, or as an ignorant
fool, sometimes innocently naïve, sometimes a cynical cheater. When the
alchemist appears only in the background or in a brief episode, he is usually
quite stereotypical. But there is a whole range of literary and artistic works
where he plays the leading role and the two personages may be classed as a
hero and anti-hero. They are clearly reflections of the two traditions of social
perception of alchemists by their contemporaries, which Tara Nummedal
aptly called their personae or masks. Such images of the alchemist developed
into clichés of modern popular culture and found their way into films and
other artistic representations. It is, therefore, quite surprising that very
few scholars studied that motif in greater depth. There were numerous
papers and books on individual works of special importance to the history
of literature (such as Chaucer’s The Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale or Ben Jonson’s
The Alchemist) or on alchemical influences in the works of equally important
authors (like Goethe or Yeats). But until recently no one attempted a more
general survey of diverse representations of the alchemist in all types of
literature, not only the greatest masterpieces. The topic was signalled in a
slim volume by John Read, but its comprehensive treatment had to wait
* rafalp@amu.edu.pl

Tara Nummedal, Alchemy and Authority in the Holy Roman Empire (Chicago, IL:
University of Chicago Press, 2007); especially Chapter 2: The Alchemist’s Personae. She actually
proposed three categories: scholar-prophet, entrepreneur-artisan and fraud-criminal.

John Read, The Alchemist in Life, Literature, and Art (London: Thomas Nelson and
Sons, 1947), 25–55; most of that chapter is devoted to the discussion of Chaucer and Jonson,
62 Rafał T. Prinke
until 2015, when the book by Theodore Ziolkowski was published. It is the
first systematic discussion of the figure of the alchemist in literary works,
presented chronologically, with broadly sketched background of alchemical
theories and practices, as well as their historiographic interpretations,
which often influenced the works of literary fiction or poetry. Ziolkowski’s
research, as he indicated in the preface, was restricted “mainly to works
in English, French, and German,” so there obviously remains much to
be done for literature in other languages. Still, a number of interesting
observations made by Ziolkowski are certainly universal and likewise apply
to other European literatures. What he does not state explicitly but what
can be seen from his overview of the motif is that in the vast majority of
cases the figure of the alchemist is completely fictional. There are only a
few examples of minor works featuring historical alchemists, but often
chosen for their magic rather than alchemy (like Dr. Faust or John Dee).
One may surmise, therefore, that the lives of real (or legendary but believed
to have been real) alchemists, as they were depicted in early modern and
later histories of alchemy, did not appear dramatic enough to the writers in
order to construct their plots around them. They mostly preferred to use
the stereotypical image and actually contributed to developing it through
their fictional works.
There is, however, one major exception – the Polish alchemist Michael
Sendivogius (1566–1636). Theodore Ziolkowski includes a long quotation
from his Novum lumen chymicum in the introductory presentation of the
historical background of alchemy, but then only briefly mentions that his
life was the subject of one of the three tales in Goldmachergeschichten by
Gustav Meyrink. There is, indeed, little more to be found in the literatures
of the languages covered by Ziolkowski, but Sendivogius appears in many
literary works written in Polish and Czech, usually as the main character.
The present paper provides an overview of those works. In practically all of
them the Polish alchemist is represented as possessing the features of the
anti-hero, either ignorant of real alchemical secrets or unable to achieve its
goal, sometimes a cynical fraud, plotting intrigues, at other times a sincere
searcher, eager to discover Nature’s hidden secrets, but eventually realising
he has not achieved anything.
but Read also lists a number of other appearances of the alchemist in literature (in addition
to some texts by alchemists themselves).

Theodore Ziolkowski, The Alchemist in Literature. From Dante to the Present (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2015).

Ziolkowski, The Alchemist, ix.

Ziolkowski, The Alchemist, 9.

Ziolkowski, The Alchemist, 165 (not in the index).
Michael Sendivogius as a Literary Anti-hero 63
The real Sendivogius was born in Poland (probably in Cracow) and

after a period of studies at several universities he became a courtier (later
also counsellor) of Emperor Rudolf II in Prague in 1594. In 1600 King
Sigismund III of Poland made him a royal secretary and he was used by
both monarchs for diplomatic missions. From 1606 until 1613 Sendivogius
worked with Mikołaj Wolski (1553–1630), later Grand Marshal of Poland,
on developing metallurgical industry centre in his estates in Krzepice. Then
the alchemist bought four houses outside the city walls of Cracow (next
to the University), turned them into his residence and lived there until
1626, when he moved to Prague again, having been made the counsellor
of Emperor Ferdinand II. In 1630 the emperor granted to Sendivogius the
land estate of Kravaře and a house in Olomouc in lieu of his services. He
died in 1636 and was probably buried in a church in the nearby town of
Opava.
Michael Sendivogius was very secretive and cautious in relations with
others, as related by his contemporaries. On the other hand, he performed a
number of transmutations, the information on which quickly spread around
Europe and made him a living legend. It was greatly strengthened by the
publication of his first book, De lapide philosophorum (1604), followed by
Dialogus Mercurii, Alchymistae et naturae (1607) and Tractatus de sulphure

For the details of his life, see the still fundamental though outdated monograph:
Roman Bugaj, Michał Sędziwój (1566–1636). Życie i pisma [Michael Sendivogius (1566–1636).
Life and works], Wrocław: Ossolineum, 1968; for recent findings and corrections, see: Rafał
T. Prinke, “Michael Sendivogius and Christian Rosenkreutz: The Unexpected Possibilities,”
The Hermetic Journal (1990): 72–98; ——, “The Twelfth Adept. Michael Sendivogius in
Rudolphine Prague,” in The Rosicrucian Enlightenment Revisited, ed. Ralph White (Hudson,
NY: Lindisfarne Books, 1999), 141–192; Rafał T. Prinke and Anna Pawlaczyk, “Dwa listy
Zygmunta III Wazy do cesarza Rudolfa II w sprawie alchemika Michała Sędziwoja [Two
letters of Sigismund III Vasa to emperor Rudolf II concerning the alchemist Michael
Sendivogius],” Pamiętnik Biblioteki Kórnickiej 27 (2005): 127–134; Rafał T. Prinke, “Milczenie
alchemików. Tożsamość Michała Sędziwoja zakodowana w tekście Basilica chymica Oswalda
Crolla [The silence of the alchemists. The identity of Michael Sendivogius encoded in the
text of Basilica chymica by Oswald Croll],” Pamietnik Biblioteki Kórnickiej 28 (2007): 217–241;
——, “Beyond Patronage: Michael Sendivogius and the Meanings of Success in Alchemy,” in
Chymia: Science and Nature in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, ed. Miguel López Pérez,
Didier Kahn, and Mar Rey Bueno (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing,
2010), 175–231; ——, “Veronika Stiebarin, the Wife of Michael Sendivogius,” in Sršatý Prajz.
Erich Šefčík (1945–2004). Sborník k nedožitým 65. narozeninám historika a archiváře, ed. Jiří
Hanzal and Ondřej Šefčík (Prague: Nakladatelstvì Lidové noviny, 2010), 151–162; ——,
“Nolite de me inquirere (Nechtyějte se po mniě ptatj): Michael Sendivogius (1566–1636),
[Nolite de me inquirere (Do not ask about me): Michael Sendivogius (1566–1636)]” in
Alchymie a Rudolf II. Hledání tajemství přírody ve střední Evropě v 16. a 17. století, ed. Ivo Purš
and Vladimír Karpenko (Prague: Artefactum / Ústav dějin umění AV ČR, 2011), 317-333;
——, “Michał Sędziwój – początki kariery [Early career of Michael Sendivogius],” Kwartalnik
Historii Nauki i Techniki 58: 1 (2012): 89–129.
64 Rafał T. Prinke
(1616), all three of which were later often published under the collective
title of Novum lumen chymicum. They had a large number of editions and
translations, and exerted great influence on both later alchemists and early
science of chemistry. Michael Maier, a contemporary of Sendivogius and
author of several important works on alchemy, even represented him as
the greatest living alchemist, the last link in the chain of adepts, started
by Hermes Trismegistos in Egypt. Interestingly, the Dialogus is actually
a literary work of the type discussed, featuring a misguided and foolish
alchemist, who has an opportunity to question Nature and mercury about
their secrets but does not understand and misinterprets their answers. The
same alchemist returns in the last treatise on sulphur and the results are
the same. Sendivogius’s intention was to present his teachings through the
literary genre of dialogue (also used by other alchemical writers), in which
he utilised satirical criticism of foolish alchemists and showed a sense of
humour which still appeals to the modern reader.
Soon after his death, the legend of Sendivogius took a surprising
turn, which determined his reputation for over three centuries. In 1651
a letter was sent from Warsaw to an unidentified recipient in France, who
had asked the author for information on the life of Sendivogius. It was
written by Pierre Des Noyers (1606–1693), secretary of the Queen of Poland
and active participant of the European network of scholars. The story he
presented formed the nucleus of the negative legend of Sendivogius. Des
Noyers claimed that the Pole was ignorant of alchemy and did not write
De lapide philosophorum but only helped its true author escape from prison
in Saxony. The author was an Englishman, whom Des Noyers called “the
Cosmopolite,” because he did not know his name. As a result of the tortures
he had suffered in prison, the Cosmopolite soon died and Sendivogius
married his widow, hoping that she knew the secret of transmutation.
However, she only had her late husband’s manuscript and some amount of
the Philosophers’ Stone. Sendivogius tried to discover its composition, but
unable to understand the manuscript and having used up the tincture for
worldly pleasures, he decided to publish the Englishman’s treatise as his
own. He remained to be obsessed by alchemy for the rest of his miserable
life and eventually died in poverty.
Ten years later, in 1661, another letter on the life of Sendivogius
was written by Girolamo Pinocci (1612–1676), a merchant and diplomat,
secretary of the King of Poland. He repeated the story told by Des Noyers
and embellished it with further details. At some time between 1656 and

John Read, Humour and Humanism in Chemistry (London: G. Bell and Sons, Ltd.,
1947), 62–63; Stanton J. Linden, “Jonson and Sendivogius: Some new light on Mercury
Vindicated from the Alchemists at Court,” Ambix 24 (1977): 39–54.
1664, the Englishman-Cosmopolite was identified with the elusive Scottish

adept Alexander Seton, who had travelled around Europe performing
public transmutations. This completed the development of the black
legend, which was later repeated in its established form by early historians
of alchemy. Recent research shows that the story was entirely false, the
first version may have been based on distant memories of Des Noyers’s
informants about Sendivogius’s contacts with Edward Kelley (in Bohemia
known as “Engellender” or “the Englishman”) and his widow. But the story
was exciting, included both mystery and adventure, treated love, death, and
obsession, featured a true adept and a foolish impostor, and had a clear
moral lesson to teach – so it actually put together all the key aspects of
earlier popular depictions of the alchemist in his two literary personae: the
hero and the anti-hero. The two stereotypes which developed through the
centuries were thus captured in their fully blown and condensed form into
one compelling story with a lively plot.
The “canonical” version of the legend, from which later Romantic
writers drew their inspirations, was that published in 1832 by Karl Christoph
Schmieder in his erudite history of alchemy.10 He further enriched it with
the genuine episode in the life of Sendivogius, relating his visit to the court
of Duke Friedrich I of Württemberg, where the Pole was kidnapped, robbed
and imprisoned by his rival alchemist, Johann Müller von Mühlenfels
(hanged for that in 1606).11 The first man of letters to recast the story into
literary form was Ludwig Aurbacher (1784–1847), a school teacher and
folk-writer from Swabia, popular for collecting and reworking local legends
and historical traditions. He gave the story of Seton and Sendivogius (here
misnamed “Sendigov”) the form of a short novel (Erzählung) with dialogues
and added episodes involving other alchemists (e.g. Edward Kelley). Entitled
Die Adepten [The Adepts], it was first printed in 1838 in a literary periodical
Charitas, published in Regensburg by Eduard von Schenk (1788–1841),
a Bavarian statesman and poet.12 At the end of the 19th century it was
reprinted twice in Aurbacher’s collected works.13

For the details and sources of the information in the two paragraphs, see the items
cited earlier, especially: Prinke, “Beyond Patronage.”; ——, “Nolite de me inquirere.”
10
Karl Christoph Schmieder, Geschichte der Alchemie (Halle: Verlag der Buchhandlung
des Waisenhauses, 1832), 324–346, 366–375.
11
The incident was researched in archival documents and presented in considerable
detail by: Christoph Gottlieb von Murr, Litterarische Nachrichten zu der Geschichte des
sogenannten Goldmachens (Leipzig: Paul Gotthilf Kummer, 1805), 54–79.
12
Ludwig Aurbacher, “Die Adepten,” in Charitas, ed. Eduard von Schenk (Regensburg:
1838), 1–87.
13
——, “Die Adepten,” in Gesammelte größere Erzählungen von Ludwig Aurbacher, ed.
Joseph Sarreiter (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1881, 1890), 68–123.
66 Rafał T. Prinke
I will take the freedom to leave the chronological order of discussing the
appearances of Sendivogius in literary works because Aurbacher’s retelling
of his legend is very similar to that undertaken almost a century later by
Gustav Meyrink (1868–1932), the famous Austrian author of modernist or
neo-romantic occult novels, himself an esotericist, and his “ghost co-writer”
Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr (1877–1969), a philosopher of religion, in
one of the three tales included in the collection Goldmachergeschichten
[Stories about goldmakers] of 1925.14 Although Meyrink alone appeared on
the title page, it is believed that the book was quickly compiled by Schmid
Noerr himself from Schmieder’s book and an anonymously published
account of alchemists of 1872. Die Abenteuer des Polen Sendivogius [The
Adventures of the Pole Sendivogius], as well as the other two parts of the
book, were so unoriginal that some reviewers soon discovered their sources
and accused Meyrink of plagiarism.15 A facsimile edition was released in
1989 and in 1996 the book appeared in Czech translation.16 The plot was
basically the same but – unlike Aurbacher – Meyrink (or Schmid Noerr)
incorporated the Mühlenfels incident. The German alchemist captured
and imprisoned Sendivogius because the Pole pretended to be an adept,
performing transmutations with Seton’s tincture. After he escaped, he
became a humble man and travelled around Europe, warning people of the
risks of practicing alchemy. Eventually he took refuge in the mountains of
Scharzwald, where he lived with a Gypsy woman.
Returning to the Romantic era, Sendivogius received the most
extensive literary treatment in a three volume novel Sędziwój [Sendivogius]
by Józef Bohdan Dziekoński (1816–1855), written in 1843 and published
in 1845.17 Dziekoński was not a prolific author.18 His only other novel was
a parody co-written with Józef Aleksander Miniszewski (1821–1863).
He was, nevertheless, an important member of the Warsaw Bohemian
circles, co-founder and leader of a humorous group called the Guild of
14
Gustav Meyrink and [Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr], “Die Abenteuer des Polen
Sendivogius,” in Goldmachergeschichten, ed. Gustav Meyrink (Berlin: Scherl, 1925), 195–261;
repr. Darmstadt: Verlag Wolfgang Roller, 1989, and several ebook editions.
15
Ziolkowski, The Alchemist in Literature, 165.
16
Gustav Meyrink and [Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr], “Dobrodružství Poláka
Sendivogia [The adventures of the Pole Sendivogius],” in Alchymistické povídky, ed. Gustav
Meyrink [Prague: Volvox Globator, 1996], 155–206; there were two later editions: Prague:
Levné knihy 2000 and 2015.
17
Józef Bohdan Dziekoński, Sędziwój, 3 vols. (Warszawa: Jan Jaworski, 1845).
18
For more on his life and works see: Dorota Zamojska, Bursz-cygan-legionista. Józef
Bohdan Dziekoński 1816–1855 [Student-Bohemist-Legionist. Józef Bohdan Dziekoński
1816–1855] (Warszawa: Neriton, 1995).
Fools.19 In 1846 Dziekoński left Poland for Paris, where he cooperated with
Adam Mickiewicz and joined the messianic sect of Andrzej Towiański. He
continued writing on emigration in France, but did not publish anything,
and in his last will ordered to burn all manuscripts. Besides some short
stories – usually on fantastic and “gothic” themes20 – and reports from his
travels, Dziekoński published a few articles on hermetic themes, including
a lengthy summary of Schmieder’s history of alchemy, with the chapters on
Seton and Sendivogius in full translation.21 His Sędziwój, now considered to
be the most important Polish Romantic novel, was actually forgotten and
– except for a pulp edition as a free supplement to a weekly magazine in
1907, with numerous errors in the text22 – was not republished until 1974.23
The new edition came with a long scholarly essay by Antoni Gromadzki,
which marked the rediscovery of Dziekoński’s novel and was followed
by numerous publications on the work and its author.24 In 1999 it was
included among one hundred most important works of Polish literature
for the UNESCO project of free full text electronic editions Virtual Library
of Classic Texts of World Literature25 (now also available as ebooks) and in
2013 a Slovak translation was published.26
The sub-genre of Sędziwój as a Romantic novel was variously labelled
“occultist-alchemical”, “magnetic” or “frenetic,” “new gothic” or even
“masonic” by different scholars. They also pointed to a wide range of
possible literary influences on Dziekoński, from Walter Scott to Edgar Allan
Poe. The most involved discussion concerned the problem whether Sędziwój
19
Maciej Szargot, “Józefa Bohdana Dziekońskiego i jego kompanów “życie na żart”
[The „life for the joke” of Józef Bohdan Dziekoński and his companions],” Ruch Literacki 55:
1 (2014): 23–34
20
——, Opowieści niesamowite Józefa Bogdana Dziekońskiego [The weird stories of Józef
Bohdan Dziekoński], Prace Naukowe Uniwersytetu Śląskiego w Katowicach, 2233 (Katowice:
Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, 2004).
21
Karl Christoph Schmieder, “Krótki rys historii alchemii ułożony według Schmiedera
[A short historical overview of alchemy presented according to Schmieder],” Biblioteka
Warszawska 3 (1844): 55–90, 304–373, 537–602.
22
Józef Bohdan Dziekoński, Sędziwój, 2 vols., a free supplement to Tygodnik
Ilustrowany (Warszawa: Gebethner i Wolff, 1907).
23
——, Sędziwój, ed. Antoni Gromadzki (Warszawa: Państwowy Instytut Wydawniczy, 1974).
24
Besides those already cited, the earlier important overview was: Izabela Jarosińska,
“Józef Bohdan Dziekoński (1816-1855),” in Obraz literatury polskiej. Literatura krajowa
w okresie Romantyzmu 1831–1863, ed. Maria Janion, Maria Dernałowicz, and Marian
Maciejewski (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Literackie, 1988), 179–208.
25
Marek Adamiec, “Virtual Library of Polish Literature,” 2001–2003; http://literat.ug.edu.pl
26
Józef Bohdan Dziekoński, Sendivoj – temný alchymista. Mysteriózno-historický
román o tajuplnom okultistovi [Sendivogius – the dark alchemist. A mysterious-historical
novel about the eerie occultist], trans. Tomáš Horváth (Bratislava: Európa, 2013).
68 Rafał T. Prinke
was modelled on Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s Zanoni.27 There are indeed many

similarities but it seems doubtful that writing in 1843, Dziekoński could
have known the English novel published only a year earlier.28 Moreover,
he was fluent in German and French (from which he made some published
literary translations), but probably did not know English. The apparent
similarities may rather be due to the general spirit of the age, while more
obvious influences are those of Johann Wolfgang Goethe and – especially
– E. T. A. Hoffmann. Thus the novel escapes narrow categorisation, being
syncretic or eclectic in its various levels of meaning and style.
The plot of Sędziwój is quite complex and revolves around the
relationship between the Cosmopolite, a great immortal adept, and
Sendivogius, a young Polish nobleman, who meets him in Basel. The stranger
makes the Pole interested in alchemy, which soon becomes an obsession.
With his help, he finds a manuscript and some tincture in the grave of
another adept, Anathemius Tholden, in whose daughter the Cosmopolite
falls in love. He has to abandon his immortality in order to marry her, but
later she becomes a lover of Sendivogius, while his own wife is seduced by
his friend Rogosz. Eventually Sendivogius buys her back from Rogosz for a
large amount of gold produced with Tholden’s tincture. He also uses it for
dissolute life, but when it is finished, he falls into poverty and keeps trying
to discover the alchemical secret of immortality. He finally succeeds in a
very old age but it does not bring him happiness. Throughout the book, the
Cosmopolite appears as a perfect master, one who never broke his word,
did not disclose the secret of the Philosophers’ Stone even under torture,
renounced worldly life and even his immortality in order to be true to his
ideals and feelings. Sendivogius, on the other hand, is a complex character,
often mean and cynical, sacrificing his life, love, friendships, and even his
soul for just one goal which is not worth it. Although he eventually reaches
it, the achievement does not bring consolation. The book contains lengthy
passages of internal monologues, in which Sendivogius considers many
philosophical and religious questions related to the nature of God, Nature,
knowledge, power, and love. Dziekoński made him a genuine embodiment
of the late Romantic anti-hero, with all the dilemmas and doubts of his
literary predecessors, but also with strongly negative strains of character
and often repelling behaviour.
27
Antoni Gromadzki, “Józef Bogdan Dziekoński autor “Sędziwoja” [Józef Bohdan
Dziekoński, the author of „Sendivogius”],” in Sędziwój, ed. Józef Bohdan Dziekoński
(Warszawa: Państwowy Instytut Wydawniczy, 1974), 143–144.
28
The Polish translation appeared only in 1906: Edward Bulwer-Lytton, Zanoni. Powieść
z czasów rewolucji francuskiej [Zanoni. A novel from the times of the French Revolution],
trans. Maria Komornicka, 3 vols., Biblioteka Dzieł Wyborowych, 417 (Warszawa: Józef
Sikorski, 1906).
A few years after Dziekoński’s novel, Sendivogius appeared in a

Czech drama entitled Magelona by Josef Jiří Kolár (1812–1896). It was first
staged and printed in 1852, and is often considered to be the best tragedy
written in Czech in the 19th century.29 The author was also an actor (he
appeared himself in two stagings of Magelona, in 1852 and 1861), but is
especially well known as the translator of all of Shakespeare’s plays into
Czech. The popularity of Kolár’s masterpiece was lasting even throughout
the 20th century, with numerous stagings in many Czech theatres and a radio
broadcast in 1992. The text was also reprinted in 1862, 1911 and 1957.30 It
is a story of love and jealousy at the court of Rudolf II, involving himself,
his illegitimate son Don César (the character based on the infamous Don
Julius Caesar), and a range of others, including the Spanish lady Magelona
of Trebizond and her little son Henriquez, whose father is unknown (in
the end he turns out to be the Emperor himself). Sendivogius (here called
“Sendivojus” and occassionally speaking Polish) is an alchemist and tutor
of Don César, but there is little reference to alchemy in the play. He is
responsible for constructing the awful intrigue which ends in a terrible
tragedy: the murder of Magelona by her rival Eva of Los and the latter’s
suicide. Thus Sendivogius is not an anti-hero in this case, but rather a
typical schwarzer Charakter.
Another drama, this time with Sendivogius as the main character, was
planned by Maria Ilnicka (1825–1897), a poet, feminist and revolutionary.
Only the first part of her play Alchemik [The Alchemist], written in verse,
was published in 1858 and most probably it was never completed.31 It starts
with a conversation between the elderly Sendivogius, still spending most of
his time in the laboratory, striving to find out the secret of creation, and his
brother Stanisław, who warns him the dream is sinful and blasphemous.
In the end, Michael announces that he is a brother of Christ and with the
alchemical gold, once he can make it, he will conquer Satan and make
everyone happy. The second part takes place fifteen years later at the cottage
of Stanisław’s widow. An old man arrives, whom she does not recognise (it is
evidently Sendivogius), and they talk about what is important in life. When
she insists that money is what count, the old man gives her a pouch of gold
and leaves. The whole is written in the spirit of naïve Romanticism, with the
alchemist as the anti-hero, who spent his whole life in vain, because when
29
Josef Jiří Kolár, Magelóna. Tragedie o čtyřech jednánich (Magelona. A tragedy in four
acts, Prague: Jaroslav Pospíšil, 1852, 1862).
30
——, Magelóna. Tragedie o čtyřech dějstvích (Prague: I. L. Kober, 1911); ——,
Magelóna. Tragedie o čtyřech dějstvích, Divadelní biblioteka (Prague: DILIA čs. divadelní a
literární jednatelství, 1957).
31
Maria Ilnicka, “Alchemik. Obraz dramatyczny. Pierwszy ustęp [The alchemist. A
dramatic picture. Section one],” Biblioteka Warszawska 2, no. 16 (1858): 239–258.
70 Rafał T. Prinke
he finally discovered the secret of the Philosophers’ Stone, he understood it

could not make anyone happy.
While the two plays discussed above did not refer in any way to the
traditional legend of the Polish alchemist, the drama Michał Sędziwój [Michael
Sendivogius] by Wacław Szymanowski (1821–1886) retold it once again.32
It was also written in verse and first staged and published in 1859, with
new editions in 1862 and 1884 (also an ebook released in 2011).33 In 1865 it
was staged in Cracow, featuring the greatest Polish actress of that century,
Helena Modrzejewska. Polish scholars of literature classify the drama as
belonging to “Black Romanticism” and a critical edition of it (along with
all the other works of that current) is now being prepared.34 Szymanowski,
an important poet of the period, did quite extensive historical research on
Sendivogius and published it in a three-part article35. That is certainly the
reason why the play features, besides Seton the Cosmopolite, a number of
characters loosely based on historical figures related to Sendivogius, who
were not present in the traditional story. The drama begins with the young
alchemist being in love with his cousin Jadwiga, but her father does not agree
for them to get married because Sendivogius is obsessed with searching for
the Philosophers’ Stone. He learns that Seton, whom he had met earlier, has
been imprisoned in Dresden by Count Ulrych. His wife Anna tries to free
him without success, then Sendivogius arrives and Ulrych tells him that
Seton has discovered the alchemical secret. He does not divulge the secret
even under torture but Sendivogius manages to set him free. They escape
to Poland but Seton dies. On his deathbed he makes Sendivogius swear that
he will marry his wife and on this condition will receive the Philosophers’
Stone. The alchemist agrees, thus rejecting his true love. He then leads
an empty life of luxury in Prague but Anna, Seton’s widow, cannot bear
it and poisons herself. A former friend Zacharias accuses Sendivogius of
practicing magic and he is arrested. His uncle and Jadwiga come to Prague
and ask the Emperor to release the alchemist, which is granted. Sendivogius
finally realises how wrong he was in believing the sinful promises of alchemy
rather than the voice of his heart – and goes back to Poland with Jadwiga.
Until that final conversion (which is presented as mainly religious), he is
definitely a mean character or anti-hero of the play.
32
Wacław Szymanowski, Michał Sędziwój. Dramat w pięciu aktach oryginalnie wierszem
napisany (Michael Sendivogius. Drama in five acts, originally written in verse, Warszawa: J.
Unger, 1859).
33
——, “Michał Sędziwój. Dramat w pięciu aktach oryginalnie wierszem napisany,” in
Poezye i dramata, ed. Wacław Szymanowski (Warszawa: Gebethner i Wolff, 1884).
34
“Czarny Romantyzm [The Black Romanticism],” 2013; http://wschodzachod.uwb.
edu.pl/czarny-romantyzm/ (accessed 30 October 2016).
35
——, “Michał Sędziwój,” Tygodnik Ilustrowany 5, no. 137, 139, 140 (1862): 181–183,
207–212, 216–218.
Based on historical research – far more sound than Szymanowski’s

– was also the short novel Kámen filosofský [The Philosophers’ Stone]
by Zikmund Winter (1846–1912), first published in 1893 in a literary
periodical called Květy.36 It was then reprinted several times in his collected
works.37 Winter was a historian and published a number of important
monographs on various aspects of the history of Prague, all resulting from
his exceptional familiarity with archival sources. He also wrote novels and
stories, presenting his findings in a more popular and dramatised way. In
Kámen filosofský he did the same with the records of the municipal court
of justice from the case against Sendivogius, who was sued by the family
of Ludvík Korálek, a rich patrician interested in alchemy, who had his own
laboratory. He cooperated with Sendivogius, who also attempted to cure
him when he became seriously ill. Eventually he died and the Pole was
accused of causing his death, so that he would not need to pay back the loan
he had got from Korálek. Although the matter was eventually settled when
Sendivogius agreed to pay the debt to the family, it was not clear that he
really acted in good faith, so his fiancée broke the engagement with him. As
Winter put it, “the famous alchemist found freedom, but lost a wife”. In the
last sentence he stated (this time without checking his sources) that many
years later Sendivogius died somewhere in Germany as a beggar. It was not
true, because he really died in Bohemian Silesia as a rich landowner. But it
fitted the image of an anti-hero.
Winter may be excused for that misinformation, because the sources
for the last period in the life of Sendivogius were discovered only over ten
years later. When the information was published, another writer used it in
a similar way. The result was a tale entitled Polský čert [The Polish devil] by
Josef František Karas (1876–1931), included in a book of the same title,
containing four other stories from Silesia.38 The alchemist is presented
as “the Habsburgs’ scourge” against reformation in the area, all the time
initiating conflicts with his neighbours dealing with religion, his estate
borders or purely personal matters. His showed disdain towards the local
state authorities and was a cruel lord of his peasants. So once again, without
reference to the traditional legend, the Polish alchemist was shown as an
anti-hero, or even worse – a devil.
36
Zikmund Winter, “Kámen filosofský [The Philosophers’ Stone],” Květy 15, no. 1
(1893): 63–131.
37
——, Pražské obrázky. Řada čtvrtá, Sebrané spisy z belletrie a z kulturních studií
[The Prague pictures. Fourth series. Collected works of belles-lettres and cultural studies],
13 (Prague: J. Otto, 1918, 1920); ——, Pražské obrázky. Řada druhá, Výbor ze spisů Zikmunda
Wintra, 4 (Prague: J. Otto, 1929, 1930).
38
Josef František Karas, “Polský čert,” in Polský čert. Pět slezských povídek [The Polish
devil. Five Silesian tales], ed. Josef František Karas (Prague: B. Kočí, 1924), 7–74.
72 Rafał T. Prinke
Literary works about Michael Sendivogius were also written for

younger readers. In 1927 a novel for teenagers was published, entitled
Poszukiwacz złota [The Seeker after Gold].39 Its author, Mieczysław
Smolarski (1888–1967), had already been a well-known novelist, especially
for his 1924 futuristic fantasy novel Miasto światłości [The City of Lights],
which – together with the sequel of 1928, entitled Podróż poślubna
pana Hamiltona [The Honeymoon Trip of Mr. Hamilton] – had so many
similarities to Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World (published in 1932), that
Smolarski placed at International PEN a formal accusation of plagiarism
in 1948. The book on Sendivogius was republished in 1946 and 1949, the
latter with the text corrected by the author.40 Further editions followed,
all of which were nicely illustrated by different artists.41 The story, mostly
relying on the traditional legend, is narrated by Jan Bodowski, presented
here as the lifelong servant of Sendivogius, who first met him as a boy. It
starts with a murder of a Swedish visitor in an inn where Bodowski worked.
On his body, Jan found a letter from Seton, signed with the symbol of
Rosicrucians, and took it to Sendivogius. They have a lengthy conversation
on alchemy and Bodowski, fascinated with it, enters his service. They leave
for Saxony (where Seton was imprisoned) together with a Baron de Salis. At
the castle of Duke Christian it turns out that it was Mühlenfels who caused
Seton’s imprisonment. Sendivogius challanges Mühlenfels to perform a
transmutation and proves to the Duke that he is a fraud. Christian agrees
to the Poles’ suggestion that he may talk to Seton and find out his secret.
But Sendivogius with the help of Bodowski arranged Seton’s escape and
they all safely arrived in Cracow. However, as a result of the tortures Seton
suffered at the hands of Duke Christian and Mühlenfels, he soon dies. On
his deathbed, he gives Sendivogius an amount of the Philosophers’ Stone.
The Pole marries his widow, who gives him her late husband’s manuscripts,
even though he really loves the daughter of Baron de Salis. Made rich with
the alchemical gold, the alchemist visits Prague, where he meets Johann
Kepler and John Dee, and cures Emperor Rudolf II. Then they return
to Poland and Sendivogius is summoned to a meeting of Rosicrucians,
who want him to join their Order, but Sendivogius refuses to pledge
unconditional obedience. After that the alchemist goes to Stuttgart and is
imprisoned by Mühlenfels there, but Bodowski manages to free him. Later
39
Mieczysław Smolarski, Poszukiwacz złota. Powieść z tajemnic polskiej alchemji [The
seeker after gold. A novel from the secrets of Polish alchemy], (Poznań: Księgarnia Św.
Wojciecha, 1927).
40
——, Poszukiwacz złota. Powieść z dziejów polskiej alchemii (Kraków-Warszawa:
Wydawnictwo Eugeniusza Kuthana, 1946, 1949).
41
——, Poszukiwacz złota. Powieść z dziejów polskiej alchemii (Warszawa: Nasza
Księgarnia, 1955, 1957, 1963).
their routes part and Sendivogius settles down in his estate in Silesia, where
he continues experiments, making many important chemical discoveries,
but never finding out how to make the Philosophers’ Stone.
Another treatment of Sendivogius was written down by Jadwiga
Żylińska (1910–2009), an extremely popular author of historical novels
and short stories. Tajemnica Sędziwoja [The Secret of Sendivogius] was first
published in 1962 and was republished several times in large editions, with
different sets of illustrations.42 The story is about a seventeen years old
Jacek Wilkoński, who was sent to Cracow after his father died. He loses
all his money at gambling in an inn, so has to find a job and becomes an
apprentice at passementier’s workshop. He falls in love with Anulka, an
apothecary’s daughter. In order to win her father’s acceptance, he intends
to enter service at the royal court. The chief maid of the royal household,
who wants to help him, tells him about the alchemist Sendivogius and shows
him his laboratory at the castle. They hide in the chimney as the king comes
with his entourage and witness a transmutation performed by Sendivogius.
After an explosion of the elixir in the fireplace, they have to come out and
Sendivogius asks the king to let Jacek serve him during his expedition to
Prague. When they are alone, Jacek confesses to the alchemist that he saw
how he deceived the king and faked the transmutation. Sendivogius explains
that he is interested in the real secrets of nature, but needs money for his
experiments, so he has to delude the king and others to finance his research.
Jacek resigns from becoming the alchemist’s apprentice and Sendivogius
writes a letter of recommendation to the father of his beloved Anulka. He is
accepted by the apothecary and stays in Cracow, while Sendivogius leaves
for Prague.
Jadwiga Żylińska also wrote a longer piece on Sendivogius for adult
readers, entitled Kawaler Christian Rosenkreutz [Chevallier Christian
Rosenkreutz], included with two other stories in a book published in
1977.43 It was based on both new historical findings and elements of the
traditional legend. Sendivogius learns from Mikołaj Wolski, castellan of
Cracow, that the famous Alexander Seton is in Gdańsk and travels there
to meet him. Time moves back: Wolski has a visit from an alchemist who
returned from Italy, Michael Sendivogius. They have a long conversation
and the castellan sends the young man to the University in Leipzig. He
meets Johann Thölde and his beautiful daughter Veronica. The name of
42
Jadwiga Żylińska, Tajemnica Sędziwoja [The secret of Sendivogius] (Warszawa:
Biuro Wydawnicze Ruch, 1962, 1964, 1971); ——, Tajemnica Sędziwoja (Warszawa: Krajowa
Agencja Wydawnicza, RSW Prasa-Książka-Ruch, 1975).
43
——, “Kawaler Christian Rosenkreutz (Chevallier Christian Rosenkreutz),” in
Do kogo należy świat? (To whom does the world belong?) (Warszawa: Państwowy Instytut
Wydawniczy, 1977), 149–186.
74 Rafał T. Prinke
Christian Rosenkreutz is mentioned during conversation but they do not

want to explain its meaning to the Pole. Later he is invited by Veronica to
a secret meeting, where he witnesses the ritual of the Chemical Wedding.
When they leave, Sendivogius proposes to her and she accepts him. They
move to the imperial court in Prague and Sendivogius is accused of causing
the death of his alchemical friend Ludvík Korálek. The emperor helps him
but insists on the performance of a transmutation before him, which he is
not able to do. Veronica becomes ill during the plague and on her deathbed
reveals the great secret to her husband. The Philosophers’ Stone and the
Great Elixir are only symbolic metaphors of personal perfection. To the
question how she knows that, she replies “From Christian Rosenkreutz. But
he does not exist, either. He is just a name”.
A book on Sendivogius for the youngest readers was published in
2013 by the Wawel Royal Castle museum in Cracow.44 Entitled Alchemiczna
komnata [The alchemical chamber], it contains the text by Magdalena
Skarbska and magnificent illustrations by Paweł Pawlak. The simple
story describes how king Sigismund III sought the Philosophers’ Stone
together with Michael Sendivogius. One day the latter found out that the
king succeeded in his endeavour and was so envious that he set fire to the
laboratory and the secret was lost. Even though the story is pure fiction and
with no relation to the old legend, the Polish alchemist is again presented
as an anti-hero.
The figure of the greatest Polish alchemist also found his way to folk
tales. A Polish example is one first published in 1947 with the title Jak
magik z Krakowa nabrał śląskiego zbójnika (How a Magician from Cracow
Took in a Silesian Robber), in which Sendivogius appears as a magician,
changing his appearance to a young boy and transmuting stones into
jewels, while sending the robber to hell.45 In Kravaře, the former land estate
of Sendivogius, there are likewise folk stories about the alchemical gold
produced by him, hidden in the dungeons under his castle.46 According to
one version, he made six gold ducks, two of which were the dowry of his
daughter, while the remaining four are still hidden.47
44
Magdalena Skarbska, Alchemiczna komnata (The alchemical chamber), Legendy
Wawelskie (Kraków: Zamek Królewski na Wawelu, 2013).
45
“Jak magik z Krakowa nabrał śląskiego zbójnika,” in Legendy i baśnie śląskie, ed.
Stanisław Wasylewski (Katowice: Ognisko, 1947); “Jak magik z Krakowa nabrał śląskiego
zbójnika,” in Klechdy domowe, ed. Hanna Kostyrko (Warszawa: Nasza Księgarnia, 1962),
33–37.
46
Ludmila Hořká, “Pověsti a povídačky,” in Národopisné paběrky z Hlučínska (Kravaře:
Zámecké muzeum v Kravařích, 1948, 2002).
47
Erich Šefčík, Kravaře (Plzeň 2003), no pagination.
Finally, a mention should be made of some recent novels in which

Sendivogius is referred to but does not appear himself or is a secondary
character. One such was a volume in a successful series for teenagers,
started by Zbigniew Nienacki (real name Zbigniew Nowicki) in 1957
(with the fully defined background from the fourth volume of 1964). It
presents adventures of a group of teenagers and Pan Samochodzik [Mr.
Automobile], an art historian who traces art thiefs and smuggers, and also
solves various mysteries of the past. The series was afterwards continued
by other authors and one of them, Tomasz Olszakowski, published in 2001
Sekret alchemika Sędziwoja [The Secret of Alchemist Sendivogius].48 A
historical trilogy Kuzynki (Cousins) by Andrzej Pilipiuk, published in 2003–
2005 (with a fourth volume issued in 2014), features Sendivogius as one of
the important characters.49 A novel of historical adventure (likewise for the
teenage readers) by Mariusz Wollny, published in 2012 and entitled Kacper
Ryx i król alchemików [Kacper Ryx and the King of Alchemists], treats of a
young student of Cracow, who solves criminal and political problems on the
international scale.50 The “king of the alchemists” is Sigismund III, while
Sendivogius appears only occasionally.
Besides literary works, Michael Sendivogius also made his appearance
in other media. In 1983 transparencies for children were published with an
invented story Jak mistrz Sędziwój latał [How Master Sendivogius Flew], in
which he was imprisoned in Moravia and escaped from the tower using
a hang glider.51 In 1988 a movie Alchemik [The Alchemist] and TV series
entitled Alchemik Sendivius [The Alchemist Sendivius] were produced,
directed by Jacek Koprowicz, who also wrote the screenplay, with the
great Polish actor Olgierd Łukaszewicz playing the title role.52 They were
loosely based on the traditional legend of Seton and Sendivogius, but also
contained many fantasy episodes, and ended with the alchemist’s finding of
a shipwrecked UFO in the desert.
Summing up, the present paper shows how popular Michael
Sendivogius was as a literary character. Practically all of the works
presented above represent him as an anti-hero, either a cheater or a loser.
The reason was, on the one hand, his “black legend” created shortly after
his death, and on the other hand – a generally negative stereotype of the
48
Tomasz Olszakowski, Sekret alchemika Sędziwoja, Pan Samochodzik i... (Olsztyn:
Wydawnictwo Warmia, 2001).
49
Andrzej Pilipiuk, Kuzynki; Księżniczka; Dziedziczki; Zaginiona (Lublin: Fabryka Snów,
2003–2014).
50
Mariusz Wollny, Kacper Ryx i król alchemików (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Otwarte, 2012).
51
Włodzimierz Terechowicz, Jak mistrz Sędziwój latał (Warszawa: DONAU Trading
Company, 1983).
52
I had the pleasure of being the consultant on alchemical matters.
76 Rafał T. Prinke
alchemist, pursuing a dream which cannot be realised. As it often happens,

the historical figure of Sendivogius appears – in the light of recent research
– to have been quite different in many respects, but also similar in others.
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133.5:54
György E. Szönyi*
University of Szeged / Central European University, Budapest
The Modern Adept: A Novel on Alchemy and Its

Hungarian Reception in the Time of the
Enlightenment
In 1810 a curious book appeared in Vienna: its language was Hungarian

and its subject a fictional narrative about alchemy and the Freemasons. The
title communicates the following pieces of information: A’ Mostani Adeptus
vagy is a’ Szabad Kőmívesek valóságos titka [The Modern Adept or the Real
Secret of the Freemasons]; Frantziából fordította Bárótzi Sándor magyar nemes
testőrző [translated from the French by Sándor Bárótzi, a noble Hungarian
guardian]; Béts, Nyomtattatott Haykul Antal betűivel [Printed in Vienna by
Anton Haykul] .
The book does not mention the author of the original novel, but the
translator is well-known. Sándor Bárótzi (1735-–1809), was an eminent
member of those literati of the Hungarian Enlightenment who started
their career as aristocratic or gentry members of the Royal Hungarian
Bodyguard in Vienna, founded in 1760 by Maria Theresia in acknowledging
the heroism of the Hungarian troops during the Seven Years’ War. The
* szonyigy@ceu.edu

There have been used various spelling forms of the translator’s name: Bárótzi,
Bárótzy, Báróczy, Báróczi. Although in his own time the first two versions were used, modern
Hungarian historiography has been using the last one. See Pál Pándi ed., A magyar irodalom
története III [The History of Hungarian Literature] (Budapest: Akadémiai, 1965), 63. Since
his publications appeared in his lifetime under the author’s name Bárótzi I shall stick to this
spelling.

Seven Years’ War (1756–63), the last major conflict before the French Revolution
to involve all the great powers of Europe. Generally, France, Austria, Saxony, Sweden, and
Russia were aligned on one side against Prussia, Hanover, and Great Britain on the other.
The war arose out of the attempt of the Austrian Habsburgs to win back the rich province of
Silesia, which had been wrested from them by Frederick II (the Great) of Prussia during the
War of the Austrian Succession (1740–48). (See Encyclopedia Britannica, <www.britannica.
com/event/Seven-Years-War>, access: 2016-05-15). While the overseas spin-offs of this
complex European war had had long-lasting effects (The French and Indian War), the conflict
between Austria and Prussia concluded with a tie.
80 György E. Szönyi
Empress’ noble purpose was to foster the cultural education of young

Hungarians in a cosmopolitan environment in the Habsburg capital and
make them acquainted with courtly life and manners. The Hungarian
Bodyguard existed till 1848 and produced the most important leaders of
Hungarian cultural reforms in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.
Paradoxically, the anti-Hungarian reforms of Joseph II in the guard
brought about very positive results: the englightened reformer Emperor
reduced the number of Hungarians to fifty percent and mixed them in
common barracks with similar Croatian and Polish corps. That resulted
in a necessity to speak in German as the common parlance. Furthermore,
the Emperor used the guardians as messengers, lower rank diplomats,
sending them to foreign courts, especially to France. Consequently the
young Hungarians learnt languages and became early acquainted with the
thriving French intellectual life of the period. Patriotism combined with
cosmopolitanism inspired these young men to introduce Western ideas
and literary models in Hungary, they became engaged in propagating the
Enlightenment, reforming the Hungarian language, they also established
literary periodicals and with a great number of translations contributed to
the polishing of the otherwise rather provincial Hungarian culture.
Bárótzi was one of these “bodyguard-writers” who lived in Vienna
and got under the spell of Western European literature. He learnt German
and French and became an important translator. His most influential
works in this capacity were Gauthier de Costes, seigneur de la Calprenede’s
Cassandre (1642–1650; Hungarian translation published in 1774), Jean-
François Marmontel’s Moral Tales (begun in 1755; Hungarian translation
published in 1775), and Johann Jakob Dusch’s Moralische Briefe zur Bildung
des Herzens (1759; Hungarian translation published in 1775). Although he
settled down in Vienna and never returned to his native Transylvania, he
kept close contacts with Hungarian literary circles and became a benevolent
patron of young Hungarian literati. Inspired by this intellectual atmosphere,
he wrote his important theoretical treatise about the improvement of
the Hungarian language (A védelmeztetett magyar nyelv [A Defense of the
Hungarian Language], 1790).
One of his close literary friends was Ferenc Kazinczy (1759–1831),
the leader of the language reform and a literary potentate of the period,

On the Hungarian Guard in Vienna see the Pallas Nagylexikon, quoted in the
Hungarian Kislexikon (<www.kislexikon.hu/magyar_testorseg.html>, access: 2016-05-15).

On the Hungarian culture of this period see Domokos Kosáry, Culture and Society
in Eighteenth-century Hungary (Budapest: Corvina, 1987) and László Kontler, Millenium in
Central Europe: A History of Hungary (London: Palgrave, Macmillan, 2002), 215ff.
The Modern Adept: A Novel on Alchemy and Its Hungarian Reception... 81
himself an accomplished translator. He left behind an incredible amount

of correspondence, full of literary gossips, from which we know most about
Bárótzi’s secret passion: alchemy.
According to Kazinczy’s hearsay, during his bgodyguard days Bárótzi
had to consult a doctor in Vienna to cure his venereal disease. It was this
doctor who invited him into the circles of the Freemasons and stirred up
his interest in goldmaking. Although at that time the secret sciences were
not as popular as a century earlier, the Freemasons and their related, even
more exclusive society, the Rosicrucians still pursued its practice. Bárótzi
invested a great deal of effort to familiarize himself with the Art and this
brought the mentioned French novel in his attention. We do not know when
exactly he prepared the translation, since it was only published in the year
following his death. The translator took his task very seriously, witness to
this is a lengthy, seventy pages’ introduction about the history and prestige
of alchemy. I leave the review of this treatise to a later part of my essay and
propose now to have a look at the novel itself.
II
The Hungarian translator was rather vague about his original. In the
“Introduction” he mentions that the L’ Adepte moderne ou Le vrai secret des
francs-maçons had been published “some time ago” and later a German
translation also appeared, entitled Der neue Goldmacher, oder das wahre
Geheimniss der Freymäurer. Until recently the publication history as well
as its possible author were rather uncertain. The French work indicated
London as the place of printing and mentioned that it was published by the
author’s costs (“aux dépens de l’auteur”), but no date is given here. In the
general catalogue of English books (COPAC) two items turn up under this
title, one gives London 1777, the other indicates Dresden as the place of
printing in the year 1755. However all places and dates are followed by a
question mark. As for Der neue Goldmacher, the publication place and date
are Berlin, 1770.

On Kazinczy see István Fried, Kazinczy Ferenc és a vitatott hagyomány [Kazinczy
and the Contested Tradition] (Sátoraljaújhely: Kazinczy Társaság, 2012); Ambrus Miskolczy,
Kazinczy Ferenc útja a nyelvújítástól a politikai megújulásig ([Kazinczy’s Progress from
Language Reform to Politican Reforms] (Budapest: Lucidus, 2009); Czigány Lóránt, A
History of Hungarian Literature. Chapter VII: “The Reform of the Language and irodalmi
tudat” (Oxford: OUP, 1984; online: http://mek.oszk.hu/02000/02042/html/index.html,
access: 2017-03-01).

On the Hungarian Rosicrucians of the 18th century see Sándor Eckhardt, “Magyar
rózsakeresztesek,” Minerva 1 (1922): 208–23, online: http://chemonet.hu/hun/olvaso/
histchem/alkem/eck.html, access: 2017-03-01.
From the interesting article of a bibliographer of 18th-century French

fiction, Vivienne Mylne, we learn that this “histoire intéeressante” did not
feature in the standard bibliographies, on the other hand, it can be found in
works specializing in Freemason literature. Caillet’s Manuel bibliographique
des sciences psychiques ou occultes (Paris, 1913) suggested the date of 1747.
Fesch’s Bibliographie de la Franc-Maçonnerie et des sociétés secrètes (Paris,
1912) indicates 1747 or 1750. August Wolfstieg’s famous Bibliographie der
Freimaurerischen Literatur (Burg, 1912) under No. 41487 gives the following
pieces of information: “Der neue Goldmacher, oder das wahre Geheimniss
der Freymäurer, von Mme. Gut, d.i. Beaumont. Berlin: Ringmacher, 1770.
198 S., 8o.” Here it is mentioned that there had also been “eine ungarische
Übersetzung erschien 1810,” that is Bárótzi’s translation.
Furthermore, Wolfstieg quoted Georg Kloss’ bibliography (Bibliographie
der Freimaurerei und der mit ihr in Verbindung gesetzten geheimen Gesellschaften,
Frankfurt am Main, 1844, No. 3949), who had discovered: “Blosser Abdruch
aus dem Abendzeitvertreib in verschiedenen Erzählungen. Leipzig, 1750. Theil
1. Nach der Vorrede von Nrv. 1912 wäre Madame Gut (Beaumont) die
Verfasserin.” Wolfstieg thought the London edition was the French translation
of the German original and dated it to 1777.
Vivienne Mylne convincingly argues that the London placename in
the French edition served only the deception of the censorship, since it was
common to pretend foreign publications to avoid the attention of the anti-
Freemason Catholic circles. And London, as one of the birthplaces of the
Masons was a very suitable camouflage. She has also managed to identify
the ornament on the title page with an edition of Voltaire’s Supplément
au Siècle de Louis XIV, which was published in Dresden in 1753. She has
also figured out that the first German edition of the Goldmacher in the
Abendzeitvertreib was not published in 1750 but in 1757.
The last important act of Mylne’s research was that she reconstructed the
chronology of the plot of the novel, since there are a number of references to
historical and contemporary events and places. From this she concluded that
the plot covers the period between 1706 and 1753. Thus the French original
could be published (in Dresden) around 1755, consequently preceding the
German translation of 1757. The second, German edition came out in Berlin
in 1770, while Wolfstieg’s speculative date of 1777 is simpy false.
Only one question remains: the identity of the author. Modern library
catalogues usually attribute it to Jeanne Marie Leprince de Beaumont
(1711–1780), and she is also mentioned as the author by Sándor Eckhardt,
who in 1922 wrote the first and so far only extensive study about Bárótzi’s

Vivienne G. Mylne, “The Bibliographer’s Last Resort: Reading the Text,” Eighteenth-
century Fiction 5.1 (1992): 1–14.
translation. Leprince de Beaumont was a successful writer of children’s

literature and fairy tales, among others the famous Beauty and the Beast.
Some of her works had also been published in contemporary Hungary.10
Madame de Beaumont left France to become a governess in London in
1748 and there begun her literary career. She kept contacts with the most
famous writers and philosophers of the Englightenment. Considering her
thirteen-year stay in England, the fictitious place of publication would be
no surprise.11 However, no scholarly literature mentions this novel among
the works of Leprince de Beaumont and indeed her literary output as well
as her philosophy rather differed from the masonic L’Adepte moderne. It is
also noteworthy, that Vivienne Mylne in her expert article does not mention
Marie Leprince de Beaumont, and instead writes: “I have not managed to
discover anything more about this author. However, the settings of most of
the events in the novel suggest a provincial rather than a Parisian writer; and
in Pierre Larousse’ s Grand dictionnaire universel du XIXe siècle, ‘Beaumont’
is said to be the ‘nom d’une des familles les plus anciennes du Dauphiné.’”
In any case it is quite surprising that Mylne, a professional bibliographer
of 18th-century French fiction would not know the name and oeuvre of
the author of The Beauty and the Beast. So the creator of The Modern Adept
continues to preserve his/her anonymity.
III
The next step is to review the plot of the novel.12 The sujet is quite complex
and it synthetizes a typical sentimental love story, a Bildungsroman, and an

Eckhardt Sándor, “Magyar rózsakeresztesek,” as cited above.

Actually, Leprince de Beaumont rewrote Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve’s
1740 novel and published in 1756 in Magasin des enfants. See Terri Windling, “Beauty
and the Beast, Old And New,” The Journal of Mythic Arts 1997–28, accessed May 8, 2017,
<http://www.endicott-studio.com/articleslist/beauty-and-the-beast-old-and-new-by-terri-
windling.html>
10
E.g. Kisdedek’ tudománnyal tellyes tárháza ... készitetett frantzia nyelven Beaumont
Mária által / mostan pedig magyar nyelvre fordittatott [Scientific Storehouse for Infants...]
(Kolos’váratt: a Ref. Kollégiom betüivel, 1781); Montier asszonynak a maga lányával ... közlött
tanuságos ... levelei ... / németből magyarázta ... Mészáros Ignátz [The Instructive Letters of
Madame Montier with her Daughter...] (Pest: Trattner Mátyás, 1793).
11
See the biographical sketch of P. Schaller Elliot, “Jeanne Marie Le Prince de
Beaumont (1711–1780): Biographical Essay for Chawton House Library and Women
Writers,” available: <www.academia.edu/2003603/Jeanne_Marie_Le_Prince_de_Beaumont_
1711-1780_Biographical_Essay_for_Chawton_House_Library_and_Women_Writers>,
access: 2016-05-16 and the monograph of Marie-Antoinette Reynaud, Madame Leprince de
Beaumont: Vie et oeuvre d’une Éducatrice (Lyon, n.p., 1971).
12
Apart from my own reading I rely here Vivienne Mylne’s chronology-oriented
summary as well as Sándor Eckhardt resume, which concentrated on the esoteric elements.
occult narrative referring to alchemy, the Freemasons and the Rosicrucians.

The work is the memoires of a young man who at the age of eighteen loses
his parents and a certain Monsieur de la Borde becomes his surrogate father
and mentor. De la Borde then adopts the name of the narrator’s father
and from now is called Monsieur de la Croix – obviously a reference to
Christian Rosenkreutz. It happens that the mentor is arrested and is taken
prisoner in an unknown place. His belongings are hooked and destroyed,
the Narrator finds only a small box of red powder in their lodgings. Much
later he remembers that his mentor once taught him how to kill pain with
the red powder. Having a toothache he melts a piecce of lead and mixes it
with the powder, which turns into pure gold.
Eventually he liberates his foster father from imprisonment who then
tells him that the powder originated from another gentleman, Monsieur de
Rancé, a Freemason, in appreciation of de la Croix’s charitable nature. De
Rancé had also instructed him in the secret arts of Freemasons, including
the secrets of alchemy. At this point it turns out that de la Croix is the Adept
of the title. The Adept and the Narrator flee to London, but they have to
return some time later. Eventually both marry, but with a tragic turn the
Adept and his wife get murdered. The Narrator remains without the secret
of alchemy, since the Adept never initiated him into actual goldmaking.
So he – a basically modest and benevolent person – continues his life
maintained by the remaining amount of red power.
An important message of the novel is that the true Adept has to be
humble, secretive, and magnanimous toward the needy, just like a true
Rosicrucian. The noble Philosopher is at the same time a Cosmopolite: a
cosmopolite, because carrying the secret he cannot stay at one place without
risking his life. As Mylne summarizes:
On the whole [the novel] is no better, and certainly no worse, than the
general run of modern soap operas and adventure serials, with which it
shares several points of resemblance. But unlike most of them, it manifests a
consistent ethical theme, that it is a duty to use one’s wealth for the benefit
of those in need. The Mason’s creed could be encapsulated in the motto:
Richesse oblige.13
IV
Turning now to the Hungarian edition, our focus of interest should be the
lengthy preface of the translator. The text is really an apology of alchemy
and reveals the extensive knowledge of its writer about the principles
13
Mylne, “The Bibliographer’s Last Resort,” 9.
and the historiography of the Art. As Sándor Eckhardt also summarized,

we receive a review of the classics of alchemy and esoteric philosophy,
ranging from Plato through Suidas and Hermes Trismegistus, to the Tabula
Smaragdina, the full text of which Bárótzi includes – unfortunately not in
Hungarian but in Latin.
He then turnst to the Oriental-Arabic wise men – Avicenna, Geber,
Moscius, Aros, Calid, Hali; then the Scholastics and other medieval
authors: St. Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, Raymondus Lullus, Arnoldus
de Villanova, Nicolas Flamel, George Ripley. He extensively quotes early
modern alchemical literture, often from recent German editions: e.g.
Bernhardus Trevisanus (1406–1490);14 the major works of Sendivogius
(1566–1636); Lenglet du Fresnoy’s Histoire de la philosophie herméteique
(Paris, 1742); Jean-Jacques Manget’s alchemical anthology (1702);15
Friedrich Roth-Scholtzen’s Deutsches Theatrum Chemicum (1728);16 etc.
This impressive bibliography demonstrates the vivid and versatile esoteric
publications in the time of rationalism and the Enlightenment.
But it is not only the range of the cited material which is noteworthy,
rather the structure of the “Introduction.” Bárótzi did not follow a
chronological, historical survey, instead starts from a practical supposition,
namely that presumably a lot of readers will think that alchemy is a
superstitious, stupid occupation. He then diligently enlists nine aspects
which summarize the main criticisms against hermeticism and alchemy.
In the rest of the preface he systematically refutes these points, using the
above sketched rich historiographical and practical material.
The nine objections are as follows: 1/ the gender/nature of things
cannot change; 2/ only Nature can produce gold taking the time of many
centuries, alchemists could not do it in days or even shorter periods; 3/ if
alchemy was true, kings who have invested so much into this art would
have invented it long ago; 4/ there are many who have become beggars
because of alchemy, but one cannot see those who have profited from it;
5/ if there are true alchemists, whoy don’t they help rulers in successfully
finish wars? 6/ alchemists have been usually very learned people, still, they
have not made any great [social] progress by its help; 7/ if somebody can
14
See Des Hn. Bernhardi, Grafen von der Marck und Tervis Chymische Schrifften, von
dem gebenedeiten Stein der Weisen. Aus dem Lateinischen ins Teutsche übersetzet, in gleichen mit
des Herrn D. Joachim Tanckens und anderer Gelehrten Anmerckungen Ans Liecht gestellet durch
Caspar Horn, Phil. & Med. Doctor (Nurnberg: Tauber, 1717, 1746). Eckhardt misinterpreted
the 15th-century Italian author as a contemporary German, “Graf Berhardi”.
15
Jean-Jacques Manget, Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, seu rerum ad alchemiam
pertinentium thesaurus instructissimus (2 vols., Paris,1702).
16
Friedrich Roth-Scholtzen, Deutsches Theatrum Chemicum. Auf welchen der berühmtesten
Philosophen und Alchymisten Schriften... (Nurnberg: Adam Jonathan Felsecker, 1728).
accomplish the transmutation, why does not he make it in public, this would
put an end to the gossips and suspicion about the validity of alchemy; 8/ it
is known that alchemists cheat by hiding gold into the coal or among other
ingredients and then pretend to have succeeded in the transmutation; 9/ a
lot of fraud was revealed and several alchemists were hanged or imprisoned
– so the whole art is cheating.
After honestly presenting the objections, Bárótzi deals with each of
them by citing philosophical and technical literature of the past centuries
as well as retelling many counter-anecdotes to prove the validity of
transmutations. These “historical facts” are often naive and hard to believe,
but here he follows the humanist traditions of citing ancient authorities
without questioning them. In any case, this “Introduction” is a valuable
document about the scholarly attraction of alchemy even in the period of
the Enlightenment and also proves that esotericism bore fruits in Hungarian
in this part of the Continent, too.
V
There is no place here to examine Bárótzi’s “Introduction” more in
detail, instead, let us have a look at the circumstances which may have
inspired the writing of this interesting treatise. It has been mentioned
that Bárótzi almost accidentally got in touch with esotericism in Vienna
withby the help of a doctor. However, it was not difficult to find a Masonic
lodge in the Habsburg capital. There was one in which the Hungarian
presence was very strong and many bodyguards were also members: titled
the Zur gekrönten Hoffnung (The Crowned Hope).17 It was a Hungarian,
Sámuel Matolay Bernát (Reichshofrats-Agent) who introduced there the
Rosicrucian trend and he also built a laboratory for transmutations where
the famous chemist, Ignaz Born worked for some time.18 Another famous
17
Literature on this lodge: Eckhardt, “Magyar rózsakeresztesek,” as in Note 6; Ludwig
Abafi, Geschichte der Freimaurerei in Österreich-Ungarn I–V. (Budapest: Aigner, 1890–99),
especially vol 4; Lajos Abafi, A szabadkőművesség története Magyarországon [The History
of Freemasonry in Hungary] (repr. Győr: Tarandus, 2012); Heinrich Boos, Geschichte Der
Freimaurerei: Ein Beitrag Zur Kultur- Und Literatur-Geschichte Des 18 Jahrhunderts (Aarau:
H.R.Sauerländer, 1906, rept. Ulan Press, 2012), 299, 353.
18
See Eckhardt and Abafi. Furthermore: “Ignaz Edler von Born (Hungarian: Born
Ignác, Czech: Ignác Born, 1742-–1791) was a mineralogist and metallurgist. He was a
prominent freemason, being head of Vienna’s Illuminati lodge and an influential anti-
clerical writer. He was the leading scientist in the Holy Roman Empire during the 1770s in
the age of Enlightenment.” (Wikipedia)
alchemist of the Lodge was Count Kolowrat and even Mozart got in contact
with them when he was asked to compose The Magic Flute.19
In the Vienna Nationalbibliothek there survived a beautiful
manuscript, an Album amicorum of one local Masonic lodge. Among the
74 inscriptions about 20 were authored by Hungarian members. The most
famous inscription is by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who in 1787 called for
patience and spiritual peace, signing himself as the member of Zur gekrönten
Hoffnung!20 This Lodge was the gathering place of most Hungarian army
officers and Bodyguard-literati, including Count Pál Bethlen colonel, László
Székely lieutenant colonel, Major János Soóky, Count János Esterházy
Imperial Councillor, and many others. Among these we find our translator,
Sándor Bárótzi. There he could educate himself in the secret sciences, since
the Lodge prided with a 1900-volume specialized esoteric library.21
The mentioned literary potentate, Ferenc Kazinczy was a close
friend of Bárótzi. He warmly praised his literary elegance as well as his
magnanimous personality. But he, as a unswerving rationalist, could not
help pitying him for his esoteric “delusion.” Nevertheless, he devoted many
letters to the Hungarian “illuminati” in his various correspondence. About
himself he claimed that although a Freemason member, it was not the
mysticism, rather the philanthropy that attracted him to the movement and
never aimed to get higher than the first three degrees. Nevertheless, his
writings are a goldmine of anecdotes about esotericism in Enlightenment
Hungary. His father in law, Count Lajos Török was a devoted alchemist
and Rosicrucian. He established lodges in Miskolc and Kassa (Košice,
Slovakia). Since the research of Lajos Abafi we have known that there were
a great number of Masonic and Rosicrucian circles in Hungary who closely
cooperated with the Grand Lodge of Berlin and later with the newly created
Grand Lodge of Vienna. A particularly important place was Eperjes (today
Prešov, Slovakia), where the Freemasons converted to the Rosicrucian rules.
This lodge was exceptional, because it was not founded as a subordinate
19
Boos, Geschichte Der Freimaurerei, 353. (See Note 17)
20
Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. Ser. nov. 4832. The name of the
Lodge is not indicated in the manuscript. See József László Kovács, “Egy szabadkőműves
emlékkönyv magyar bejegyzői [Hungarian Inscribers in a Freemason Album],” Magyar
Könyvszemle 91 (1975): 309-–13.
21
On Bárótzi’s membership see József Jászberényi, “A Sz. Sophia Templomában látom
én felszentelve Nagyságodat.” A felvilágosodás korának mgyar irodalma és a szabadkőművesség
[Hungarian Literature of the Englishtenment and Freemasonry] (Budapest: Argumentum,
2003), Abafi, A szabadkőművesség, 122, 127-–29; also Eckhardt. (See Note 17)
lodge of the Berlin or Vienna lodges, but as an offspring of the Warsaw

Grand Lodge in Poland.22
One particularly interesting portion of Kazinczy’s correspondence is
with Ádám Pálóczi Horváth (1760-–1820), who was an eccentric Hungarian
gentry, a graduated theologian, writer of epic and lyrical poetry, an
accomplished mathematician, and deeply interested in the secret sciences. At
one point he was given a manuscript, titled The Wisdomn of Hiram, from a dying
German officer and he spent the rest of his life in trying to decipher it.23 This
inspired him to compose such (now lost) treatises as Novissima Philosophia
in Hungarian and Hungarian Sybilla, or a Concise Caballa. He exchanged long
letters with Kazinczy in which he regretted not to have had more chance to
confer with his father in law (Lajos Török), or Sándor Bárótzi.
Pálóczi’s ten pages’ letter to Kazinczy (October 8, 1814) gives a
vivid panorama about his esoteric interests ranging from the philosophy
of Hermes Trismegistus to the contemporary experiments of Benjamin
Franklin with electricity. He also refers to a friend who had seen at Bárótzi’s
house “white, green, and blue” pieces of gold, what he associates with a
universal menstruum, identical with what the ancients called spiritus.24
These few, selected pieces of historical information prove that
Bárótzi’s translation and his personal interest in alchemy and Masonry was
not an idiosyncratic hobby, but can be contextualized in a vivid network
of Hungarian and Austrian Rosicrucian and Freemason culture as well as
at that time still existing interest in alchemy. These Central-Europeans
cultivated a centuries-long esoteric tradition and their activities bridge
the “shadowy side” of the Enlightenment and the revived occultism of
the Romantic period. It is characteristic, that the fundamental studies of
Hungarian esotericism of this period were written in the late 19th- early 20th
century with the methodology of positivist historiography. It is high time
that we revisit these cultural phenomena with a fresh eye and place them
in a new history of the Western esoteric traditions.
References
Abafi, Lajos. A szabadkőművesség története Magyarországon. (repr). Győr: Tarandus, 2012.
Abafi, Ludwig. Geschichte der Freimaurerei in Österreich-Ungarn I–V. Budapest:
Aigner, 1890–99.
22
Abafi, A szabadkőművesség története, 36-–39 (see Note 17); László Szathmáry,
Magyar alkémisták [Hungarian alchemists] (Budapest, 1928; rpt. Budapest: Könyvértékesítő,
1986), 129-–50.
23
László Szathmáry, Magyar alkémisták, 208-–13 (see Note 22).
24
Ádám Horváth to Ferenc Kazinczy, 1814 October 10. In The Correspondence of
Ferenc Kazinczy, ed. János Váczy, Vol. 12: 1814-–1815 (Budapest: MTA, 1902).
[Bernardus Trevisanus; Caspar Horn]. Des Hn. Bernhardi, Grafen von der Marck
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Tanckens und anderer Gelehrten Anmerckungen Ans Liecht gestellet durch Caspar
Horn, Phil. & Med. Doctor. Nurnberg: Tauber, 1717, 1746.
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Jászberényi, József. “A Sz. Sophia Templomában látom én felszentelve Nagyságodat.”
A felvilágosodás korának mgyar irodalma és a szabadkőművesség Budapest:
Argumentum, 2003.
Kazinczy, Ferenc. The Correspondence of Ferenc Kazinczy, ed. János Váczy, Vol. 12:
1814–1815. Budapest: MTA, 1902.
Kisdedek’ tudománnyal tellyes tárháza ... készitetett frantzia nyelven Beaumont Mária
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betüivel, 1781.
Kontler, László. Millenium in Central Europe: A History of Hungary. London:
Palgrave, Macmillan, 2002.
Kosáry, Domokos. Culture and Society in Eighteenth-century Hungary. Budapest:
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Könyvszemle 91 (1975): 309–13.
Manget, Jean-Jacques. Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, seu rerum ad alchemiam
pertinentium thesaurus instructissimus 2 vols. Paris, 1702.
Miskolczy, Ambrus. Kazinczy Ferenc útja a nyelvújítástól a politikai megújulásig.
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Montier asszonynak a maga lányával ... közlött tanuságos ... levelei ... / németből
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century Fiction 5 (1992): 1–14.
Pál Pándi ed., A magyar irodalom története III. Budapest: Akadémiai, 1965.
Reynaud Marie-Antoinette. Madame Leprince de Beaumont: Vie et oeuvre d’une
Éducatrice. Lyon, n.p., 1971.
Roth-Scholtzen Friedrich. Deutsches Theatrum Chemicum. Auf welchen der
berühmtesten Philosophen und Alchymisten Schriften... Nurnberg: Adam
Jonathan Berhardi, 1728–1732.
Schaller Elliot P. “Jeanne Marie Le Prince de Beaumont (1711-–1780): Biographical

Essay for Chawton House Library and Women Writers. Accessed May
16, 2016. www.academia.edu/2003603/Jeanne_Marie_Le_Prince_de_
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and_Women_Writers
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beauty-and-the-beast-old-and-new-by-terri-windling.html
061.236.6(4)
050.48”17”
Martin Javor*
University of Presov
Freemasonry Magazines in Central Europe

in the 18th Century
The Masonic movement represents an interesting phenomenon of the

second half of the 18th century history of Central Europe. The movement was
not an original, domestic element in the Habsburg Monarchy. It penetrated
into the monarchy with foreign, Bavarian-Saxon-French troops during the
War of the Austrian Succession in the 1740s. This fact played an important
role in the movement’s domestification, in the building of its structures
and in fact influenced the attitude of the royal court towards Freemasonry
throughout the 18th century. Since Freemasonry came to the monarchy
mostly from countries not in favour of the policies of Maria Theresa, this
fact influenced also the foreign policy of the monarchy in the 18th century.
The “foreign” position of Freemasonry therefore resulted in the necessity
of the monarchy to control the movement, which was related to the policy
of the court towards the movement as a whole. Despite the complicated
international relations in Central Europe in the 18th century, we can say
that the national interest and state control of Freemasons was incomplete
and such monitoring did not fall within the main objectives of the police’s
apparatus. The state police in fact had stiff competition in monitoring
Freemasons – the Catholic Church. For that reason, the monitoring of
Freemasons was double – by state and church. At the outset, it must be said
that the church was more consistent.
The relationship of the state apparatus to the Masonic movement is
hard to define. Despite the circumstances under which it penetrated into the
monarchy, the movement had no serious problems with public authorities
in the Habsburg Monarchy until the 1790s.
* javor@unipo.sk

For more on the relationship between the court and Freemasonry see: Ludwig Abafi,
A szabadkömüvesség és az uralkodóház (Freemasonry and the reigning family) Budapest:
Aigner Lajos, 1896).
92 Martin Javor
The relationship of Empress Maria Theresa to Freemasonry was not

easy to define. Her husband Francis of Lorraine joined the lodge in The
Hague in 1731 and was a member of the First Vienna Lodge since 1742.
Since Freemasonry entered the Habsburg Monarchy under the protection of
foreign, especially French-Bavarian-Saxon armies, which were supposed to
support the Elector Charles Albert of Bavaria in 1741 on the Czech throne
against Maria Theresa, the Empress could not support the Masonic movement
and on October 8, 1766 issued the decree of the court, declaring any official
who would become a member of the Masonic or Rosicrucian organizations
suspended from office. The decree was the result of the anti-Prussian
policy of Maria Theresa. Since the Prussian King Frederick II supported the
establishment and functioning of the Masonic lodges, the Empress adopted
a hostile stance towards them. It should be noted, however, that no evidence
of any officers removed from office has been preserved. Still, the movement
in the monarchy was very little developed in the 1760s.
State power and the royal court were in the beginnings against the
nature of Freemasonry. The movement was not secret, as evidenced by the
large amount of archival material from the 1780s. It was merely “closed,”
which evoked a variety of allegations of “unfair” activities. No conspiracy
theories, however, have been confirmed so far.
Several changes came to happen in the Masonic movement after
Joseph II ascended the throne. The stance of Joseph II to Freemasonry was
initially favourable. Nevertheless, he felt uneasy when the lodges of the
monarchy turned for their written confirmations to Berlin and drew from
there their rituals. For this reason, the emperor issued a decree on March
26, 1781, by which secular and religious organizations were prohibited to
comply with foreign institutions and to pay them any cash benefits.
In fact, Freemasonry had not created a unified organization structure
in the monarchy until 1784. There existed no unified subordination of all the
monarchy’s lodges. Lodges had their mother lodges outside the monarchy,
which caused major problems. Therefore, an important moment in the
history of the structure of the movement was the creation of the “National
Grand Lodge of Austrian States” on April 24, 1784, which represented the
four newly created provincial lodges in different countries of the monarchy.

Lajos Abafi, A szabadkömüvesség és az uralkodóház (Budapest: Aigner Lajos, 1896), 5.

Jiří Beránek, Tajemství lóží (Secret of lodges ) (Prague: Mladá fronta, 1994), 83.

Oberösterreichisches Landesarchiv (OÖLA), Wien: Patentsammlung Krackowizer,
vol. 189, no. 93.

Haus, Hof und Staadtsarchiv (HHStA), Wien, Vertrauliche Akten 63, fol. pp. 17–19.

Magyar országos levéltár (MOL), Budapest, P 1134, 3. csomó, I. tétel. 18. A Festetics
család dégi levéltarának anyagából összegyüjtött másolatok, feljegzyések. Bd. 30/1, fol. pp.
96–135.
Freemasonry Magazines in Central Europe in the 18th Century 93
These were the Austrian, Czech, Hungarian and Transylvanian provincial

lodges. This way, a new organizational structure of the movement in the
monarchy was created; each lodge had to come under the National Grand
Lodge of Austrian States through its provincial lodge. An annulment of the
then capitulary and prefectural representation of the lodges in the monarchy
took place and a completely new system of the movement’s organization
was created. It was a step towards the empowerment of Freemasonry in
the country, even though politically it mainly meant a rupture of ties with
mother lodges.
The next major organizational change in the Masonic movement of
the Habsburg Monarchy came in 1785. A cabinet letter by Joseph II decreed
that, from January 1, 1786, only major provincial cities of the monarchy
may host Masonic lodges, while restricting them to three lodges per city.
According to one of the regulations, a list of members of the lodges was to
be submitted annually, along with the names of the Grand Masters.
Joseph II wanted to use the Masonic movement, according to the
Prussian model, to promote his national and dynastic interests. In this
respect, Freemasonry was a disappointment for him. Although the lodges
ceased to depend on their foreign ties by establishing their own national
organization, their attitude towards the Emperor’s efforts to install the
representatives of the government into the functions of provincial Grand
Masters was averse. The Emperor’s plans to involve the Masonic element
in some of his political plans failed as well, including the idea of replacing
Bavaria for the Habsburg Netherlands. Not all the lodges in the monarchy
understood this Masonic patent as anti-Masonic, some considered it
to be an inevitable step towards the protection of the movement and an
“act of purification” of various radical or less radical offshoots within the
movement.
After the outbreak of the French Revolution, fear of Freemasonry
spread throughout Europe. The movement was considered one of the
inspirers of the revolution and a possible “wellspring of the revolutionary
disease” which threatened to spread it to the rest of Europe. The situation
of the movement in the Habsburg monarchy early after the outbreak of the
revolution did not look bad. Not only were there no collective secessions of
the members of the lodges after the ascension of Leopold II to the throne in
1790 due to the alleged government persecution, but quite on the contrary,
a last short period of the Masonic development took place, ending with the
premature death of Leopold in March 1792.

Haus, Hof und Staadtsarchiv (HHStA), Wien, Protokollbuch der Handbillets, 916–920.

Jiří Beránek, Tajemství lóží (Prague: Mladá fronta, 1994), 104.
94 Martin Javor
Emperor Leopold II intended to build a modern secret service. Its aim

was to obtain the intellectual elite of the monarchy for secret cooperation
with the sovereign without compromising the imperial majesty. This activity
primarily consisted of gathering intelligence which would convey to Leopold
the moods of the population. In the area of the Masonic policies, Leopold’s
interest was from the beginning focused mainly on those lodges which, due
to their state-forming attitudes, could be gained for government interests.
He tried to get the Freemasons under a single management dedicated to the
sovereign.
Leopold’s sudden death on April 1, 1792 and the assassination of
Swedish King Gustav III shortly afterwards meanwhile further supported
the rumours of the Masonic practices of kindling the revolution. There was
a radical shift in the Vienna government policy towards Freemasonry, which
was not caused only by the changes on the throne and at the top of the
state apparatus, but also by the sharpening of the situation in France and,
from the point of view of Vienna, by an increased danger of revolutionary
infection in central Europe. The regime of Francis I, who saw the “scarecrow”
of the revolution in everything which had once boasted with the stamp of
enlightenment and progressivism, supranational cosmopolitanism and
egalitarianism, could hardly continue to suffer similar institutions. The
fact that the lodge communities did not act suspiciously was in itself very
suspicious to the regime. In France, meanwhile, the Jacobin dictatorship
peaked and the Austrian intervention armies were going through one
defeat after another. The developments were going towards the ban of the
Masonic movement by Francis II in 1795.
During my explorations of the Masonic movement, I met with several
specific problems. The first was the need to apply rigorous criticism of
sources and literature. The need for criticism to the sources and secondary
literature is a result of the nature of the Masonic movement and its position
in history. On the one hand, there is a glorification of the movement by
authors coming directly from Masonic lodges, on the other hand stand
the condemnation and denigration of the movement from amongst its
opponents with a negative relationship to Freemasonry.
Another particularity which complicates the research is a problem
of source material reading. Masons in Hungary often wrote secret letters,
which only they could decipher. The reconstruction of such writings is then
possible only on the basis of the correspondence of the individual members
and not with complete accuracy. The Masons in their meetings often used
Masonic names, which makes the association to their civic names often
impossible. The reconstruction of the history of the movement is therefore
both difficult and interesting. Another problem is the incompleteness
of preserved documents. Besides the central archives of the Masonic
movement, we learn about the movement only from the correspondence of

its members or from their family archives.
The research of the history of the Masonic movement in the Habsburg
Monarchy brings with it a number of other problems. Freemasonry had and
still has its specific and often secret nature, members of the lodges often
hid written materials from non-members. Meeting with numerous bans of
the movement, its members destroyed a number of documents to make sure
that they could not be used as evidence of the membership in the lodges.
From the beginning of the Freemasonry movement, magazine
publicationbelonged to the main forms of its presentation. German
Freemasons considered education and enlightenment activities to be one of
the most important ways to spread the enlightenment. In the 18th century,
different Freemasonry magazines or magazines supported by Freemasons
were published in all parts of the monarchy. There was ” published in
Vienna, Prager Gelehrte Nachrichten in Prague, Mährische Magazine in Brno
and magazine Orpheus in Košice.
Journal für Freimaurer (Magazine for Freemasons) was the
organizational and correspondence headquarters of the lodges in the
Josephine time. It was published quarterly from January 1784 till the
end of 1786 and consisted mostly of lectures delivered within the lodge.
The magazine was issued by members of the Viennese lodge “Zur Wahren
Eintracht” (To the True Harmony) and was not intended for people outside
the lodge. Its primary purpose was to improve the self-knowledge of the
Freemasons. That is the reason why the main editor of the magazine, Ignac
Born, focused mainly on the articles dealing with secret societies and
mysteries in history. He was looking for any possible similarities with the
Freemasonry movement. The result of these efforts was the publication of
the lecture “On the Mysteries of the Egyptians” published already in the first
issue of the magazine. The essays like “The Analogy between Christianity
and Freemasonry in the Early Times”10 and “History of Pythagorean
Communities”11 were of the same nature.
The other category included the articles about the organization
of the movement, such as the article “On the Ceremony” and “On the

Journal für Freimaurer 1 (1784): 15–134. Ignác Born justifies these articles in the
following way: “Love and honouring of our order were those that inspired us to seek the
most remote traces of its emergence and any of the occasional similarities of the order to the
secretive societies of all the times and nations; Phoenicians, Egyptians, Persians, Indians,
Greeks and Romans, reports on the mysteries of the Christians and the Middle Ages.” Ignac
Born is the author of the contribution “On the Mystery of Inds”, which was published later.
In: Journal für Freymaurer 4 (1784), 5–54.
10
Journal für Freymaurer 2 (1784), 5–64.
11
Journal für Freymaurer 1 (1785), 3–28.
96 Martin Javor
Freemasonic Oath”12. Some of the poems were dedicated to the internal

system of the movement, for example Blumauer’s poems “Confession
of Faith by a Seeker after Truth”13 and “Freemason’s Prayers.”14. Poems
published in the magazine in 1786 were mostly related to the controversial
Freemasonic patent by Joseph II15 such as: “About the Emperor Joseph II’s
Patent of Toleration of Freemasons,” “Joseph the Second, the Defender of
the Freemasonic Order” and “Joy of the Freemasons and Leon’s Feelings
about Freemasonry in the Hereditary Countries and its Publicly Secured
Protection”.
The journal dealt with political issues as well. In the third issue from
1784, in the Freemasonic news section, the exact text of the “Regulations
of the Bavarian Prince against Secret Meetings from 22 June 1784”16 was
published. “The Contributions to the History of Persecution of Freemasonry
and Enlightenment in Bavaria”17 were published in the second issue of the
magazine. The magazine also reported on the persecution of Freemasonic
movement in the Venetian Republic. The Measure of Ingolstadt University
was published in February 1785 blaming the founder of the Illuminati
order A. Weishaupt of misusing his position.18 The journal thus served
for the defence of the Freemasonic movement mainly advocated by the
contributions of Ignatius Born. His articles illustrated his pride in belonging
to the order.19
Another key organizer of the magazine, poet Aloys Blumauer, was
the editor of the magazine and was also in charge of sales. The journal was
therefore promoted among all the lodges in the monarchy. Aloys Blumauer
tried to spread the magazine to all countries of the monarchy. In 1784,
Journal für Freimaurer informed about the establishment of the “Austrian
provincial grand lodge”. The Masonic reports analysed the steps of
unification in detail. The magazine served as an important communication
and organizational tool.
Ignatius Born was undoubtedly the main organizer of the educational
activities of Freemasonic movement in the monarchy. He arrived in Prague
in the autumn of 1770. According to Born, philanthropic Freemasonry
organizations were an important social base for wider communication of
the Enlightenment intellectuals with the outer world. Ignatius Born became
12
Journal für Freimaurer 2 (1784), 105–154.
13
14
15
Journal für Freimaurer, 1 (1786), 143–170.
16
17
18
Journal für Freimaurer, 2 (1785), 297.
19
one of the most important personalities of Freemasonic life. Thanks to his

extensive contacts, new schools of thought were brought to provincial
Prague. I. Born became a central figure in establishing the direct historical
predecessor of the Academy of Sciences – the Private Learned Society of
Sciences, which was later promoted by Leopold II to the Royal Bohemian
Society of Sciences. In the scientific world I. Born was famous mainly for
his amalgamated silver production technology.
Freemasonic presence was noticeable in the Private Learned Society
of Sciences from the beginning of its activities. In the years 1771–1772,
its founder and administrator, Ignatius Born, published the Prager
Gelehrte Nachrichten20 (Prague Learned News) which included scholarly
contributions of the members of the Private Society. The reasons which led
I. Born to issue such a magazine were interesting. In the introduction to
the first issue, he highlights the “infamous neglect of learning the history
of our country.” Publishers had a tendency to claim that “this prejudice and
these blaming judgments” existed because of the shortage of the domestic
scholarly journals and the fact that “books printed here were not known
everywhere as they deserved.” Therefore, “the company of learned men
resolved to review and report all works published in our Austrian States in
the scholarly news.”21
Up from 1772, the Prager Gelehrte Nachrichten was no longer
published and were from 1775 to 1784 replaced by “einer Abhandlungen
Privatgesellschaft in Bohemia, Aufnahme zur Mathematik der, der
Geschichte und der vaterländischen Naturgeschichte” (Treatise of the
private company in Bohemia, in mathematics, history, natural science and
homeland).22 An interesting contribution by Rafael Ungar about the history
of libraries in the country even tried to prove the Church of Corpus Christi
in Prague was founded by Freemasons.23
20
The Prager Gelehrte Nachrichten was a critical literary weekly. Its publisher was the
Freemason Wolfgang Gerle in Prague; there is no person named in the magazine, neither the
editor nor the individual reviewers.
21
Jiří Kalousek, Děje české královské společnosti nauk (Activities of the Czech royal
society of sciences) (Prague, 1885), 17.
22
All of the six volumes of Pojednania were published by Ignác Born, despite his
movement to Vienna in 1776. “Pojednania” were also published by another Freemason
named Wolfgang Gerle.
23
Rafael Ungar (1743–1807), a Czech cleric, an Enlightenment thinker and a historian
of German origin. Between the years 1771–1773, he was a library and a Premonstratensian
monastery’s numismatic cabinet in Prague – Strahov administrator. He was a philosophy,
science, mathematics and theology teacher. In October 1780, he was appointed the Prague
University Library administrator. The effort to compile all the Czech books by Ungar was
recognised by the Czech patriots. Between the years 1786 and 1788, he was a dean of the
Faculty of Arts and in 1789–1790 the rector of the university. Although, originally from
98 Martin Javor
Thanks to Ignatius Born, some natural history works of Prague

scientists from the Private learned society of Sciences were printed in
the science journal published by the Vienna lodge called “Zur Wahren
Eintracht” (To the True Concord). The publisher of scholarly writings,
the Freemason Wolfgang Gerlach, appears in the list of members of the
lodge “Union” as a Grand Master. A member of the Private Learned society,
professor of political science at the University of Prague Jozef Bucek, who
proposed the agrarian reform, was also a member of the lodge called “Zu
den drei gekrönten Säulen” (To the three crowned pillars).
In Moravia, the situation with the Freemasons was different from the
rest of the monarchy. Freemasons here were divided into two diametrically
opposed lodges. The spread of awareness and magazines were in the agenda
of the Illuminati. The result of their first activity was the establishment of
a Brno reading society. “The Brno Lectur Cabinet” was established already
in 1785. The main credit for its creation belongs to Viktor Riecke, who
founded it with the publisher Göschenen and two other members of the
lodge (Emanuel Traubenburg and Nicholas Rösler).24 Arnold wrote about
the establishment: “What I hear about the reading society, is a novelty for
me. Good! I wish you would succeed! Together with the Lodge!” Later on
in March 1785 he adds that it is an excellent means of how to educate
young people in the spirit of the Enlightenment: ”... you must use this
opportunity and educate people! However, you must ensure the discretion
of the brothers.”25
After the collapse of the secret union of the Illuminati, reading
societies became a haven for mostly former Illuminati, who continued their
activities. That was the significance of this company for Moravia. Everything
was organized by Viktor Riecke, who collected books and managed the
correspondence. In a 1786 letter he noted that the Reading Society takes
all of his free time.26 Other Freemasons helped as well. Arnold was in charge
of borrowing books from the library of the manor house Rychnov above
a German family, Ungar belonged to the leading Czech patriots of his days. Czech culture
and its history was also the topic of the five of his scientific studies published in the annual
volumes of the Czech Society of Sciences, of which he was an active member.
24
Zdeněk Šimeček, „Pújčovny knih a čtenářské společnosti v českých zemích a jejich
púsobení do roku 1848,” (Lending libraries and reading societies in the Czech countries
until 1948) Československý časopis historický 37 (1981), 63–88.
25
Moravský zemský archiv (MZA), Brno, G 13 Zbierka rukopisov Nemeckého
historického spolku, kartón 591 korešpondencia Riecke–Arnold.
26
historického spolku, kartón 591.
Kněžna, Antonio Belcredi circulated the apologia of Adam Weishaupt, the

Illuminati union organizer.27
The reading society was the interconnection of the former Illuminati
with other enlighteners in Moravia. It resembled a semiprivate Freemasonic
library. It had a great impact on the dissemination of knowledge in Moravia,
because its members were able to read a number of political magazines,
mostly German but also the French Moniteur.
Riecke’s interest was also aimed at charity care. He wanted to
establish a support association for workers in the Brno manufactory.
Several reluctant members of the nobility argued that it was a matter of
manufacture owners, which blocked this attempt. Riecke gained a wider
support by issuing of the weekly magazine at the turn of 1785–86, whose
proceeds would be donated to the poor people of Brno. The magazine was
called Brünner Wochenschrift zum Besten der Armen (Brno Weekly Magazine
to the Best of the Poor), but only nine issues were released. The content of
the weekly magazine aimed to satisfy mainly Brno’s “Honoratiores” layer.
It included articles on economics, health and culture.28
The Masons in Brno in 1789 started to publish the magazine
“Mährisches Magazin”. The program introduction from March 1st, 1789
says that the magazine is designed not only for fun, but wants to teach
about the natural and political history of Moravia, about its location and
the Constitution, about historical and unique sights and to serve as a
helping tool for future historians, naturalists and surveyors.29 The program
emphasized the freedom of thought. The journal published articles on
history, economics, statistics, geography and natural science. Despite the
noble goals, the magazine didn’t have a great response. Only three issues
were published, of which the last one was re-printed in 1792 and re-issued
again with a different title in 1805. Proceeds from sales were donated to
humanitarian purposes.
Freemasonry was active also in Hungaria. The city of Košice was
unique in the establishment of journals. There was a lodge in Košice in the
1890s. It was called Zur ungefährdeten Tugend (To the Fearless Virtues).
According to L. Abafi, it had already 34 members in 1793.30 The lodge is
27
Jiří Kroupa, Alchymie štěstí (Alchemy of hapiness) (Brno: Era, 1987), 85.
28
Jaromír Kubíček and Zdeněk Šimeček, Brněnské noviny a časopisy od doby nejstarší
až do r. 1975 (Brno newspapers and magazines since the oldes era up to 1975) (Brno:
Universittni Knihovna, 1976), 254.
29
The proposal for the magazine publishing can be found in Moravský zemský archive
(MZA) Brno, Rodinný Archív Mittrovských, kartón 46.
30
The Grand Master was the Head of the Education Count Ľudovít Török , the Deputy-
Head was bailie Daniel Dobay, some of the members include a town doctor Jozef Viczay,
senator and businessman Samuel Fried, bailie Fülöp. Amongst others was also Gašpar Stetz,
100 Martin Javor
also mentioned by Francis Kazinczy on July 28th, 1794, when he informs

the lodge “Zur Vereinigung” in Budapest about reopening of the lodge in
Košice.31 In particular, the participation of Count Louis Török32 shows that
it was the lodge of the progressive nobility and burgesses. The Hungarian
writer Francis Kazinczy was the most important member of the lodge. He
published a Freemasonry magazine in Košice called the Orpheus, which was
also his Freemasonic name.33
The Orpheus magazine, which was published by Francis Kazinczy
using the pseudonym Széphalmy Wintze, focused on all the areas of life
in Hungaria at that time. It contained literary, political, philosophical
and poetic contributions. It was written mostly in Hungarian, but it also
included German, French and Latin texts, which were then translated into
Hungarian.
The first issue of the magazine for example included the Reinis’
translation of Vergilius, geographical description of the road from Miskolc
to Košice34, translations of Hamlet, Diogenes and Rousseau. It also contained
the poem “The Air around Košice”35. The next issue contained Lessing’s
poems, a travel guide to Jager (Eger), but also the “Ode to the Ceremony
of the Transfer of the Hungarian Crown into Its Homeland.” The magazine
also contained political discussions, like the comparison of the forms of
administration in England and Hungaria, but also “The Description of
the Wild Man Found in 1781 near the Town of Brasov.”36 The wide range
of this magazine proves the maturity of the intelligence in Košice. In the
Orpheus, members of the intelligentsia introduced the idea of a new type
of state and demonstrated it on the development in England, France and
a locksmith from Prešov, based on which we may deduce that the Lodge would organise its
meetings also in Prešov. In: Lajos Abafi, Szabadkömüvesség története Magyarországon (History
of Freemasonry in Hungary) (Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 1993), 342.
31
Kazinczy Ferenc levelezése. (Correspondence) XXIII., Budapest 1960, Kazinczy – a
pesti Vereinigung szabadkömüves páholynak. p. 38. Kazinczy introduces Jozef Viczay as a
Grand Master, as Masters he lists Samuel Fried and Peter Neumány. Ötvös was an assistent,
Heinzeli a controller, other members were Daniel Dobay and Erazmus Schröt.
32
Count Lajos Török was the principal head of schools in Košice and the leading
activist of Ratia educationis through the subordinated school inspectors, head masters and
professors. Török is the author of the two works of political publicist work – Dissertatio
statistica de potestate exequente regis Angliae (Kassa, 1790) and Conspectus regiminis
formae regnorum Angliae et Hungariae (Kassa, 1790).
33
Ferencz Kazinczy also entered the lodge „Zum tugendhaften cosmopoliten” in
Miskolc in 1784. In.: Lajos Abafi, Kazinczy Ferencz mint szabadkömüves (Kazinczy Ferencz as
a freemason) (Budapest, 1879), 14.
34
The guide pinpoints the fact that a traveller to Košice firstly sees the cemetery and
the bell tower, it takes 1173 steps from the upper Košice gate to the lower Košice gate, etc.
35
Orpheus 1 (1790).
36
Orpheus 3 (1790).
the Netherlands. In particular, the English political situation served as

a reference point for the establishment of a new form of government in
Hungary.37 The magazine brought a series of articles about the government
in England and Hungary, Rousseau’s file on the government in Poland38 and
a particularly lengthy treatise dealing with the question of whether to repeal
old laws and establish new ones. It also included the contribution about the
life of Voltaire, highlighting the influence of Locke’s philosophy. There were
translated passages of Voltaire’s epic La Henriade cited in the magazine. The
article called “Warning by the One Who Loves His Homeland” signed by
Joseph Darvas, a counsellor of the governor Council, warned that a bloody
revolution took place in France. He expected the Council to make a first
step towards the transformation of feudalism into the new social order.39
He expected the Council to deal with the challenge of solving the issues
of forms of political power and suggested a compromise between gentry,
nobility and peasantry according to the bloodless revolution in England.
The Freemasons’ main contribution to the educational activities
was the establishment of journals. Whether the Magazine for Freemasons,
Orpheus, Prague Learned News, Treatise of the Learned Society” or Moravian
Magazine, each of these journals contributed to the dissemination of
knowledge and awareness in the monarchy. All of them either emerged
directly from the Freemasonic lodges, or have been sponsored by them.
References
Abafi, Lajos. A szabadkömüvesség és az uralkodóház. Budapest: Aigner, 1896.
_______ Kazinczy Ferencz mint szabadkömüves. Budapest 1879.
_______Szabadkömüvesség története Magyarországon. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó,
1993.
Beránek, Jiří. Tajemství lóží. Prague: Mladá fronta, 1994.
Kalousek, Jiří. Děje české královské společnosti nauk. Prague, 1885.
Kazinczy, Ferenc, Levelezése. XXIII. Budapest: Magyar Tudományos Akadémia, 1960.
Kroupa, Jiří. Alchymie štěstí. Brno: Era, 1987.
Kubíček Jaromír and Zdeněk Šimeček, Brněnské noviny a časopisy od doby nejstarší
až do r. 1975. Brno: Universittni Knihovna, 1976.
Šimeček, Zdeněk. Pújčovny knih a čtenářské společnosti v českých zemích a jejich
púsobení do roku 1848. Československý časopis historický 79 (1981): 63.
37
Orpheus 1 (1790), 327–342.
38
Orpheus 1 (1790), 90–99.
39
Orpheus 2 (1790), 41–67, 312–354.
102 Martin Javor
Periodicals:
Journal für Freymaurer 1–4 (1784)
Journal für Freymaurer 1 (1785)
Orpheus 1–3 (1790)
Archives:
historického spolku, kartón 591 korešpondencia Riecke–Arnold.
Moravský zemský archiv (MZA), Brno, Rodinný Archív Mittrovských, kartón 46.
Oberösterreichisches Landesarchiv (OÖLA), Wien, Patentsammlung Krackowizer,
Hs. 189, Nr. 93.
Haus Hof und Staatsarchiv (HHStA), Wien, Vertrauliche Akten 63, fol. 17–19.
Magyar Országos Levéltár (MOL) Budapest, P 1134, 3. csomó, I. tétel. 18. A Festetics
család dégi levéltarának anyagából összegyüjtött másolatok, feljegzyések.
Bd. 30/1, fol. 96–135.
Haus Hof und Staatsarchiv (HHStA), Wien, Protokollbuch der Handbillets, 916–920.
821.163.41.09-12 Petrović Njegoš P. II
Nemanja Radulović*
Faculty of Philology, Belgrade
Esotericism, Orthodoxy and Romanticism

in P. Petrović Njegoš’s The Ray of the
Microcosm
Petar II Petrović Njegoš (1813–1853) is one of canonical Serbian

writers, mostly due to his Gorski vijenac [The Mountain Wreath] (1847),
a representative of national Romanticism. In this paper I will present his
another work, Luča mikrokozma [The Ray of the Micrososm] (1845), and its
possible esoteric sources.
Here I need to provide a short introduction on historical context
of Serbian culture of the period (the first half of the 19th century). Serbia
under Otoman rule was gradually regaining her independence. The center
of Serbian intellectual life was in what is nowadays northern Serbia and
was part of the Habsburg empire back then: Serbs who emigrated there in
the 17th century formed an intellectual elite under the influence of Western
ideas, from the Enlightenment to Romanticism. They transmitted these
ideas to the compatriots in Serbia rapidly shifting Serbian culture from
Byzantine Orthodox culture toward culture of Western modernity. And there
was Montenegro, a tiny region in the mountains, surrounded by Turkey,
Venice (till her disappearance from historical scene) and Austria. From the
18th century onwards the country also had special relations with Russia.
The inhabitants, belonging to different clans, lived in a type of society that
could best be described as a heroic culture, comparable to Homeric Greece.
A state of warfare between different clans or with the Turks was giving
impetus to epic poetry. It was predominantly oral culture. The central
authority was the Bishop in Cetinje. This position belonged to the Petrović
Njegoš clan since the 17th century on. Petar was born in this type of culture
and in his short life his work had passed through very different forms of
literature.
* nem_radulovic@yahoo.com
104 Nemanja Radulović
Born as Rade, he was elected by his uncle, bishop Petar I as a

sucessor; he was educated in monasteries (since there were no schools
in Montenegro, he did not have formal education). In spite of his high
ecclesiastical position and liturgical knowledge he never received official
theological schooling. His uncle brought him a tutor, the famous Romantic
poet Sima Milutinović (1791–1847), an eccentric figure, author of mystical
cosmical poems and a Freemason who immensely influenced the young
boy. After his uncle’s death (1830) Rade became a bishop under the name
Petar II (anointed in Russia in the presence of Nicholas I). As a statesman,
he started the modernization of his country (centralization of power, tax
paying), not without resistance, facing at the same time wars with the
neighbouring Turks. Although in foreign politics he was trying to maintain
good relations with conservatives like Metternich at the same time, he was
adamant in supporting the idea of the national liberation and suspected (by
the same Metternich, for example) of nurturing liberal and revolutionary
ideas. Undoubtedly a religious person, he still was ruling almost as a secular
ruler. As a poet, he started in a manner of traditional oral epic. Fluent in
Italian, Russian and French, later he discovered classicism (for example,
the high style of Russian writers) and then he moved to Romantic writers
(like Hugo, or Lamartine, whom he translated).
In 1845 he published a long poem in 6 cantos (2210 decasyllabic
lines), The Ray of the Micrososm (the title refers to a divine spark in
humanity), composed during Lent. The poem is dedicated to Milutinović.
At the beginning the lyrical subject asks about the mystery of life and death
and how humanity came to its present state. The poet’s higher self appears
and leads him, like in a vision, up through the skies, through mobile and
immobile spheres. Then a guardian angel appears and ascends further with
the subject, showing God’s work. On the left side, the poet sees hell: a dark
sphere where a black orb radiates black light. Angel leads him to a well and
commands him to drink. Upon drinking of the water, the poet remembers
his pre-existent life, when he and all human beings were angels in the
heavens. There the true plot begins and the poem retrospectively reveals
the cause of humanity’s fall. Canto three moves to the past depicting God
who continually creates new worlds and suns out of dark chaos (calling God
a poet, Njegoš pays tribute both to Platonic heritage and Romanticism).
He summons the archangels and gives them His account of cosmogony.
In some primeval period the dark realm had extended its power (so it
seems that the dark realm and God are coexistent), but God had warded off
this attack. Dark realm withdrew but continues to produce some kind of
pseudocreation. God continually takes sleeping suns from the dark realm
transforming them into light. This process will last till God’s realm of light
Esotericism, Orthodoxy and Romanticism in P. Petrović Njegoš’s The Ray... 105
extends everywhere. Afer this narration, God commands the archangels

to go to the archangel Satan suspiciously absent from this meeting. In
his divine wisdom God sees that Satan prepares a rebellion. Obeying, the
archangels go and ask Satan to repent but he refuses. Njegoš ’s Satan – a
very Byronic and Miltonian figure – addreses the archangel Michael:
Michael in rank my equal but in a mind /Much lower, for thy soul is not
as mine/ Inflamed and blazing with a noble pride./Satan doth not implore
forgiveness mild,/[...]Why did your haughty sovereign raise myself/ And all
my host from everlasting sleep/ Refusing yet the crown of perfect might?/
Oh, would I had remained eternally/ Lulled by the silent soft embrace of
sleep/ Myself and all my valiant host, instead/ Of coming forth into the world
increasing/ The pride of my intolerable foe (IV, 44–66).
And then Satan delivers a very strange speech. He claims that he had
discovered the secret of the universe. In the beginning there were many
worlds. But then some mysterious catastrophe – called “hazard” or “horrible
destiny of the first skies” – destroyed all the worlds and their rulers were
hurled into the chaos. Only this one cosmos of ours remained. God, who was
only one among equals, grasped the absolute power proclaiming himself as
the only God. He started creating new worlds inhabited with weak creatures.
But Satan being equal to him demands equal power. Moreover, Satan wants
to awake the primeval worlds sunk in chaos and to establish the old order.
Obviously, Satan’s account of creation is opposed to God’s.
Since Satan does not want to renounce his ambitions, war is inevitable.
Adam and his angelic host join Satan. The battle starts and this is the most
epic part of the poem. During the battle Adam with his angels repents and
changes side. On the last day Satan’s army is defeated. God pronounces
his judgment. He creates hell for Satan and his angels. For Adam and his
angels he creates this planet as a prison and a place of expiation. He makes
bodies from mud and encloses angels into these material forms but as an
act of mercy he deletes the remembrance of angelic pre-existence from
human memory. After this, Biblical history with Adam and Eve starts. The
true religion was lost and became replaced by idolatry and cult of hideous
animals. The original religion had been preserved among worshippers of
the sun only (called “innocent sons of nature”), until the coming of Christ.
As we can see, a work written by a bishop of the Orthodox Church is
replete with heterodox topics: the pre-existence of souls and condemnation
of matter; pre-existence and plurality of worlds; continuous creation of the

All quotes from the poem after: P.P.Njegoš, The Ray of the Microcosm, trans. by A.
Savić-Rebac in Anica Savić rebac i Njegoševa Luča mikrokozma ed. by Darinka Zličić (Novi
Sad: Književna zajednica Novog Sada, 1989), 111–301.
world not ex nihilo but out of dark chaos; coexistence of God and the dark
realm; positive appreciation of the solar cult. On the other hand, some
contemporary theologians state that in spite of some deviations, the poem
belongs to Biblical and patristic tradition. (Some years ago there was an
initiative for the canonization of Njegoš as a saint but was eventually not
accepted). The philologists, for their part, were concerned with Njegoš’s
sources representing Quellenforschung at its best old-fashioned qualities:
they were looking either for direct sources or for the literary tradition he
adheres to. Special attention was paid to his cosmology where many texts,
from apocrypha to scientific works of his period were listed as possible
sources. An important point is that he purchased numerous books in
Russia (including a translation of Milton), but his library unfortunatelly
has not been preserved; his familiarity with French literature also deserves
attention, as does his interest in works of antiquity (in translation).
Here I shall focus just on some of the poem’s themes – the preexistence
of souls in the first place; I intend to provide a short overview of research
and offer my view of poem’s esoteric context of the period.
Scholars from the field of Classical studies saw Neo-Platonism of
late antiquity and its late transmission through European culture as the
main inspiration for the poem. According to them, this sort of influence
is discernible in two topics: a) preexistence of souls; their fall into material
bodies; the role of anamnesis, b) the cult of light and sun, including the
concept of the divine spark within man. The cosmology of the poem
corresponds much to a multilayered Neoplatonic universe.
However, some authors think that Platonism was included into
Byzantine theology so that in that sense Njegoš’s cult of light could the be
inheritance of patristic literature. Heresiological writings could also have
informed him on pre-existence.
German Slavist Alois Schmaus noticed that Njegoš synthetized
pre-existence with Christianity. Such a type of Christian Platonism,

Although the last one can also be interpreted as preparatio evangelica.

http://www.eparhija.me/riznica/11/njegos-nas-savremenik.pdf

Popular 18th century compilations, available to the poet, often presented antique
philosophy without critical distinction between Plato and later Neoplatonic ideas.

This view were defended by Miron Flašar, synthetically in his Njegoš i antika [Njegoš
and antiquity](Podgorica: CANU, 1997).

Svetozar Matić, „Prilog proučavanju izvora Luče mikrokozma” [Contributions to
the study of The Ray of the Microcosm ’s sources], Zbornik radova SAN 17(1952): 207–229;
J.H.Dubbink, “Some Contributions to a Future Commentary on the Luča Mikrokozma of
P.P.Njegoš”, in Dutch Contributions to the 5th International Congress of Slavicists, Sofia, 1963.
(The Hague: Mouton 1963), 19–26.
opines Schmaus, stems from Origen, Origenism thus being Njegoš’s final
source.
The third current of research was looking for sources not into Classical
antiquity but on the local soil. It had been remarked that ascension on high
is not Neoplatonic or Hermetic only, but that it had passed in the apocrypha.
These old texts became part of medieval Slavic literatures through Church
Slavonic versions. In those examples of the genre available to Njegoš
(Ascension of Isaiah, Book of Enoch, Baruch ’s Revelaton) ascencison on high
is common motif indeed, as well as some cosmological conceptions.
More thought-provoking is the idea that Njegoš was inspired by Balkan
medieval heterodox movement called Bogomilism. The anthropogenesis
given in The Ray of the Microcosm resembles the mythology ascribed to
Bogomils in polemical sources and in the Bogomil text Interrogatio Iohannis.
Bogomilism is usually described as a dualist (Neo-Manichaean) movement
opposing spirit and matter. According to it, human souls are angels seduced
into material bodies as a prison. The first half of the 19th century was a
period of awakening interest in Bogomilism in South Slavic cultures as a
national heritage. Njegoš’s tutor Milutinović was among the first to express
such an interest.
Finally, there is an idea of Kabbalistic influences on Njegoš proposed by
Classical scholar Anica Savić-Rebac who translated The Ray of the Microcosm
into English and German (she also analyzed influences of Bogomilism and
Philon of Alexandria). In order to fully research this idea she developed a
correspondence with G. Scholem, H. Leisegang and Denis Saurat sending
them copies of her translation. They agreed about the influence of Gnosticism
and Manicheism. According to them, Njegoš’s images of body and world
as prison and of the human state as a dream obviously correspond to the
Gnostic worldview. Battle between dark realm and that of light resembles
Manicheism and cosmology found within the so-called radical dualist
current among medieval Bogomils and Cathars. Scholem and Saurat also
believed they had noticed traces of Zohar in the idea of pre-existent worlds
and their destruction, that is to say, the idea of successive creations and
destructions of the world.10 Savić-Rebac speculated that Njegoš could have

Alojz Šmaus, Njegoševa Luča mikrokozma [Njegoš ’s The Ray of the Microcosm]
(Belgrade: Jedinstvo, 1927), 111.

Nikola Banašević, “Oko Njegoševe Luče mikrokozma” [About Njegoš ’s The Ray of the
Microcosm], Godišnjak Skopskog Filozofskog fakulteta 1 (1930): 39–48; Svetozar Matić, „Prilog
proučavanju.”

Anica Savić-Rebac, Helenski vidici [Helenic perspectives] (Belgrade: SKZ, 1966),
94–151. In the English translation of the poem (footnote 1) she gives an ample summary of
her research (111–152).
10
Cf. The Wisdom of The Zohar (Oxford University Press: 1989) I, 276; II, 458.
had some contacts with Jewish communities in coastal Adriatic towns.11 It

seems that she and her correspondants had overlooked the popularity of
Christian Kabbalah and various compilations of such type – that is the same
type of mistake Saurat made while writing about Milton, as reproached later
by F. Yates.12 In spite of Savić-Rebac’s erudition, other scholars pointed out
that the idea of successive catastrophes was part of the natural science of
the period (Cuvier)13 and that the same idea appears in Byron’s Cain – a
work much more available in that period than Zohar.14 Also, Njegoš’s Adam
is still different from Adam Kadmon, not being makranthropos.15
My conviction is that the context of Njegoš’s period should be
emphasized. French Slavicist A. Vaillant mentioned, without developing
the argument, that Milutinović could have made Njegoš familiar with “a
semisecret doctrine popular in Russia in that time” and that there are
“striking similarities between The Ray and the Russian divulgation of Jacob
Boehme.”16 While previous researchers looked for the ultimate sources of
his heterodox ideas, we know from the history of Western esotericism that
those listed above were also part of Christian esotericism of the late 18th
and early 19th centuries. Therefore we will try to present the context of The
Ray within the esoteric culture of the period (the texts we will quote should
be taken as an illustration of that context, not as a direct source), paying
special attention to Russian literature as a possible channel for transfering
the influence.
The theme of pre-existence can be found in the teachings of
Martinesism and Martinism (much more than in Boehme). Martinez de
Pasqually’s cosmology is based on a fall of spiritual beings into matter. God
creates the material cosmos as a prison for the rebelled spirits and Adam
11
Anica Savić-Rebac, Helenski, 132; 150–151; cf. Pero Slijepčević, „Četiri teme o
Luči” [Four Themes about The Ray], Glasnik SAN II/1 (1950): 149–151.
12
For example, Saurat explains Milton’s preexistent chaos through Zohar (Denis
Saurat, Milton. Man and Thinker, London: J. Cape, 1924, 285).
13
Cuvier’ s idea is however limited to our globe, while Njegoš speaks about the universe.
14
Dušan Puhalo, „Bajronov Kain i Njegoševa Luča mikrokozma” [Byron ’s Cain and
Njegoš’s The Ray of the Microcosm], in Bajron i bajronizam u jugoslovenskim književnostima,
ed. S. Kabiljo-Šutić (Belgrade: IKUM et al., 1991), 137–146.
15
Njegoš differs from Martinism in some topics: Adam and Satan fall at the same
time, while in Martinism angels fall before the first man. Pasqualy’s material universe had
been created for fallen angels, but Njegoš equates the fallen angels with the human soul. On
this point he is closer to Bogomilism. Saint-Martin denies the individual character of pre-
existent sin: humans are comparable to children of a condemned criminal (Man, His true
Nature and Ministry, London: William Alan, 1864, 31), while Njegoš – again, like Bogomilism
– identifies human souls with the legion of Adam’s rebelled angels.
16
A. Vaillant, “Chronique. Publications”, Revue des études slaves 19 (1939): 174–175.
Criticism of the idea of Origen’s influence: Rostislav Pletnev, „Nekoliko primedbi o Luči
mikrokozma” [Some remarks about The Ray of the Microcosm] Slavia 16 (1938–1939), 99.
(emanated from God) was selected as their guardian. The fallen spirits
seduce him which means that he and his offspring became corporeal.
Pasqually’s ideas are recognizable on higher degrees of Willermoz’s system
(Chevaliers Bienfaisant de Cité Sainte), which enjoyed popularity in the
18th century: the cosmos had been created as a prison for the fallen angels,
man and his offspring were enclosed into the bodies as a punishment.17
The image of Martinism in literature of the period, outside of esoteric
circles, is illustrated by contemporary writer Sebastien Mercier: man had
been punished by being given the material body for his previous sin, but
the divine spark rests in him to remind him of the former glory.18 This
description can be taken as a summary of Njegoš’s poem too.
Pre-existence can be found in other esoteric authors of the time, like
Duchess de Bourbon or Pierre-Simon Ballanche (whose idea of pre-existence
influenced V. Hugo).19 Michael Ramsay’s novel Cyrus’ Travels (1728; many
subsequent editions or translations), influental in shaping Freemasonic
ideology, finds the common core of ancient religions in the doctrine of
pre-existence. J.H. Jung-Stilling and Joseph de Maistre polemized against
this idea.20 It is taken therefore that “commonplaces of esotericism of
that period” are the pre-existence of souls, exile and incarnation of man,21
creation of the material cosmos as a prison for the fallen spirits22 and the
material body as prison for man.23 These concepts became even more
accessible at the beginning of the 19th century.24 As Faivre notices, the fall
and reintegration are not “obsessive theme” of theosophical discourses only
but of romanticism as well. 25
17
Rene le Forestier, La franc-maçonnerie templière et occultiste aux XVIIIe et XIXe siècles
(Paris-Louvain: Aubier-Montaigne, Éditions Nauwelaerts, 1970), 446–452; 724; 1032–1033;
1039–1040; A. Faivre, Access to Western Esotericism (Albany: State University of New York
Press, 1994), 153.
18
Le Forestier, La franc-maçonnerie, 776.
19
Auguste Viatte, Les sources occultes du romantisme I (Paris: H. Champion, 1928),
243; Antoine Faivre, L’Ésotérisme au XVIIIe siècle en France et en Allemagne (Paris: Seghers,
1973), 84–85; Brian Juden, Traditions orphiques et tendance mystiques dans la romantisme
français (1800–1855) (Paris, Klincksieck, 1971), 274; Јacques Roos, Les idées philosophiques
de Victor Hugo. Ballanche et Victor Hugo (Paris: Nizet, 1958), 59. For Hugo and preexistence
see Roos, .Les idées philosophiques, 61. 65; 97.
20
Viatte Les sources II, 54; Joseph de Maistre, Les Soirées de Saint-Petersbourg (Oeuvres
completes V) (Lyon, Paris: Librairie Catholique 1924), 205; Faivre, L’ Ésotérisme, 125–126.
21
Viatte, Les sources I, 37.
22
Faivre, L’ Ésotérisme, 10; 35; 37
23
V. Bogoljubov, N. I. Novikov i ego vremja [N.I.Novikov and His Times] (Moscow,
1916), 141–142.
24
Le Forestier, La franc-maçonnerie, 906.
25
Faivre, Access, 81. The theme of successive falls The Ray presents (fall into matter,
and then the fall described in Genesis) can be found in Saint-Martin, Dutoit-Membrini,
Baader (Faivre, L’ Ésotérisme... 36; 72; 114).
Changes launched by pre-Romanticism and Romanticism can also be

discerned in the poem’s portrayal of Satan. Interest in this figure perhaps
also has a background in slightly older esoteric culture, because “since
1750 the Lucifer myth started becoming popular in culture, specially in
Boehme-derived theosophies”.26 But the very heroisation of the fallen
angel in the late 18th century, materialized through the reception of Milton,
found resonance both in literature and in occultism: the two nurtured each
other.27
Willermoz’s system enjoyed popularity in Russia, where Martinism
gained popularity even outside Freemasonic circles through Saint-Martin’s
books. It had influenced Russian literature of the 18th century Njegoš
was familiar with. Some important works of that period were handling
the subject of the pre-existent fall: Heraskov’s Vladimir, Bogdanovič’s
Dušenjka, Semon Bobrov, whose poem The Ancient Night of the Universe has
been mentioned as the closest parallel to Njegoš’s work.28 But this work has
also been described as an “encyclopaedia of images and themes of Russian
masonry.”29 Bobrov was influenced both by Ramsay’s novel30 and by
German theosophist Kleuker who compiled Martinist ideas in his Magikon
(published in 1784 and very popular among Russian readers and published
by Masonic typography in 1786; the 6th edition was announced in 1814).31
Among Moscow Martinists poems of the Miltonian type enjoyed popularity
too (they published Milton’s Paradise Lost) 32 Njegoš belonged to a younger
generation but he read classicists. Also, the heritage of Martinism was
26
Faivre – L’ Ésotérisme... 56; Rolf Christian Zimmermann, Das Weltbild des jungen
Goethe. Studien zur hermetischen Tradition des deuschen 18. Jahrhunderts, München, 1969,
131–133.
27
Cf. Massimo Introvigne, I satanisti. Storia, riti e miti del satanismo (Milano: Sugarco
edizioni, 2010), 58–59.
28
Flašar, Njegoš, 227ff.
29
V. I. Saharov, „Russkaja masonskaja poèzija (k postanovke problemy)” [Russian
masonic poetry-toward defining the problem] in Massonstvo i russkaja literatura 18.-načala
19.veka [Freemasonry and Russian Literature of the 18th and early 19th century], ed. V.
I. Saharov. (Moscow: URSS, 2000), 112. Cf. L. I. Sazonova, „Perevodnoj roman v kruge
masonskogo čtenija“ [Translated Novel in Freemasonic Reading Circles], in Massonstvo i
russkaja literatura 18. – načala 19. veka, 47.
30
Sazonova, „Perevodnoj roman”, 44–45.
31
Antoine Faivre, “De Saint-Martin à Baader: Le Magikon de Kleuker”, accessed May
11, 2017, http://www.philosophe-inconnu.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/magikon-
antoine-faivre.pdf (first time published in: Études Germaniques 32 (1968): 161–190).
32
L. I. Sazonova, „Perevodnoj roman”, 32; V. I. Saharov, „Russkaja masonskaja
poezija,” 83; V. I. Saharov, „N. M. Karamzin i vol’nye kamenščiki: istoriko-biografičeskie
aspekty“[N. M. Karamzin and Freemasons: historico-biographical aspects], Massonstvo i
russkaja literatura 18.-načala 19. veka, 148.
passed to Russian Romantic writers of the first quarter of the 19th century,
called spiritual children of Novikov, like Vladimir Odoevsky.33
Was Njegoš initiated? He had contacts with masons, besides his tutor
Milutinović34: his teacher of French Antibes Jaumme, Garibaldi’s secretary
Francesco del Ongaro, some Russian contacts and some from Trieste.35 But
we do not have any data on his membership in some lodge. French Slavicist
Michel Aubin opines that it does not seem probable that in the time after
the Congress of Vienna Njegoš could be a member of a secret organization
suspected in revolutionary ideas. Still, he thinks that the concept of God who
creates the world out of dark chaos resembles the Masonic demiurge, both
stemming from deism36 (and Platonism, it could be added). Like Njegoš,
Masonry uses the Sun for depicting natural religion. 37 In Njegoš’s poetry
(besides The Ray) some images typical of Russian Masonic poetry of the 18th
century can be discerned: entrance into the temple, lifting the veil from the
eyes, a blind man as a symbol of ignorance.38 But he could also have taken
them simply through the reading without aiming at initiatic symbolism or
being aware of it.
The idea of pre-existence may have its final origin in Platonism or
Origenism,39 and in that sense Classical scholars were not wrong in pointing
to the tradition Njegoš adheres to. But at the same time these ideas are alive
among Njegoš’s contemporaries from esoteric milieux. Let us not forget
33
G. V. Vernadskij, Russkoe masonstvo v carstvovanie Ekateriny II [Russian Freemasonry
during the reign of Catherine II] (St.-Petersburg: Izd.im. N. I. Novikova, 1999), 320–321;
Marina Aptekman, Jacob’s Ladder. Kabbalistic Allegory in Russian Literature (Boston:
Academic Studies press, 2011), 106–140.
34
Njegoš’s poetry is close to Milutinović‘s in themes like God’s continual creation,
ascension motif, cult of the Sun.
35
Zoran Nenezić, Masoni u Jugoslaviji 1764–1980 [Freemasons in Yugoslavia
1764–1980](Beograd: Zodne, 1988), 169–170; Mišel Oben, Njegoš i istorija u pesnikovom
delu [translation of: Visions historiques et politiques dans l’oeuvre poétique de P. P. Njegoš]
(Belgrade: Književne novine et al., 1989), 176; Krunoslav Spasić, Njegoš i Francuzi [Njegoš
and French] (Zaječar: Kristal, 1988), 20–43.
36
Oben, Njegoš, 175–177.
37
Patrick Négrier, L’ Écletisme maçonnique (Paris: Éditions ivoire-claire, 2003), 132.
Although one report on Parsis perhaps was a source, see: Božidar Kovačević, „Originalnost
Luče mikrokozma“[The Originality of The Ray of the Microcosm], Književnost 13 (1951): 242;
Dušan Puhalo, „O književnoj vrednosti Luče mikrokozma“[On The Ray of the Microcosm’s
Literary Value], Stvaranje, 9–10 (1963): 72.
38
A. V. Pozdneev, „Rannie masonskie pesni”, Scando-Slavica 8 (1962): 61; V.I.Saharov,
„Russkaja masonskaja”, 111; L.I.. Sazonova, „Perevodnoj roman”, 46.
39
Regarding Origenism, researchers are of divided opinions regarding Njegoš ’s view
toward apocatastasis. Even if we take that the poem supports this idea, again we can easily
find it in the Christian theosophy of the late 18th-early 19th centuries (Lavater, Zinzendorf
and Pietists, Boehmians). Eckartshausen, Jung-Stilling and Nikolaj Novikov write aginst it.
the notion that in the “illuminatic milieu” one “meets Plato at every step,”
in pre-existence in the first place40 and that “Neoplatonic doctrines offer
stunning analogies to this illuminism.”41 (The same can be said of Origen).42
Platonic and Origenic concepts had been present not as cultural heritage
only, not as something belonging to history of ideas exclusively, but as an
actual cosmogonic speculation.
These ideas might belong to Gnostic affliation as well (if we take
the traditional view of Gnosticism as a unified phenomenon marked
by anticosmism). But Gnostic imagery can be found in Saint-Martin,
Lopoukhin, Jung-Stilling, or Eckartshausen: prison, dungeon, dream,
fetters of matter are frequent expressions. Saint-Martin often uses images
of nature as a prison and earth as a place of banishment. The soul has fallen
into matter forgetting her original homeland, sunk into the dream of a dark
universe, comparable to the Lethe; man became material after the fall. 43
Pasquali’s cosmology has already been compared to the Gnostic, Manichean
and Cathar systems44 Some masons are enlisting Gnosticism, or Manicheism
among other traditions they affiliate to.45
We cannot enter here into the complex question of a possible
continuum of Gnostic topoi in Western literature versus typological
similarities of modern works with Gnosticism; what we want to stress is
that the imaginaire usually described as Gnostic is far from being absent in
Njegoš’s esoteric contemporaries.
40
Viatte, Les sources, I, 26.
41
Faivre, L’ Ésotérisme, 50.
42
Zimmermann, Das Weltbild, 132.
43
Summaries of Saint-Martin ’s teaching: Faivre, L’ Ésotérisme, 118–123; K. R.
H. Frick, Die Erleuchteten. Gnostisch-theosophische und alchemistisch-rosenkreutzerische
Geheimgesellschaften bis zum Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts, (Wiesbaden: Marix, 2005), 517–609;
Jean-François Var, “Martinism: First Period”, in Dictionary of Gnosis and Western Esotericism,
ed. by W. J. Hanegraaff (Brill: Leiden), 770–779. At the same time authors like Baader or
Eckartshausen preach against the idea that matter is evil: Faivre, Eckartshausen, 325; 356
44
Such is the opinion of A. Franck, R. Amadou, R. le Forestier, A. Faivre, K. R. H.
Frick (for example Forestier: „clear echo of Manichean and Gnostic doctrines” – ibid: 292;
297; 795. The early researcher Matter on the other hand rejects Gnostic and Kabbalistic
traces in Martinism (limited by knowledge of Gnosticism in that period): J. Matter, Saint-
Martin. Le philosophe inconnu (Paris, 1862), 11; 355–356.
45
V. I. Saharov, „Masonstvo, literatura i èzoteričeskaja tradicija v vek Prosveščenija”,
in Masonstvo i russkaja literatura, 17; cf. Yuri L. Halturin, „Gnosis i gnosticizm v mirovozrenii
rossijskih rozenkrejcerov 18-načala 19.v”, [Gnosis and Gnosticism in worldview of Russian
Rosicrucians of the 18th and early 19th century] in Rossia i gnozis, ed. by A.L.Ričkov, (S.-
Petersburg: RHGA): 257, on Gnosticism as a possible source of the divine spark’s concept.
We leave aside that some authors – as different as Barruel and Condorcet – accuse secret
societies of “Manicheism“; this obviously belongs to the stock phrases.
Regarding comparisons with Kabbalah, a similarity to specifically

Lurianic forms should be added: the myth of sparks sunken into the dark
and their soteriological restoration resembles the cosmology narrated by
Njegoš’s God.46 But, as said above, Kabbalah was already integrated into
European esoteric culture of the 18th and19th century, especially into
Christian esotericism and its Martinist and Rosicrucian manifestations,
syncretically, with many other traditions. Themes of light, the divine spark,
speculations about Adam passed into Russian Freemasonry and through it
into works of poets like S. Bobrov.47 Finally, ideas of periodical destructions
of earth were not unknown within some masonic teachings.48
Another proof of Njegoš’s inspiration by contemporary ideas is that
angels and God in the poem operate through electricity and magnetism.
This obviously discloses the influence of Mesmerism, more precisely
its theosophical off shoot popular in the 19th century (as represented by
Baader or Eckartshausen),49 described also as “magnetic gnosis,” a Romantic
variation of the Platonic and Pythagorean scheme.50 Among writers inspired
both by Mesmerism and the theosophical interpretation of electricity51 we
find names of Novalis, Hoffmann, Poe, Balzac, Mary Shelley, up to Th.Mann.
In France, the period from 1830 till the early Second Empire was the peak
of popularity.52 In a poem on Milutinović’s death Njegoš compares the soul
46
It is interesting that Shabbatai Zevi died in the Montenegrin coastal town of
Ulcinj.
47
Konstantin Burmistrov, “The Place of Kabbalah in the Doctrine of Russian
Masons”, Aries: Journal for the Study of Western Esotericism 4 (2004): 27–68; Apptekman,
Jacob’s Ladder, 69–82.
48
Jean Richer, Nerval. Expérience et création (Paris: Hachette, 1970), 388–389; Le
Forestier, La franc-maçonnerie 92; Frick, Die Erleuchteten, 218. Pasqually and Saint-Martin
view this cosmos as made out of parts of the previous better one destroyed. Saint-Martin also
mentions periodical destructions in nature (Tableau naturel,ch. 13). There is still Njegoš’s
similarity to a Kabbalistic theme on the level of imagery: Kabala uses the image of kings (of
Edom) for depicting previous worlds, and Njegoš’s Satan also speaks of rulers of worlds on
thrones.
49
Eckartshausen compares electricity and magnetism with the soul force (Karl von
Eckartshausen, Aufschlüsse zur Magie aus geprüften Erfahrungen, München, 1923), 31–32; the
electric force pervades all the bodies; everything is connected with a chain and the magnetic
fluid causes the motion. (63). These are just some examples among many of the period’s
authors. Cf. also F.von Baader, Schriften (Leipzig. 1921), 71–72. 171–172. 179–180.
50
Wouter J. Hanegraaff, “Magnetic Gnosis. Somnabulic Quest for Absolute Knowledge”,
in Die Enzyklopädik der Esoterik: Allwissenheitsmythen und universalwissenschaftliche Modelle
in der Esoterik der Neuzeit, ed. by A. B. Kilcher and Ph. Theisohn, (Paderborn: Wilhelm Fink:
2010), 118–134.
51
Faivre, L’ Ésotérisme, 139–140.
52
Maria M. Tatar, Spellbound. Studies on Mesmerism and Literature (Princeton:
University Press, 1978).
to an electrical spark: like other Romantics, Njegoš transforms the divine

spark of Platonism (and a topos of esotericism!)53 into an electric one.54
Some quality unknown had lifted me,
Some weird magnetic power attracts me there (1, 109–110)
Sweet balm which floated through my rigid soul
In waves of an electric touch divine
(1, 156–160)
This is how God describes his creation of “isles in the ocean of air”:
For with magnetic consecrated power
I bound them all, inducing them to hold
Each other...
(3, 257–260).
She [soul] nearly touched the edge from where to fall.

But then her guardian of the snowlike wings
Rescued her with magnetic influence (1, 317–320)55
The influences Njegoš met were poetical in the first place. He was
familiar with the literature of the period. Martinism was not something
hidden in esoteric circles. It was known, even popular among educated
people, being a kind of esotericism A. Viatte called “salon game” (un jeu
de salon),56 (which means that concepts like occulture does not belong
to contemporary world only). These concepts were not marginal but
constituted an important source of artistic and intellectual life. This
reminds us of the thesis proposed in the 1920s again by Auguste Viatte,
that French Romanticism in many aspects draws from the esotericism of
the 18th century.
My thesis is that in Njegoš’s case we find the offshoot of this inluence
in Serbian Romanticism, too. Most probably Russian literature was the
mediator. This opens a new possibility in the history of literary influences
and new perspectives in the history of Western esotericism and its reception
in Orthodox cultures. In the 18th century the cultures of Slavia Orthodoxa
53
Faivre, L’ Ésotérisme, 9; Faivre, Eckartshausen, 13. It seems that Njegoš accepts the
idea of the soul’s divinity, i.e. emanationism. This theme had been more explicitly presented
in Milutinović’s poems.
54
Tatar, Spellbound, 270.
55
Jung-Stilling in his description of the spirit world gives an account of angels and
spirits communicating through electricity: an angel chases away the soul of a “pharisee” by
the electric stroke (J. H. Jung-Stilling, Szenen aus dem Geisterreich, Bietigheim: Karl Rohm,
1973), 194.
56
Viatte, Les sources II, 272.
started undergoing a transformation orientating toward Western models:

this affected literature too when influences of Baroque, Classicism and
Romanticism spread. To this, we obviously may add Western esotericism.
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Ewelina Drzewiecka
Institute of Slavic Studies of the Polish Academy of Sciences
“Enlightened Esotericism”: A Case Study on

Migrating Ideas in the Modern Bulgarian
Tradition**
This paper presents the partial results of the research within the framework
of a larger collective project “Migrating Ideas in the Slavic Balkans (18th–20th
Century)”, conducted at the Institute of Slavic Studies of the Polish Academy
of Sciences. Referring to Reinhart Koselleck and his Begriffsgeschichte,
Charles Taylor and his concept the modern social imaginaries and others,
we examine the linguistic/textual manifestations of ideas generated within
the horizon of Modernity. We ask, how are they understood in connection
with the modernization project? What philosophical contexts do they
actualize? How are they adapted to the local context? Here, I will present
only a part of the research, related to specific concepts/ideas: religion/
secularization and education/formation – perceived as key to the modern
esoteric thought. I examine views of crucial Bulgarian esotericians: Peter
Dănov, Sofronij Nikov and Nikolaj Rajnov, as they represent the two main
* ewelina.drzewiecka@gmail.com
** This work was supported by a grant “Migrating ideas in the Slavic Balkans
(XVIII–XX c.)” from the National Science Centre, Poland (project number: 2014/13/B/
HS2/01057).

The Bulgarian case differs substantially from the German-speaking situation that is
examined by Reinhart Koselleck, because it is a question of adaptation of already established
ideas of Modernity (in this by “foreign” language signs), rather than internal development of
native concepts. Nevertheless, the basic principle is the same: the constant convergence of
language and reality is expressed in the changes of meaning in the texts that can be called
“evidence of (self) consciousness of the elites,” i.e. anthologies, textbooks, press, research,
public lessons. Cf. Reinhart Koselleck, The Practice of Conceptual History: Timing History,
Spacing Concepts (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2002); Futures Past: On the Semantics
of Historical Time (New York: Columbia University Press, 2004).

Charles Taylor stresses that in the process of modernization of culture the old
ideas are not neutralised, but only reinterpreted. In order to investigate these modern but
heterogeneous meanings and mental categories, it is necessary to explore and discourse the
influences and their real traces. Cf. Charles Taylor, Modern Social Imaginaries (Durham:
Duke University Press, 2003); A Secular Age (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007).
120 Ewelina Drzewiecka
“schools” in Bulgaria in the beginning of the 20th century: Dănovism and

Theosophy.
It is important to point out the intellectual background of these three
esotericists as all of them were raised in the framework of the values of the
National Revival and manifested a particular interest in religious matters
in the period of the end of 19th-beginning of 20th century, which is the
crucial period for Bulgarian modernity. Peter Dănov (1864–1944) was a
well-known philosopher and spiritual teacher, an author of an original
compilation, a founder of the White Brotherhood. He had a medical and
theological (protestant) education. Sofronij Nikov (1874–1953) was a
Theosophist most active in the begging of the 20th century. He was a general
secretary of the Theosophical Society in Bulgaria (1920–1930), an editor of
the journal “Path” (1907–1908) and author and translator of many esoteric
texts, among them written by Annie Besant and Théophile Pascal. He had
a military and theological (orthodox) education. Nikolaj Rainov (1889–
1954) was a writer, poet, artist and scholar, most active during the second
and third decades of the 20th century. He also had a theological (Orthodox)
education, as well as an artistic one. After the Great War he popularized
Theosophy, giving lectures, translating texts and editing the journals
Аnhira (1921–1923), Orpheus (1924–1926), and the series The Theosophical
Library. He was influenced by the aesthetic ideas of Nikolaj Rerih. In

The Bulgarian National Revival (1762–1878) is a period of the socio-economic
development and national integration among Bulgarian people under Ottoman rule. In this
sense it is part of the broader phenomenon of a rise of nationalism in the Balkans (and
whole Europe) in the 18–19th century. It started with a very influential historical book by
Bulgarian scholar and clergyman Saint Paisius of Hilendar and manifested itself firstly in
intellectual movement for cultural and religious autonomy, then in revolutionary movement
for political independence. It ended with liberation of Bulgaria as a result of the Russo-
Turkish War (1877–78).

In this paper, all of the quotations are from the collections made by his followers
from the White Brotherhood. Nowadays, there is a whole industry of publishing of various
books containing his more or less adapted lectures. Cf. Todor Kovačev, Učitelja Beinsa
Duno. Spravočnik na besedite i lekciite, molitvite, muzikalnite upražnenija, Panevritmijata,
gimnastičeskite upražnenija (1896–1944) [The Master Beinsa Douno: A catalog of the
lectures, prayers, musical exercises, Paneurhythmy, gymnastic exercises (1896–1944)]
(Sofija: Žanua, 2004).

I have examined all of his writings from the first two decades of the 20th century.
It is worth mentioning that one of them – series of public lectures on the “fundamental
questions of life” (Sofronij Nikov, Osnovnite văprosi na života: I serija skazki, dăržani v
teosofskoto obštestvo po stenografski beležki. Skazka 1–7 [Fundamental questions of life: First
series, held in theosophical society after stenographic notes] (Sofija: I. Ambil i sie, 1919))
has been stolen from all of the Bulgarian libraries (according to catalogues it should be in
Sofia: in the Sofia University Library and in the National Library “SS. Cyril and Methodius”).
On the other hand, there is a rumour that one year ago there was a man, who has bought all
of Nikov’s works. The question is peculiar.
“Enlightened Esotericism”: A Case Study on Migrating Ideas... 121
1924 he established a Theosophical lodge “Orpheus,” and five years later

– a Masonic lodge “Percival.” He was also the translator of Nietzsche and
Schopenhauer into Bulgarian.
***
The first decades of the 20th century in Bulgaria were marked by the
fundamental ideological conflict brought about by the modernisation.
Let me remind you that it was as late as in 1878 that Bulgaria liberated
itself from the rule of the Ottoman Empire, although the country regained
independence officially not earlier than in 1908. Another significant fact
has to do with the country’s participation in both Balkan Wars and with
the defeat in the First World War. It is against this background that the
key debates of modernity are unfolding: the debate between theism and
materialism, religion and science, and the Orthodox religion and esotericism.
However the true demarcation lines frequently run crosswise the main
ideological front lines. The Orthodox Church officially polemizes both
with the various trends of esoteric thought and with materialism, although
in practice – as an institution focused on the depreciation of atheism – it
tends to forget about the danger of the blurring of boundaries in reference
to syncretic trends which orbit the traditional Christian formation. As a
result, the polemics with esotericism is carried on the line between science
and religion.
I outline this broad context in order to point out that the key to
understanding the ideas/notions that I am interested in is, firstly, the
polemic background. Moreover, these ideas do not always occur in a direct
way. This is the case with the concept of “secularisation” which at that
time meant the appropriation of a church estate by a secular authority.
Therefore, the senses which are evoked by this idea must be discovered on
the basis of an onomasiological analysis. Of course, from the perspective of
the history of culture this very period is an expression of secularisation and
modernisation. Nevertheless, my point is to focus on the experience of the
elites of that time, in this case the esoteric elites. Let me explain one more
thing: I am aware that the study of the meaning of religion or science itself
in the modern esoteric systems is one of the fundamental tasks and as such
it was repeatedly engaged before. Also the presence of the Enlightenment
tradition in those systems – especially in the 19th-century version of the
tradition – is clear. Therefore my point is not to prove the link with this
tradition but to indicate the deep affinity with the Enlightenment tradition
incorporated both from the West and the tradition which is present in the
native context, in this case in the form of the heritage of the period of the
National Revival. Of course, there are significant differences between the

positivist and the esoteric criticism of religion, as well as between Theosophy
and Dănovism. Here, I wish only to present a possible typology, which would
indicate common paradigms of thought, and so – raise a question of the
history of ideas. I’m not talking about the reconstruction of possible paths
of cultural transfer, but about a common semantic ground.
***
And so, Bulgarian esotericism shares a common diagnosis of the crisis both
in Bulgaria and in the world. This crisis is reducible to the experience of
secularisation, i.e. the experience of the death of the spirit, which manifests
itself both in the triumphant materialism (atheism, Marxism) and in the
dead Church customs. For example, Nikolaj Rajnov pointed out that there
was a war going on between the mystics (Theosophists) and the unbelievers,
to which he classifies not only the atheists but also religious fanatics and
chauvinists (nationalists).
Between a mystic and an unbeliever a struggle has always been waged. Today
it is particularly strong. It seems that a crucial hour approaches, an hour
which will be fateful for one of the sides. There can be heard strange shouts
on poles (…). (...) You hear them: one shouts a “god of meat,” a god in human
form, and calls people to rise up in his name, to drink blood and eat flesh,
to kill whomever they see. The other, on the contrary, vows in the name of
humanity and his love for him – to keep his thoughts and impulses clean,
to drive away every evil from his heart – and his deeds to be a revelation of
God to the people.
We, the modern people, have become unbelievers. Besides that, we have lost
our relationship with God and relationship with each other, but we have
come to a situation that we are losing relationship with ourselves – so in
ourselves we do not believe.
Religion is subject to criticism – traditional religion, i.e. institutional

religion, conceived of as a mistaken idea because it is falsified: either
superficial or warped in its essence. The arguments are derived from the
Enlightenment. Religion is non-scientific (superstitious, i.e. irrational)
and pernicious to the people. Eventually, it becomes a source of violence,
therefore it is the source of evil. This type of approach – again, it has to do

Nikolaj Rajnov. “Mistika i bezverie,” [Mysticism and disbelief] Palitra 7 (2004),
http://www.palitrabg.net/7m.htm, accessed May 28, 2016. All the translations have been
made by the author of the paper.

Petăr Dănov, Bălgarskata duša [The Bulgarian soul] (Sofija: Astrala, 2000), 111.
with the Enlightenment – to religious wars, especially to the inquisition,

indicates the heritage of Western thought – in this sense it is alien as far as
the experience of the East is concerned, but on the other hand, it belongs
to the tradition of interdenominational polemics where according to the
Orthodox Church, the West as the Catholic Church is the embodiment of
heresy and sin. Nevertheless, the Enlightenment postulate of the consistency
of religion with reason and science dominates in this context.
The moral teaching of religions has lost any sense today, and if it is for
many not dead yet, it is in agony because it is not based on any scientific
foundation (…).
In our age and in all ages, the True Religion has always been a hotbed of
cultivating, of education of human feelings. Religion has appeared as a
scientific method of education of feelings and of the ways in which these
feelings should be educated. Then this way has turned into a human religion,
people have lost serious knowledge and have come to the situation when
they believe God will save them. (…)
At the same time esotericism builds apology of religion, but the true
religion. Religion is only one, because it is immutable in its content teaching
about the world, teaching about the eternal Laws and Rules governing the
Cosmos.
Religion is one, but religions are sisters and daughters of a one mother –
Ancient Wisdom; given in various times and to peoples in various stages of
development (each with its historic task), religions naturally differ in spirit
and form, but the teachings are the same, because Truth is one.10
It is known that the basic dogmas of all religions are identical in content,
though different in form. The same ideal is given in them, a man to unite
with God, perfect as him. But another fact is also undeniable – every religion
has a strong emphasis on a certain idea. This idea becomes characteristic of
the whole civilization of sub-race, which is colored – so to say – in its tone.
When the dominating idea runs out, the civilization collapses, dried out of
contradictions, and then dies.11

Sofronij Nikov, Preraždanieto. Edna otdavna zabravena istina [Reincarnation. A long-
forgotten truth] (Sofija: Lazar Kotev, 1922), 94.

Petăr Dănov, Enciklopedičen rečnik. Idei, principi, zakoni, praktičeski săveti i pravila
ot slovoto na Učitelja [Encyclopedic dictionary: Ideas, principles, laws, rules and practical
advice from the Word of the Master] (Sofija: Astrala, 1997), 631.
10
Sofronij Nikov, V zaštita na religijata: Skazki [In defense of religion: Lectures]
(Kazanlăk: izdanie s pomošta na Todor Šiškov, 1911), 6.
11
Nikolaj Rajnov, “Kopnežăt na narodite,” [Yearning of peoples] Palitra 2 (2009),
http://www.palitrabg.net/35kn.htm, accessed May 28, 2016.
Religion is a path, but also the spiritual and social bond of

Humanity.
Religion is this institution which binds a man with Life (with the Whole,
separateness and himself), therefore it is a Maintenance of the life of an
individual and a society.12
Religion can be defined as a path on which the human soul seeks God. And
mysticism is this footway, this more direct and steep climb where a man
finds the God.13
Religion is an inner bond that the man has with the divine world, and that
aims in restoring human feelings and actions and keeps him in connection
with the Divine in this life.14
In this sense it has one message: the unity of man with God conceived of as
the promise of happiness. At this point I omit the question – fundamental
in itself – about how this God is defined and about the path which leads
to this unity. What is important is that Religion has various forms, which
results from changeable historical circumstances, but its core remains the
same. Thus, the Enlightenment law of historical development manifests
itself in the understanding of the genesis.
The idea that religion is subject to the law of development may
be observed in the Bulgarian writers of the National Revival period. For
example, as Ivan Seliminski (1799–1866), a prominent philosopher, scholar,
teacher and physician, stresses the role of the progress of knowledge in
this respect, Todor Ikonomov (1838–1892), аn influential but controversial
publicist, scholar and politician, in turn stresses the law of History. Both
make reference to the idea of the childhood of man and the necessity of his
exodus to maturity. However, traditional, i.e. obsolete religion constitutes
an obstacle in this respect. Therefore, it is not the idea of religion itself that
is harmful, but its current form. Seliminski indicates that religion arose
as a result of man’s experience of fear with regard to incomprehensible
natural phenomena, especially astronomical ones. According to him,
religion should be consistent with the “natural purpose of man,” therefore
with development conceived of as improvement for hic et nunc. Whereas
Ikonomov, in his focus on the history of Christianity, shows on the one
hand the process of the elaboration of the doctrine and organisation,
necessitated by the need to adapt to the changing situation, and on the other
hand the proliferation of mistakes due to the increasing level of ignorance,
12
Nikov, V zaštita na religijata, 3.
13
Rajnov, “Mistika i bezverie.”
14
Dănov, Bălgarskata duša, 143–44.
the loss of a connection with the origins. What is important is that the
reflection of the National Revival writers is governed by the imperative of
seeking a natural explanation, whereas in the esoteric approach the point
of reference is the supernatural explanation. The reason for the emergence
of religion is no longer the human fear against the forces of nature which
leads to an evolution of thinking from totemism to monotheism, because
the point is no longer about its cult but about the eternal essence that seeks
an appropriate form of expression. Religion changes its forms, which is
a result of the changeable historical circumstances, but its spiritual core
remains the same. In this context a postulate of reform is put forward.
This reform is supposed to consist in the removal of the forms which are
perceived as manifestations of hypocrisy and even superstitions.
Another question is about religious reform. Religions are today imperfect,
unscientific, falsified, full of superstition, fanaticism, selfishness and
hostility. A person cannot do without religion. Religions need renewal. It is
necessary to wipe off the hostility, the division, the superstition, to purify
the dogmatism, to rise up the morality, to give to those ancient (already
degenerated) teachings a modern and acceptable view, to adapt them to
the needs of today’s life, to simplify them, to cultivate them. Surely, once
the temporary and false layers are removed, in all religions the same basic
principles will be manifested.15
The aim of the Theosophists is to simplify through a historical-critical

investigation religious teachings to their primal form, in order their
worshipers to understand that they serve the same God, that the revelation
of the same nature raises one by one all religions in historical life of peoples,
that all religious teachers are the mouth of the One and the Same Teacher,
and that their followers and devotees are brothers in spirit (…).16
The need to reduce the religious message to its basic form – the true,
original form, manifests itself also among the National Revival writers. For
example, Ikonomov, when he makes an appeal for the reform of religion,
i.e. the removal of historical accretions and obsolete ideas, resembles
the doctrine of the first Christians, although he stresses that this reform
would not mean a return to the roots, which Protestantism was supposed
to do, because the Orthodox Church embraces a “historical development
of Christianity.” Therefore the Church should adapt itself to modern times
and retain the “eternal truth and belief in the Gospel”. Thus, according to
15
Nikolaj Rajnov, “Mesija i suevernite,” [The Messiah and the superstitious] Orfej
5–6 (1926): 6.
16
Nikolaj Rajnov, “Predrazsădăci za teosofija,” [Prejudices about theosophy] Orfej
3–4 (1925): 5.
the 19th century writers, the vision of religion appropriate for modern times
makes reference to the concept of natural religion – rational but based
on the Gospel ideal, on the eternal truths of Christianity which manifest
themselves most fitingly in the community of the first believers.
Also in the esotericists the point is not to revert to the past but to “distil”
the essence. Since this essence recurs, endures, it means that it is reliable
and permanent. As a result of the esoteric reform, religion is supposed
not to represent faith but knowledge. This obviously refers to the ancient
occult traditions but also actualizes the modern division between “religion
and faith,” although the division is peculiarly reversed. A redefined religion
(which is no longer a cult) becomes a positive concept – in contradistinction
to faith, which presupposes “dogmatism,” i.e. servitude, therefore an
irrational attitude, unworthy of man as a free being. As a result, the premise
which is supposed to speak in favour of the engagement of such a unit
may be exclusively the authority of science. Thus Religion offers scientific
knowledge, knowledge based on Reason, Law and the Law of Nature, i.e.
it is based on experience instead of speculation. This “dogmatism” refers
both to external customs as well as to the imposed pseudo-truths about the
world, which emerged due to human speculation.
Religion has come into the world as a science. The task of religion is in the
torchlight, which now I deliver to you, to improve man organically. This
is precisely its aim, this is the aim; not to teach people to believe in God
– this is not the aim. Religion will give forms and ways for straightening, for
cultivating of feelings. The question of God is quite another thing. (...). The
question of God is not a matter of faith, but experience. (...) (...) Religion is
an aid to improvement.17
True knowledge implies knowing of the laws and the principles of the great
life, not knowledge of rituals and forms.18
There is a fundamental conviction that learning about the laws, and

therefore the rules of action, ensures happiness because lack of knowledge,
superstition carries violence. In this context there is a manifestation of not
only the Enlightenment belief in Reason but also the cult of instrumental
reason. This type of cognition brings a bond with the world and with other
people – this is the essence of religion. Religion means a moral attitude
which results from the attainment of harmony with existence, and therefore
the feeling of unity (brotherhood). The culmination of this line of reasoning
is the quite optimistic assumption that knowledge leads to good things.
17
Dănov, Enciklopedičen rečnik, 630–31.
18
Dănov, Enciklopedičen rečnik, 815.
Someone who does not learn cannot be good. They say: ’He is capable, but
a little bit bad.’ The capable one cannot be bad. The student who learns well
cannot be bad. (...) Those who do not learn could become bad. Those who
are able to study always become good. And when I say sometimes: learn, I
understand, show the goodness.19
It is in this sense that knowledge has a practical dimension, i.e. one which
refers to life hic et nunc. This aspect is particularly emphasised by Dănov,
although the Bulgarian Theosophists also indicated the utility of religion
conceived of in such a way.
The aim of Theosophy today is to come into the life, to accomplish itself,
from religious belief to become religious experience, from aesthetics to
creation, from conceptual program to visible reality.20
The task of man is to reach that positive science that has an application in
all areas of life.21
The practical dimension of religion which is reducible to its moral message

was also stressed by the 19th-century writers. However, in this approach,
Christianity with its supposedly key postulate of brotherhood and equality
is considered to constitute the best religion. Whereas the Bulgarian
esotericists also mentioned Christianity as the concept which lies at the
source of correct but sometimes distorted religion.
If you look at the results of the present Christianity, you will find that there
is something wrong in its methods. Indeed, the aspirations of the Christians
are right, their wishes are also right, but the methods they apply are crooked.
Consequently, the crooked Christian methods do not achieve what they can
achieve. Christians adopted the methods of the pagans, which brought in
large errors. Today Christians should adjust their methods to achievements.
The task of Christianity is not in proving the existence of God. (…) The task
of Christianity was to create a bond between all people, to grow, to develop,
to liberate themselves from the restrictions and the slavery of sin.22
We need to study the teaching of Christ as a great science, not as a dogma,

because the dogma is a letter that tightens and stops progress.23
Christ is evaluated today. Thousands of churches have been built in his name.
Everybody lights candles for Him, but whatever crimes are done today, they
are done in his name! He is still silent... So Christ is good, perfect, because
19
20
Rajnov, “Predrazsădăci za teosofija,” 7.
21
Dănov, Enciklopedičen rečnik, 815–16.
22
23
he never protests. If Christ lived on Earth today, he would be in conflict with

those who believe in Him.24
However, emphasis is placed on the universal Religion which is above all

other religions because it is their abstraction and not a superior historical
form. Also in this context the point is about the culmination of development
but in the consciousness of mankind, a culmination which is possible to
achieve by the revelation provided by teachers, Übermensch. The main object,
however, is not the principle of co-existence, but the truth about the whole
cosmos. Ikonomov and Seliminski, similarly as Dănov, Nikov and Rajnov
talk about a purely moral ideal: brotherhood and equality as the essence
of the message of the sole true religion. Thus they somehow attest the
presence of the Enlightenment vision of religion as morality. Nevertheless,
there is a substantial difference between them: as the 19th-century writers
perceive the ideal somehow in the secularised Christianity (while they
remain theists), esotericians of the beginning of the 20th century seek a
reference to the supernatural (while they believe in the divine unity).
For as the Bulgarians esotericists emphasise, the point is not about
salvation ordained from above but about self-education originating from
the interior of one’s own ego. Thus not only the gnostic principle makes
itself manifest but also the main tenet of the Enlightenment: that man is the
captain of his soul and that he may create existence – become a savior. And
it is in this context that the key role of the concept of upbringing/education
as self-education, i.e. the development of one’s potential, manifests itself.
Therefore here the point is about a special type of self-cognition – the
cognition of the world by knowing oneself, for the cosmos is a whole and it
is governed by the same rules.
Education as the acquisition of knowledge but also the formation of
one’s soul refers to the modern idea of Bildung. The intellectual formation
carries a moral attitude. An in this sense it is the postulate of practical,
positive knowledge because this knowledge serves humanity. The idea
of education/formation is expressed by Bulgarian esotericists both by
the ideas established in Bulgarian culture such as education, upbringing,
improvement and neologisms: sebekultura (self-cultivation).
[The truth about the reincarnation] highlights all the great importance of
self-cultivation, of ascending to heights of ideals.25
Religion aims to cultivate the heart (…).26
24
25
Nikov, Preraždanieto, 94.
26
In this context, we can see both teachings of Dănov and Theosophist, and
life itself is supposed to be the best school.
The one and only meaning of life is that it is a school and the founders
of religions and their followers, holy priests, are teachers. You don’t go to
school for rights and pleasures, but for obligations and work.27
The whole life is a divine school, not just the one you visit.28
The occult school is a system of methods for self-education. Each occult

school helps a man know himself (…).29
The belief in education as the method of attaining happiness – both individual

and collective happiness – basically suffuses all aspects of the Bulgarian
culture of the National Revival. It is even said that the Enlightenment
nature of the Bulgarian culture is reducible to the illuminative ideas. The
idea of enlightenment/illumination/education constitutes a leitmotif of the
entire 19th century. Of course, both the conceptual range and the point of
reference are subject to change but the ideal remains permanent. Although
in the 1830s and 1840s the point was about knowing oneself, the world and
God (and therefore knowledge is universalistic), in the 1860s and 1870s
emphasis was placed on practice. Thus there emerged an opposition between
humanistic knowledge and useful knowledge. Positively evaluated utility
manifests itself also in Bulgarian esotericists, although there is a shift of a
universalistic nature. Once again the point is about knowing oneself, the
world and God. However, natural science as the knowledge about the laws
of the cosmos continues to be a point of reference. This is visible also in the
rhetoric: there are examples drawn from everyday life, the positive sciences
and Science in general.
The goal of the new-old Religion is the establishment of the “Kingdom
of God on earth.” This fact most fitfully reveals the secularisation of
thought: the object of interest and also of optimistic belief is a reference to
temporal life, hic et nunc. In this context I omit the questions of races and
the development of perfection. Although many worlds or cosmic dimensions
are mentioned – especially in Dănov’s case – the point is about the hic et
nunc life, about a method.
Religion as a teaching about the Truth, the Way and the Life is the only
essential thing to man – not the religion of rituals and fanatical teachings
which propagate hatred and persecution.30
27
28
29
30
The same blood flows in the veins of all people. If we comprehend this fact,
this is the New teaching, and religion should be reformed so. If the future
religion does not comprehend this great law, it is sentenced to listen to ’God
rest her soul’ for one hundred years. (...) And as we meet each other, we
should know we are brothers. In that case we have other knowledge, other
teaching, and those barriers, which are today among us, will disappear. And
a new life will start (…).31
***
In this way the deep, Enlightenment ideological background of the esoteric
projects manifest itself. It is based not only on the ancient idea of cognition/
gnosis but also on the modern cult of knowledge/science. It propagates not
only the occult idea of the afterworldly unity with the divinity but also a
modern vision of a universal religion which serves Humanity in its progress
to happiness on earth; a rational and moral religion. In this context there
appears both the ancient idea of self-cognition and self-perfection and
the idea of evolution as the change of forms, and, most emphatically – the
idea of progress as spiritual, quantitative development, as a universal and
necessary Law.
In the case of the Bulgarian esotericists the criticism of religion is
realised in the Orthodox context, whereas the participants of the polemics
include both the representatives of the Church and of science and/or
materialism. In this sense, the Western criticism of religion must be
adapted. Hence, mention is made about the Bulgarian esoteric tradition,
especially the Bogomil tradition, but also about the cultural messianism
of the Bulgarians. The native context manifests itself also in the cult of
science – the National Revival constructs an image of the Enlightenment/
Illumination as the only way to individual and collective happiness.32 And
it is the school/education and self-cultivation/formation that constitute a
determinant of the Bulgarian path to modernity. Therefore, we may inquire
about the role of these ideas/concepts in the dissemination of the esoteric
ideal in Bulgaria, but this is a question for another paper.
31
32
Cf. Ewelina Drzewiecka, Od przyjemności do pomyślności, czyli o pożytkach
z (bułgarskiego) „oświecenia” [From pleasure to prosperity, or about the benefits of the
(Bulgarian) “enlightenment”], in Małe przyjemności: katalog słowiański, ed. by E. Solak et al
(Kraków: «Scriptum», 2016), 225–238.
References
Dănov, Petăr. Bălgarskata duša . Sofija: Astrala, 2000.
——— Enciklopedičen rečnik. Idei, principi, zakoni, praktičeski săveti i pravila ot slovoto
na Učitelja. Sofija: Astrala, 1997.
Drzewiecka, Ewelina. Od przyjemności do pomyślności, czyli o pożytkach z
(bułgarskiego) „oświecenia”. In Małe przyjemności: katalog słowiański, edited
by E. Solak, B. Popiołek, B. Todorović, 225–238. Kraków: «Scriptum», 2016.
Koselleck, Reinhart. Futures Past: On the Semantics of Historical Time. New York:
Columbia University Press, 2004.
——— The Practice of Conceptual History: Timing History, Spacing Concepts. Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 2002.
Kovačev, Todor. Učitelja Beinsa Duno. Spravočnik na besedite i lekciite, molitvite,
muzikalnite upražnenija, Panevritmijata, gimnastičeskite upražnenija (1896–1944).
Sofija: Žanua, 2004.
Nikov, Sofronij. V zaštita na religijata: Skazki. Kazanlăk: izdanie s pomošta na Todor
Šiškov, 1911.
——— Osnovnite văprosi na života: I serija skazki, dăržani v teosofskoto obštestvo po
stenografski beležki. Skazka 1–7. Sofija: I. Ambil i sie, 1919.
——— Preraždanieto. Edna otdavna zabravena istina. Sofija: Lazar Kotev, 1922.
Rajnov, Nikolaj. “Mesija i suevernite.” Orfej 5–6 (1926): 2–7.
——— “Predrazsădăci za teosofija .” Orfej 3–4 (1925): 1–7.
——— “Kopnežăt na narodite.” Palitra 2 (2009), http://www.palitrabg.net/35kn.htm.
Accessed May 28, 2016.
——— “Mistika i bezverie.” Palitra 7 (2004), http://www.palitrabg.net/7m.htm.
Accessed May 28, 2016.
Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007.
——— Modern Social Imaginaries. Durham: Duke University Press, 2003.
821.161.1.09
929:82 Bryusov V.
Eugene Kuzmin
independent scholar
Valerij Brjusov (1873–1924): Selling the Soul

as a Method of Research
Sympathy for the Devil and demonism in Russian fin-de-siècle literary

circles are apparent and well-known; they have been widely studied and
described from various perspectives. The prominent role of Valerij Brjusov
(1873–1924), the Russian poet, historian and critic, in that trend is also
commonly acknowledged. Brjusov himself became a character in many
private horror stories in literary circles.
However, it has remained entirely unnoticed that Brjusov’s occult
ideas constitute a part of his epistemological theory. This theory shows that
Brjusov clearly and openly preached his own original belief, which may
be defined as a special kind of Satanism or even, it might rather be said,
scientific Satanism.
Notably, Brjusov builds a scientific framework for his occult
speculations. Notwithstanding the debate on the role of occultism in
* Eugeniuskuzminus@gmail.com; yevgeni_kuzmin@yadvashem.org.il

Actually, any comprehensive bibliography in this case is a very difficult task. The
problem has been discussed in the vast literature, in the great quantity of texts. For a general
introduction see, for instance, Kristi A. Groberg, “’The Shade of Lucifer’s Dark Wing’:
Satanism in Silver Age Russia,” in The Occult in Russian and Soviet Culture, ed. Bernice Glatzer
Rosenthal (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1997), 99–133; Aage A. Hansen-
Löve, Der russische Symbolismus. System und Entwicklung seiner Motive, Band I: Diabolischer
Symbolismus (Vienna: Verlag der Österrechischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1989);
Sergej Slobodnjuk, „D‘javoly“ serebrjanogo veka: drevnij gnosticizm i russkaja literatura
1890–1930 gg. [’Devils‘ of the Silver Age: Ancient Gnosticism and Russian Literature in the
1890–1930s] (Sankt Peterburg: Aleteja, 1998); Liana Vladimirovna Popova, “Demonizm v
poezii Serebrjanogo veka” [Demonism in the Poetry of the Silver Age], Vestnik Kostromskogo
Universiteta 6:19 (2013): 175–179. Valerij Brjusov is an important personage in all these
works.

Sergej Šargorodskij, “Tayny Ofielja: Tri okkul’tnyh epizoda Serebrjanogo veka”
[Secrets of Ophiel: Three occult incidents in the time of Silver Age], Toronto Slavic Quarterly
38 (2011): 59–109.
134 Eugene Kuzmin
Brjusov’s worldview and the nature of his occultism, there is a common

assumption that his occult worldview was of a distinctly rational character.
For instance, Marina Cvetaeva (1892–1941) in her text about Brjusov
“Geroj truda” [Hero of Labour] compares him to medieval rationalists, who,
according to her testimony, were defined as magi [černoknižniki] in the
Middle Ages. Also Georgij Čulkov (1879–1939) noted: “Brjusov thought
that occult knowledge may be successfully combined with the scientific
approach”. Vladislav Hodasevič (1886–1839) gave a very similar opinion
in his memoirs Nekropol [Necropolis].
Indeed, Brjusov applies occultism to his rational or even scientific
theories. He discusses it in connection with his epistemological theory,
which he developed and propagated throughout his entire life. Yet, in his
early work О iskusstve [On Art] published in 1899, Brjusov declares the need
to produce a new kind of science, which consists of modern science, art,
magic and Spiritism. Each of these elements of future knowledge reflects
only one side of human cognition. However, their unity will enable true,
comprehensive awareness. The old forms of human knowledge, such as
magic and Spiritism (Brjusov believed in its antiquity), also derive from
a venerable tradition. Such a tradition reflects the eternal reality. On the

The bibliography is vast; the discussion was initiated by Brjusov’s contemporaries.
However, some general conclusions with bibliography may be found in S.P. Abramovič,
“Bogoborčestvo kak skvoznoy motiv tvorčestva V. Ja. Brjusova” [Theurgy as Leitmotif in
the works of V. Ja. Brjusov], in Brjusovskie čtenija 1996 goda (Jerevan: Lingva, 2001), 45–53;
N.V. Prošina, “Avtobiografičeskij mif Valerija Brjusova” [Autobiographical myth of Valerij
Brjusov], in Brjusovskiye čtenija 2006 goda (Jerevan: Lingva, 2007), 221–231; N. A. Bogomolov,
Russkaja literatura načala 20-go veka i okkul’tizm: Issledovanija i materialy [Russian Literature
in the Beginning of the 20th Century and Occultism: Study and Sources] (Moscow: NLO,
1999), 279–310; S. Šargorodskij, “Tajny Ofielja”.

The first publication of the essay appears in Prague, in the weekly Volja Rossia [The
Will of Russia], 1925, issues 9-10, 11. The text has many reprints, including in her most
complete Sobranie sočinenij v 7-mi tomah [Collected Works in 7 vols.] (Moscow: Èllis Lak,
1994-1997), 4:12–63, 637–642).

In a special section on Brjusov in Čulkov’s autobiography Years of Wanderings [Gody
stranstvij], first published in 1930. All translations of Russian quotations were made by the
author of this article.

The first edition is: Vladislav Hodasevič, Nekropol’: Vospominanija [Necropolis:
Memoirs] (Bruxelles:Petropolis, 1939). The book has many reprints. The mentioned remark
appears in the beginning of the section on Brjusov.

Initially it was published as a separate brochure. Reprinted in his, Sobranie sočinenij
6 [Collected Works] (Moscow: Hudožestvennaja literatura, 1973–1975), 43–54.

See Brjusov’s article “Spiritizmi do Ročesterskih stukov” [Spiritism Before the
Rochester Rappings], Rebus 7 (February 17, 1902): 69–71; 11 (March 17, 1902): 109–111;
14 (April 7, 1902): 143–144; 18 (May 5 1902): 180–181; 29 (July 21, 1902): 271–273. Also
in his novel The Fiery Angel Brjusov describes the case of such rappings in the 16th century
(chapter 3).
Valerij Brjusov (1873–1924): Selling the Soul as a Method of Research 135
other hand, scientific knowledge and art deal only with transitory facts. Yet,
Brjusov’s brief article is completely speculative. It lacks precise examples
and clear arguments, but shows the general direction of the author’s
thinking.
There is a remark in Brjusov’s diary on the union of magic and art (art
particularly means poetry for Brjusov). He noted close to the date of writing
the article: “The mystery of words and their power is great… a person, who
knows incantations, is happy”. About a year after the publication of On
Art, Brjusov notes in an interview, that man has drastically changed. Thus,
he needs a new kind of knowledge.10
As we have already seen, Spiritism is one of the main elements of
the new science. Brjusov continues to discuss his idea of the new science
in his articles on Spiritism. In 1900 he publishes in the journal Rebus
his text “Мetod mediumizma” [The Method of Mediumship],11 where he
elaborates on his theory. For Brjusov, any phenomenon with regularity is a
subject for research. Yet, various sciences have dissimilar methodologies.
Each kind of human knowledge applies its peculiar methods. For instance,
the experimental sciences and the humanities have quite different sets of
approaches. But there is a common false assumption that mediumship may
be approached with the scientific method of physics and chemistry, i.e. of
the experimental sciences. However, in fact, these sciences may perceive
phenomena only within time and three-dimensional space. So they cannot
be applied to any inquiry on spiritual things. In our (i.e. in Brjusov’s) time
it is very popular to believe in the efficacy of psychology for research on
Spiritism. But, the temporal succession is most central for psychology, while
the world of spirits lacks this category.12 Thus, there is a clear problem of a
methodological nature. It causes the scientific establishment’s attempts to
discredit mediumship, when it should rather search for explanations for it.
Finally, Brjusov makes two conclusive assertions:
1. Spiritism is a real thing. It works. It should be studied.
2. There is no known methodology for any research on Spiritism.

Valerij Brjusov, Dnevniki 1891–1910 [Diaries, 1891–1910] (Moscow, 1927; repr.
Letchworth. Herts, England: Bradda Books, 1972), 47.
10
In the interview about P.D. Bobrykin’s play “Nakip’” [Limescale]. See Russkij listok
1900, October 12. Repr.: Valerij Brjusov. Sredi Stikhov. 1894–1924. Manifesty, stat’i, recenzii
[Amidst Poems: Manifestos, Articles, Reviews] (Moscow: Sovetskij pisatel’, 1990), 58–59.
11
Brjusov, “Metod mediumizma,” Rebus 30 (1900): 257–259. Repr. in: Bogomolov,
Russkaja literatura načala 20-go veka i okkul’tizm, 298–302.
12
Comp.: “… time has stopped to me as to dead according to the theory of Spiritism,
and now it lasts a long day of separation.” Valerij Brjusov, Perepiska: Nina Petrovskaja (1904–
1913) [Correspondence: Nina Petrovskaja] (Moscow: NLO, 2004), 83.
136 Eugene Kuzmin
However, Brjusov produces his original practical deduction – man is the

ruler of nature, but is not supernatural, he must fully comply with unknown
powers to understand their will and nature.
This article caused a debate.13 Brjusov reacted with his new
article “Ešče o metodah mediumizma” [Again towards the methods of
mediumship].14 Let us reproduce his main assertions. There are many facts
about Spiritism. Now it is time for a theory, which would explain these
facts. But there is no idea of any precise approach. The methodology of
the experimental sciences is neither universal, nor entirely, absolutely true.
The experimental sciences cannot reach the absolute truth. That may only
be found in mathematics. Yet, its results are important for our mind, but
not for external reality. Mediumship contradicts physics. In Spiritism the
laws of physics do not work. Moreover, mediumship lacks causality.
Brjusov suggests three methods of studying Spiritism:
1. Accurate observation of the medium. Actually, a researcher should
collect any facts about anything that has any connection with the
medium.
2. Connection with the spiritual power (spirits themselves). This is
also a method of magic and prophecy.
3. Observation of any paranormal activity.
The second approach is most important. Personal acquaintance with the
spirit is a goal for the researcher, because any reliable information may be
obtained only through the guidance of a spirit.
Among Brjusov’s articles on Spiritism the most widely known and
discussed bears the title “To Each of Those, Who Search” [“Ko vsem, kto
iščet”] It was initially published as an introduction to the book of poems
The Ladder [“Lestvitsa”] by the prominent medium and poet Aleksandr Lang
13
For instance, Mihail Petrovo-Solovovo, a regular contributor to the Rebus reacted
(issue 32,August 6, 1900: 278–279) with his “Po povodu stat’i ‘Metod mediumizma’”
[Concerning the article ‘The Method of Mediumship’]. L. Bether published a letter “Po
povodu polemiki o ‘metode mediumizma’” [Concerning the polemic around ‘Method of
Mediumship’] (in Rebus 48, November 24, 1900: 418–419). See also A.B. [A. Berzin, i.e.
Aleksandr Lang], “Po povodu ‘vozraženija’ g-na Petrovo-Solovovo g-nu Brjusovu” [Concerning
Mr. Petrovo-Solovovo’s “objections” to Mr. Brjusov] Rebus 34, August 20, 1900: 293–294.
Petrovo-Solovovo responded with “Po povodu ‘vozrazheniy’ gospodina A.B.” [Concerning
the ‘objections’ of Mr. A.B.] in Rebus 37, September 11, 1900: 321–323.
14
Valerij Brjusov, “Ešče o metodah mediumizma” [Again towards the Methods of
Mediumship”]. Published in Rebus 41 (1900): 349–351. Repr.: N. A. Bogomolov, Russkaja
literature načala 20-go veka i okkul’tizm, 303–308.
(1872–1917).15 Here Brjusov starts with an apology for Spiritism. He asserts

that it has only two kinds of critics:
1. Those who hate any kind of discussions on spiritual matters.
2. “Mystics.”16 They cannot accept Spiritism, because it appeals to
experiment and, thus, the experimental science.
Mystics rejects the new trends of thinking. On the other hand, modern
science is much restricted by its own rules, which were produced by
Descartes and Bacon long ago.17 In our own time there is a crisis of both
spirituality and science. We have received a vast heritage of unexplained
and unused facts. The material manifestations of the spiritual realm show a
clear duality. Spiritism falls between its material and spiritual components.
Here Brjusov does not produce any clear conclusion. He only declares the
importance of the study of mediumship.
Lang’s book with Brjusov’s introduction was widely discussed. Many
famous persons reacted to it, among them, for instance, the prominent
masonic activist Petr Aleksandorovič Čistjakov,18 writer, poet and literary
critic Ieronim Jasinskij (1850–1930),19 theologian, philosopher and scientist
Pavel Florenskij (1882–1943).20 But for us it is important that Brjusov also
anonymously criticized his own introduction to the book. He published
his article under the title “Our Decadents.”21 The general tone sounds like
bitter criticism. However, in its main points there is no real development
of Brjusov’s initial concept. In his anonymous article, Brjusov defends the
positive sciences. He also emphasizes that there is a false assumption of
the unclear and vague nature of mysticism. Finally, he says that Brjusov
15
Aleksandr Miropol’skij (pseudonym of Aleksandr Lang), Lestviča [The Ladder of
Divine Ascent] (Moscow: Skorpion, 1902), 7–22; repr.: Brjusov. Sredi Stihov, 61–68.
16
Brjusov does not explain the term. From the context it may be supposed that
Brjusov means partisans of any religious irrational philosophy.
17
Brjusov does not specify Bacon’s personal name. Thus, it cannot be clear whether
he means Roger Bacon (c. 1219/20–c. 1292) or Francis Bacon (1561–1626). However, since
he refers to the modern scientific method, he, most probably thinks about Francis.
18
P. Čistjakov, “Lestvitsa. Poema A.L. Miropol’skogo,” Rebus 2, 12 January, 1903:
200–21. Although Čistjakov is a famous masonic activist and editor, his biography has never
been studied.
19
<I. Jasinskij> “Lestvitsa. Poema v 7-mi glavah A.L. Miropol’skogo. M., 1903.”
Počtal’on 2 (1903): 95.
20
Pavel Florenskiy, “Spiritizm kak antikhristianstvo. Po povodu dvuh poem:
‘Lestvitsa’ A.L. Miropol’skogo, 1902; A. Belyj ‘Severnaja simfonija’ (1-ay geroičeskaja),
1903.” [Spiritism and anti-Christianity. Concerning two poems: ‘The Ladder,’ L. Miropol’ski,
1902; A. Belyj ‘The Northerm Symphony’ (1st Heroic), 1903], Novyj Put’ 3 (1904): 149–167.
There are many reprints of this article.
21
In Moskovskie vedomosti 340, December 10, 1902: 5. Repr.: Brjusov. Sredi Stihov,
68–70.
138 Eugene Kuzmin
(meaning himself in the criticized text) builds his own kind of science, but
he does not entirely believe in the value of his own ideas.
In 1904 Brjusov publishes his articles “The Keys of Secrets” [Ključi
tajn], which is based on his lecture of 1903.22 He again discusses the new
science, saying that оnly through art can man reach a supernatural and
eternal reality. The experimental sciences and rational knowledge are very
restricted in their goals and capabilities. They may only serve as auxiliary
disciplines for the systematisation of knowledge.
As I have already shown, any attempt to produce a precise method
leads Brjusov to the idea of guidance by an unknown supernatural power.
This idea, of the guidance of Satan as the main method of the new science,
is described by Brjusov in his celebrated novel The Fiery Angel. This case is
of particular value, since Brjusov is not always serious in his articles, but he
elaborated his fictions for many years. Evidently, Brjusov started to think
about this novel already in 1897. The first known plans and revisions of
separate parts date from 1904–1905. The text was finally completed only
in 1908.23 Brjusov included long and sophisticated discussions on occult
theories in the novel. The main successful magicians in the text are Agrippa
and Faust. Their words have many parallels and may be interpreted as a
dialogue, although these magicians do not meet in the novel. Moreover,
Brjusov returns to the discussion of these two kinds of magic in his other
texts. I published an article about that and I do not want to discuss it here
at length.24 Briefly speaking, Agrippa is an example of a theorist, an adept,
who diligently studies an ancient tradition, but rejects any kind of occult
hocus-pocus. Faust believes in experiment, in practice. He studies magic
directly from Mephistopheles. Actually, this daemon himself proclaims,
that man cannot succeed in magic without supernatural assistance. The
main protagonist discusses Faust’s pact with Satan. Faust says that any pact
with the devil is an unreal thing indeed. Men and daemons have not enough
common ground for unity. There are two kinds of spiritual creatures – good
and evil. They both tend only to their profit, whether it is for the glory
22
The first edition in: Vesy 1 (1904): 3–21. Repr. in: Brjusov, Sredi Stihov, 81–101;
Brjusov, Sobranie Sočinenij, 6: 73–93.
23
A. Belečkij, “Pervyj istoričeskij roman V.Ja. Brjusova” [The First Historical Novel by
V. Ja. Brjusov], Naučnye zapiski Har’kovskogo pedinstituta 3 (1940): 5–32; S.S. Grečiškin and A.
V. Lavrov, “O rabote Brjusova nad romanom ‘Ognennyj angel,’” [Concerning Brjusov’s work
on his novel Fiery Angel] in Brjusovskiye čtenija 1971 goda (Jerevan: Lingva, 1973), 121–137; E.
Čudeckaja, “Ognennyj angel: Istorija sozdanija i pečati” [Fairy Angel: History of Creation and
Publication], in V. Ja. Brjusov, Sobranie sočinenij (Moscow, 1973–75), 4: 341–349.
24
E. Kuzmin, “Faust i Agrippa v povesti V. Brjusova Ognennyy angel: Dva obraza
magii,” [Faust and Agrippa in V. Brjusov’s Novel Fiery Angel: Two Kinds of Magic] Voprosy
literatury 5 (2012): 414–420.
of God or Satan. Only man may harm himself to understand the whole
universe in its both parts, good and evil. The best example of such activity
is Christ’s sacrificial death. He harms himself for the atonement of all
humankind. The magician acts similarly, he sacrifices his immortal soul for
the ultimate knowledge. In this case he acts like God. And thus, his activity
may be described as pious.
In 1908 Brjusov publishes a story, “Nočnoe putešestvie” [Night
journey],25 which explains this concept. Here the Devil appears to an
unnamed protagonist. The Devil tries to prove his superiority over man.
He shows miraculous life on a remote planet. But the protagonist laughs
at that, because human writers have already described more marvellous
worlds. The Devil becomes angry and the protagonist sends him away with
a simple magic formula.
In 1918 Brjusov writes another story, “Toržestvo nauki” [Triumph
of Science].26 Here the protagonist visits a “Theurgical Institute,” where
scientists have succeeded in the material resurrection of the dead. The
appearance of the resurrected persons reflect their own concept of
themselves. Finally, all of them are terribly ugly and have no ability of
normal cognition. The frightened protagonist rushes from the institute
towards living people.
Now let us summarize this article. Brjusov builds a framework for
a new science, which includes art, modern science and occult knowledge.
Brjusov openly declares these ideas in his articles (for instance, “On Art”,
“Method of Mediumship”, “Again towards Methods of Mediumship”, “To
Those Who Search”) and prose (The Fiery Angel). Yet, the main method of
his new science is “selling one’s soul to the Devil,” complete and absolute
obedience to spirits or any guest from a supernatural reality. Thus, Brjusov’s
demonism is far from aesthetic fashion and the mask of decadency.
Paradoxically, Brjusov preached his original kind of Satanism in the circles
with Satanistic inclinations, but he was misunderstood, and his message
was partly misinterpreted as a joke.
References
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pedinstituta 3 (1940): 5–32.
25
The first edition in: Vesy 11(1908): 19–21. The text has many reprints.
26
First published after the author’s death in: Tehnika-molodëži 12 (1963): 16–18. The
text has many reprints.
140 Eugene Kuzmin
Bether, L. “Po povodu polemiki o ‘metode mediumizma.’” Rebus 48 (November 24,

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1903.” Novyj Put’ 3 (1904): 149–167.
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930.85(=161.1)(497.1)”1920/1930”
821.161.1.09(497.1)”1920/1930”
Konstantin Burmistrov
Institute of Philosophy, Russian Academy of Sciences, Moscow
Russian Emigration of the 1920s–1930s

in Yugoslavia and Esotericism
After the Civil War in Russia, no fewer than 50,000 Russian immigrants,
mostly associated with the White Army, settled in the Kingdom of Serbs,
Croats and Slovenes. The government and especially King Alexander
I Karađorđević tried to create the most favorable conditions for new
immigrants. By February 1921, about 215 colonies of the Russian refugees
were established in Yugoslavia. It is not surprising that numerous Russian
cultural and educational institutions, societies, publishing houses emerged
in the main cities, including Belgrade and Novi Sad. Not a few people among
the immigrants were still in Russia engaged in spiritual pursuits belonging
to various esoteric schools and groups. Thus, in the 1920s-1930s Yugoslavia
became one of the most important centers of Russian esotericism in exile.
However, in the variety of esoteric movements we can distinguish two main
directions: right-wing, politicized, nationalist occultism – and universalistic
esotericism, not related to politics.
If we consider the Russian occult books, published in Yugoslavia in
the 1920s, we would find that most of their authors belong to the right-
wing, anti-communist camp. A great deal of these books was published
by Mihail Kovalev, a Russian emigrant from Harkov, who became the
largest publisher of right-wing occult literature in Yugoslavia. In 1921
he established the “Svjatoslav” publishing house in Sremska Mitrovica
* kburmistrov@hotmail.com

Cf. Michael Hagemeister, “Mnimyj pseudonim. Ob avtore trehtomnika Ritual’noye
ubijstvo u evreev’,” [False pseudonym. About the author of three-volumed “Ritual murder
among Jews”] in Psevdonimy russkogo zarubežja (Pseudonyms of the Russian emigration),
ed. M. Šruba & O. Korostelev (Moscow: NLO, 2016), 137. For the complete list of the books
published by M. Kovalev in Yugoslavia in 1921–1938, see Jovan Kačaki, Ruske izbeglice u
Kraljevini SHS/Jugoslaviji: bibliografija radova 1920–1944: pokušaj rekonstrukcije [Russian
refuges in Kingdom of Yugoslavia: bibliography 1920–1944: an attempt in reconstruction]
(Beograd : Knjižara Žagor [s.a.], 2003).
144 Konstantin Burmistrov
and in that very year he published the book The Truth about the Protocols
of the Elders of Zion (Pravda o Sionskih protokolah) (Sremska Mitrovica:
Typ. N. Stojanović, 1921) by the most influential Russian occult and
nationalistic author Gregor Bostunič (1883–1946?). Then Kovalev moved
to Novi Sad, and printed a few books of occult and mystical content in
this town. One of his first books published by Kovalev was a pamphlet
about global conspiracy and apocalyptic prophecies What Will Happen to
Russia? Predictions of the Elders of the Optina Monastery (Čto budet s Rossiej:
optinskie predskazanija, edited by G. Bostunič, 1922). Among the books he
published were also anti-communist and anti-Semitic novels of the famous
Russian writer and journalist Nikolaj Breško-Breškovskij Under the Star
of the Devil (Pod zvezdoj djavola, 1923) and The Seal of Damnation (Pečat’
zabvenija, 1925). Kovalev also published a number of fantastic and occult
novels, including Pavel Tutkovskij’s The Finger of God (The Death of Russian
Communism) [Perst Božij (Gibel’ russkoj kommuny), 1924], Vladimir
Vargunin’s Utopia of a Dream: The Story of the Enchanted Realm of Modern
Life (Utopija mečty: Povest’ iz sovremennoj žizni carstva zakoldovannogo,
1925), Eugeny Pasypkin’s Light is a Winner: A Historical and Occult Novel
from the Times of Ancient Egypt (Svet-Pobeditel’: istoriko-okkul’tnij roman
iz vremen Drevnego Egipta, 1925). Kovalev also published an apocalyptic
and occult treatise God and Lucifer (On Some Problems of the Religious and
Occult life) (Bog i Dennica [po voprosam religioznoj i okkul’tnoj žizni])
(Novi Sad, 1922]) written by a monarchist activist and occultist Boris
Smirnov. This book had been composed in the Crimea in 1920 by Smirnov
and his anonymous teacher who remained in the Crimean mountains after
the capture of the Crimea by the Red Army. It discussed, in particular, the

Nikolaj Nikolaevič Breško-Breškovskij (1874–1943) was a popular Russian writer
and an implacable enemy of Russian communism. In exile, he lived in Warsaw, Paris, Berlin
and wrote nearly 30 novels, which were characterized by occult ideas, anti-Bolshevism
and anti-Semitism. During the World War II collaborated with the Nazi Ministry of Public
Enlightenment and Propaganda.

Lawyer, musician, and writer Pavel Pavlovič Tutkovskij (1889, Kiev – 1959,
Hollywood, CA) was born into a noble family. Participated in the Civil War as a military
prosecutor of the Astrakhan Cossack troops, he emigrated in 1920 and lived in Belgrade.
Tutkovskij was one of the founders of the Union of Russian Writers and Journalists in
Yugoslavia. From 1928 he lived in Paris, then in the United States. He published a dozen
books, including occult fiction novels.

Vladimir Konstantinovič Vargunin (1875 – after 1925) was a Russian officer
(colonel), a member of the White movement. From 1920 lived in Novi Sad.

Evgenij Aleksandrovič Pasypkin (1875–1941) was a Russian officer (colonel), writer,
historian, and Egyptologist. Since 1920 he lived in exile in Yugoslavia. He was the author
of the book The Art of War in Ancient Egypt (1901, in Russian), as well as an occult and the
historical novel Light is a Winner (1925).
Russian Emigration of the 1920s–1930s in Yugoslavia and Esotericism 145
occult aspects of the story of Lucifer-Satanael and his fall in the context of
historical events of that time”.
In 1926, Kovalev moved to Belgrade and there published the most
voluminous anti-Semitic work on the blood libel – The Ritual Murder of the
Jews by Evgenij Brand (Ritual’noe ubijstvo u evreev, in 3 volumes, 1926,
1927, 1929), as well as two last issues of the magazine Luč sveta (A Ray of
Light, nos. VI and VII), an anti-Semitic and anti-Masonic non-periodical
edition edited by Fёdor Vinberg (1868–1927), a Russian army colonel and
monarchist writer. He also published two main works by Gregor Bostunič
– Freemasonry and the Russian Revolution (Masonstvo i russkaja revolyucija)
(Novi Sad, 1922) and Freemasonry in Its Essence and Manifestations
(Masonstvo v svoej suščnosti i projavlenijah) (Belgrade, 1928).
Gregor (Grigorij Vasil’evič) Šwarc-Bostunič was born in Kiev to
a Baltic German father and a mother whose maiden name was Bostunič
– probably of Serbian origin. He had received degrees in law and theology
in Kiev (1908), and became a popular playwright and journalist. In 1910
he established his own newspaper, Južnaja kopejka (The South Penny),
which was running to a daily edition of 100,000 copies by 1914. In this
year he also became Professor of Theatrical and Literary History at the
Lisenko Institute and later assumed the directorship of the Železnodorožnyj
Teatr (Railway Theatre) at Kiev. At that he became an active member of the
Theosophical Society and a number of other esoteric organizations.
At the beginning of the World War One, he happened to be in Germany.
He was interned and sent to a concentration camp, and after the liberation
in 1915, he wrote and published a sharply anti-German memoir From the
Enemy‘s Captivity (Iz vražeskogo plena) (Petrograd 1915).
After the Russian revolution Bostunič became a staunch opponent
of the communists, active as an anti-Bolshevik agitator in towns captured

Evgenij Brand (Erwin Werner Eugen Brandt, 1889–1961) was a Russian officer
who took part in the White movement and lived in exile in Copenhagen. In the 1920–1930
period, he became one of the leaders of Russian monarchists and an active member of some
international anti-Semitic organizations. See about this book and its author: Hagemeister,
“Mnimyj pseudonym”.

The first three issues of the magazine were published in Berlin in 1919–1920, nos.
4 and 5 in Munich in 1922–1923, nos. 6 and 7 in Novi Sad in 1925–1926. On Fёdor Vinberg
and his impact on the early National-Socialist ideology in Germany see Michael Kellogg,
The Russian Roots of Nazism: White Russians and the Making of National Socialism (N.Y.:
Cambridge Univ. Press, 2005), 42–46ff.

For more details about his biography and career see Michael Hagemeister, “Das
Leben des Gregor Schwartz-Bostunitsch,” in Russische Emigration in Deutschland 1918–1941,
ed. Karl Schlögel (Berlin: Akademie, 1995), 209-218; Peter Staudenmaier, Between Occultism
and Nazism: Anthroposophy and the Politics of Race in the Fascist Era (Leiden: Brill, 2014),
220–222.
by the White Army. At that time he adopted the idea of a Jewish-Masonic-

Bolshevik conspiracy and came to believe in the Protocols of the Elders of
Zion. In 1920, in the Crimea, Bostunič preached fanatically against the
Bolsheviks, Freemasons, and Jews. Having emigrated from Russia to
Constantinople in 1920, he continued lecturing and also made contacts
with the famous mystic and spiritual teacher Georgy Gurdjieff (Gurdžiev,
1866/1877–1949) and Bulgarian Theosophists, associated with Peter Dănov
(Beinsa Douno, 1864–1944) who had blended Blavatsky’s esoteric ideas with
his vision of Slavic messianism. Soon he moved to Belgrade and published
his lectures dealing with Freemasonry, Kabbalah, and the global conspiracy
under the title Freemasonv and the Russian Revolution (Masonstvo i russkaja
revolyucija) (Novi Sad, 1922). This book was appearing subsequently in
extracts in German nationalist and right-wing periodicals between 1923
and 1926.
In 1922 Bostunič emigrated to Germany and became an enthusiastic
Anthroposophist, but by 1929 he had reviled Rudolf Steiner’s movement
as just another agent of the pernicious conspiracy. In 1930 he published a
pamphlet attacking Steiner as an occult swindler and false prophet.10
Later Bostunitsch took part in the work of the Ariosophic Society
headed by Herbert Reichstein. He also worked for Alfred Rosenberg’s news
agency and contributed to Völkischer Beobachter and Der Stürmer. He wrote
several anti-Masonic and anti-Semitic books on conspiracy theories and was
appointed an honorary SS professor in 1942, but was barred from lecturing
in uniform because of his unorthodox views. In 1944 he was promoted to
SS-Standartenführer on Himmler’s personal recommendation.
But let us return to the book Bostunitsch published in Novi Sad in
1922. He examines a wide range of topics related to the occult teaching,
geopolitics, Freemasonry and the Jewish question. His main goal was to
explain how such a catastrophe as the revolution and the Civil War was
possible in Russia. As a method for the study of the topic Bostunič used
what he called occultism (or occult analysis). He said that “occultism is a
mystical and at the same time scientific way of understanding and revealing

Cf. Gregor Schwartz-Bostunitsch, “Völkischer Okkultismus,” Ariosophie 4 (1929):
345–350, with its positive references to Steiner and anthroposophy.
10
Gregor Schwartz-Bostunitsch, Doktor Steiner – ein Schwindler wie keiner: Ein
Kapitel über Anthroposophie und die geistige Verwirrungsarbeit der ‘Falschen Propheten’
(Munich: Deutscher Volksverlag, 1930). See about the conflict between Bostunitsch and
anthroposophists: Karl Heyer, Wie man gegen Rudolf Steiner kämpft: Materialien und
Gesichtspunkte zum sachgemäßen Umgang mit Gegnern Rudolf Steiners und der Anthroposophie,
ed. T. Meyer (Basel: Perseus, 2008), 113–119 (the 1st and the 2nd editions of the book were
published in Stuttgart in 1932).
the hidden being within and outside of the world of three dimensions”11.
He tried to discover the true course of events of the Russian revolution,
comparing them with all the revolutions and revolts in the world history,
starting with ancient Rome. Finally he came to a conclusion that there is a
mysterious connection between all the political cataclysms, that all of them
were inspired and conducted by the “the priests of Satan.”12
Very important for Bostunič is a fundamental difference between
“white” and “black” occultism. White occultism is for him the so-called
way of Christ. Black occultism comprises Theosophists, the majority of
European occultists as well as Freemasons who are the servants of the
international secret Jewish government and, in the end, of Satan. Among
the Black Mages he mentioned Eliphas Levi, Papus, Stanislas de Guaita, and
even claimed that Rudolf Steiner also was inclined to join this camp.13
In his view, for white occultists, socialism is a type of devil worship.
Among white occultists Bostunitč highlights Russian Orthodox monks as
well as Peter Dănov: “The head of the Bulgarian white occult fraternity
Peter Dănov is a man of great spiritual achievements, the author of the
remarkable collections of homilies Power and Life.14
Bostunič claims that there are two main ways in the occult – the way
of knowledge and the way of the heart. The first one he also calls the Way
of Kabbalah. This is the way of
a pure and absolute [knowledge], providing a geometric drawing of the
Godhead; sometimes it is very interesting, but as well dangerous ... This is
the way of the majority [of occultists]... it is as if the Western way ... Through
‘The Great Arcana of the Tarot’... and through the legends and the tradition
of the prophet Moses (i.e. the Kabbalah) ... we received ... Egyptian, that is
for the most part Atlantic occult doctrine. But the Eastern [occult] path is
the path of Christ, focused on the development and improvement… This is
the way of Indians ... and the way of heart, whereas “Arcana” and “Kabbalah”
is the way of mind...”15
Much of the book is devoted to denouncing the Jews, who, as Bostunič

claims, are striving to take over the world and consciously and partly
unconsciously serve Satan16. This is typical of the anti-Semitic position;
11
Gregor Bostunič, Masonstvo i russkaja revolyucija [Freemasonry and the Russian
Revolution] (Novi Sad: M. Kovalev, 1922), 10.
12
Ibid., 24–26, 32–35.
13
Ibid., 81–83.
14
Ibid., 163.
15
Ibid., 47.
16
Ibid., 24–35, 198–203 et al.
however, his occult views also left a mark on his attitude toward the Jews.
He writes:
I am not a Judophile or anti-Semite ... There is no misanthropy in the
occult doctrine... Occultism sees a grain of eternal truth in all religions ...
Pogrom (massacre) is the greatest crime and not a solution to the [Jewish]
question17.
Bostunič condemns any calls to the physical extermination of the Jews,

which were rather frequent in the Russian émigré literature of the early
1920s18. He rejects the idea of murder in principle, at the same time
calling for the recognition of all the Jews in Russia as foreigners and their
deportation from the country.
Bostunič held as his mission an opposition to international magic
power – he calls it the Serpent – that strives to capture Europe and the
whole world. The driving force of this process were the Jews, the performers
of their orders – Freemasons, and the superior ruler was Satan himself.
In particular, Bostunitsch expressed fears of introducing Masonic lodges
to the healthy Serbian state – he mentioned three lodges in Belgrade,
Novi Sad and Subotica whose members reportedly were mostly Jews and
Hungarians19.
Bostunič’s second book, Freemasonry in Its Essence and Manifestations
(published in Russian in Belgrade in 1928 and in the same year in Munich
in German) differs essentially from the first one published in Novi Sad.
This is a comprehensive study, equipped with numerous references not
only to the anti-Masonic and anti-Semitic authors, but also on the work
of specialists in European history, the history of Freemasonry, and Jewish
studies. Its author is not so concerned about the painful issue of the Russian
civil war that ended in failure for the white army. He no longer relies on
the works of Christian Orthodox anti-Semitic writers. Now Bostunič takes
the shape of a German scientist. He exposes the Jews and Freemasons in
a calm, academic tone, at the same time referring to the famous German
anti-Semitic authors. This is not surprising: since 1927 he was officially
named a Nazi party spokesman. In the new edition of the book we read
less about black magicians and Satanists, and much more – on the Jewish
global conspiracy, ritual murder, etc. And also about Freemasonry – it is
the main theme of the book. Gradually Bostunič is becoming more and
17
Ibid., 29–30.
18
So, he sharply criticizes Russian army colonel Boris Gladkij’s book The Jews [Židy]
(Graz, 1921) as an “overtly pogrom literature,” where the Jews “are compared with bacilli
and ciliates” which are to be exterminated “without any negotiations.” – Ibid., 181.
19
Ibid., 174–176.
more “Aryan”. If in his first book he advocated a Christian esoteric, here

he calls himself a true Aryan Christian. His enemies are now Catholicism
(”the executioner of culture and instrument of the devil”) and “the Jews” as
Satan’s servants. Surprisingly, Freemasonry now is presented as originally
a noble organization designed to fight evil but gradually conquered
and corrupted by the Jews. It is quite obvious that the whole book was
written under the strong influence of Steiner’s ideas and, in particular,
Steiner’s disciple, geopolitics and right-wing nationalist Karl Heise (1872-
1939)20. In the book Bostunitsch admits his mistake that he previously
underestimated Steiner. Now he calls him the greatest visionary who is
superior to all official theologians in his understanding of Christ. He claims
that Anthroposophy “is not a [heretical] confusion of human nature with
the divine (čelovekobožestvo)… but the way of harmonic comprehension of
the uncreated (i.e. divine) through the creation”21.
Bostunitsch confessed that his book was written under the strong
influence of Heise’s ideas. Moreover, Heise may be even considered his
co-author22: while working on the book Bostunitsch constantly consulted
Heise and received from him numerous letters with instructions (all in all
– several hundred pages)23. Interestingly, Heise is hardly mentioned in the
German editions of the book.
Anyway, by 1930 Bostunič ceases to be publishing in Russian,
and it is very surprising that we find him among the contributors to the
Russian magazine specifically devoted to the problems of the occult and
the supernatural which was founded in 1933 in Belgrade. The name of this
magazine was Okkul’tizm i joga (Occultism and Yoga).
Okkul’tizm i joga was probably one of the longest-lived Russian
émigré periodicals. It was founded by the Russian emigrant, a physician
20
There is a dedication on the first page of the book: “To [my] spiritual teacher – Karl
Heise”. See about Karl Heise and his works: Lorenzo Ravagli, “Vom Ariogermanentum zur
Christosophie. Versuch über Karl Heise,” Jahrbuch für anthroposophische Kritik, 11 (2003), 86–
104; Max Rechsteiner, “Zum Gedenken an Karl Heise,” Mitteilungen der anthroposophischen
Vereinigung in der Schweiz 81 (1986): 34–36.
21
Gregor Bostunič, Masonstvo v svoej suščnosti i projavlenijah (Belgrade: Svjatoslav,
1928), 16.
22
Karl Heise was the author of several books on Freemasonry and the world
conspiracy, including Entente-Freimaurerei und Weltkrieg. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des
Weltkrieges und zum Verständnis der wahren Freimaurerei (Basel: Ernst Finck, 1919, with
an unsigned introduction written by Rudolf Steiner) and Okkultes Logentum (Leipzig: Max
Altmann, 1921).
23
See Bostunič, Masonstvo v svoei suščnosti, 18 n. 14. On Karl Heise and his contacts
with Gregor Bostunič see also Peter Staudenmaier, “Nazi Perceptions of Esotericism: The
Occult as Fascination and Menace,” in The Threat and Allure of the Magical, ed. Ashwin
Manthripragada (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2013), 24–58.
and zealous occultist Aleksander Aseev (1903–1993), who ran and edited it
for more than fifty years, first from Belgrade (1933–1936), then from Sofia
(1937–1938). From 1952 on he settled in Asuncion (Paraguay), from where
the journal was published until 1977. All in all, Aseev published 66 issues
of his magazine. During at least fifty years, Okkul’tizm i joga was a link for
Russian occultists scattered all over the world, including Australia, China,
North and South America.
The scope of the matters discussed by its authors was extremely wide,
comprising Agni Yoga, Martinism, Rosicrucianism, parapsychology, healing
practices, etc. The articles covered a wide range of topics, from surveys of
classical esotericism to Theosophy, parapsychology and paganism (Druidry),
as well as Russian or Slavic nationalism and “integral Christianity”. One
may find on the pages of Okkul’tizm i joga numerous publications by Nikolai
Rerih and his disciples, translations from the writings of Krishnamurti,
Vivekananda, etc. The journal united authors with different views,
representing a universalistic trend in Russian esotericism.
The fact that Bostunič collaborated with such a company of
“black magicians” looks strange24. His article “The Mystery of death and
resurrection of Christ” was published in the first issue of the magazine25. He
argues that the text of the New and the Old Testaments has been corrupted
by the Jews, that Jehovah is not the supreme God, the Creator, but only one
of the Elohim, residing on the Moon. He talks about Ahriman, Satanael,
Lucifer, the Holy Grail – all this is evidently an exposition of the teachings
of Rudolf Steiner in the interpretation of Bostunič’s mentor – Karl Heise.
Anyway, Bostunitsch and his nationalistic views appeared to be too odious
for this magazine, and his article was subjected to harsh criticism in one of
the next issues.
Among the permanent contributors to the magazine were its editor
Alexander Aseev, an expert in occult pharmaceutics; Nikolaj and Elena
Rerih; Boris Arov (Saharov, 1899–1959), a famous teacher of Yoga26 who
was a disciple of Swami Sivananda Saraswati, and received in 1947 the title
of Yogiraj.
Each issue of the magazine contains the texts of Nina Rudnikova
(1890, St. Petersburg – 1940, Königsberg), a poet and occultist who lived
in emigration in Estonia. In the 1920s–1930s she was probably the most
24
His name is even printed on the front cover of the 1st issue of the magazine.
25
Gregor Bostunič, “Tajna smerti i voskresenija Hrista” [The Mystery of death and
resurrection of Christ], Okkul’tizm i joga 1 (Belgrade, 1933): 72–84.
26
He was especially known as the author of the Russian occult bestsellers The Great
Secret, The Opening of the Third Eye, and Yoga from the Prime Source.
authoritative esotericist and theorist of occultism in Estonia. It is known

that she had supernatural psychic abilities.
Among the authors of the magazine was also a number of followers of
the Agni Yoga movement, like Alexander Klizovskij (Riga)27, Mihail Nikitin
(Belgrade), Richard Rudzitis (Riga), Sava Kalimenov (Sevlievo, Bulgaria)28,
Georges Chklaver (Paris)29, etc.
Okkul’tizm i joga also published materials about spiritual life in Serbia.
So, George Sviščev published a series of essays under the title “The Light of
Metohija” – the story of his journey through this land, and his encounters
with dervishes, Sufi mystics, whose paranormal experience he compares
with the experience of the Christian ascetics30.
The journal published reviews of the spiritual life of the other Balkan
countries. So, one of the issues was devoted to the occult life in Bulgaria.
It considered the work of the Theosophical Society in Bulgaria, “Bulgarian
Society for Psychical Research”, and its occult magazine Star of Bethlehem31.
It also reviews some of Peter Dănov’s books, translated into Russian and
published in Riga.
The editorial board had planned to publish a series of books on the
occult matters, but only a few were published and they are now extremely
rare. Among them was the book of a famous Russian occultist, member of the
Council of the Russian Theosophical Society Dmitrij Stranden Hermeticism: Its
Origins and Foundations (the Hidden Philosophy of the Egyptians) [Germetizm:
ego proishoždenie i osnovnie učenija] (Belgrade, 1937). This is an overview of
the Hermetic teachings in the spirit of Tabula Smaragdina32.
As we have seen, there were two main trends in the Russian émigré
esotericism in Yugoslavia: political, right-wing, nationalistic and anti-
communist – and theoretical and unrelated to politics, aimed at the spiritual
transformation of man. In the 1920s, just after the devastating World War
I and the Civil War in Russia, nationalistic and political occultism was
27
A pupil of Rerihs and the author of the Basics of World Outlook of the New Epoch” (3
vols, Riga, 1934–1938, in Russian).
28
Sava Kalimenov (1901–1990) was a Bulgarian esoteric writer and distributor of
Rerih’s ideas in Bulgaria.
29
Georges Chklaver (Georgij Gavrilovič Škljaver, 1897–1970) was a lawyer, professor
of law, the closest employee of Nikolai and Helena Rerih, General Secretary of the Society of
Friends of Nicholas Rerih Museum.
30
See Georgij Sviščev, “Svet Metohii” [The Light of Metohija], Okkul’tizm i joga 4
(1935): 26–42; 5 (1935): 26–39.
31
The head of this society and chief editor of the magazine was Alexander Krestnikov.
32
Among the earlier publications of the circle of Russian esotericists one can mention
a brief general course of occult sciences, translated from the Serbian by Mihail Solov’ev:
Teodor Petkovič, Occult Science (Foundations of Spiritual Doctrine) [Naučnij okkul’tizm
(osnovi duhovnoj nauki)], (Novi Sad, approx. 1930).
particularly strong among the Russian emigrants, and its adepts usually
sympathized with Nazi ideology. In the 1930s, under the influence of the
ideas of Nicholas and Helena Rerih, another type of esotericism develops,
primarily targeted at the Indian mystical ideas and spiritual practices.
They urged not so much to seek enemies and to punish the guilty, as to
strive for self-improvement and the improvement of all the humanity. The
Second World War put an end to the progressive development of Russian
esotericism and completely changed the shape of the Russian diaspora in
general, but that is another story.
References
Bostunič, Gregor. Masonstvo i russkaja revolyucija. Novi Sad: M. Kovalev, 1922.
Bostunič, Gregor. Masonstvo v svoej suščnosti i projavlenijah. Belgrade: Svjatoslav, 1928.
Bostunič, Gregor. “Tajna smerti i voskresenija Hrista.” Okkul’tizm i joga 1 (1933):
72–84.
Hagemeister, Michael. “Mnimyj pseudonim. Ob avtore trehtomnika ‘Ritual’noye
ubijstvo u evreev’.” In Psevdonimy russkogo zarubežja, edited by M. Šruba
and O. Korostelev, 137–148. Moscow: NLO, 2016.
Hagemeister, Michael. “Das Leben des Gregor Schwartz-Bostunitsch.” In Russische
Emigration in Deutschland 1918-1941, edited by Karl Schlögel, 209–218.
Berlin: Akademie, 1995.
Heyer, Karl. Wie man gegen Rudolf Steiner kämpft: Materialien und Gesichtspunkte
zum sachgemäßen Umgang mit Gegnern Rudolf Steiners und der Anthroposophie,
edited by T. Meyer. Basel: Perseus, 2008.
Kačaki, Jovan. Ruske izbeglice u Kraljevini SHS/Jugoslaviji: bibliografija radova
1920–1944: pokušaj rekonstrukcije. Beograd : Knjižara Žagor [u.a.], 2003.
Kellogg, Michael. The Russian Roots of Nazism: White Russians and the Making of
National Socialism. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005.
Ravagli, Lorenzo. “Vom Ariogermanentum zur Christosophie. Versuch über Karl
Heise.” Jahrbuch für anthroposophische Kritik 11 (2003): 86–104.
Rechsteiner, Max. “Zum Gedenken an Karl Heise.” Mitteilungen der anthroposophischen
Vereinigung in der Schweiz 81 (1986): 34–36.
Schwartz-Bostunitsch, Gregor. “Völkischer Okkultismus.” Ariosophie 4 (1929): 345–350.
Staudenmaier, Peter. “Nazi Perceptions of Esotericism: The Occult as Fascination
and Menace.” In The Threat and Allure of the Magical, edited by Ashwin
Manthripragada, 24-58. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2013.
Staudenmaier, Peter. Between Occultism and Nazism: Anthroposophy and the Politics
of Race in the Fascist Era. Leiden: Brill, 2014.
Sviščev, Georgij. “Svet Metohii.” Okkul’tizm i joga 4 (1935): 26–42; 5 (1935): 26–39.
821.162.3.09 Březina O.
Mauro Ruggiero
Charles University, Prague
Otokar Březina, a Czech Poet between Symbolism

and Esotericism
The Czech poet and essayist Václav Ignác Jebavý, better known with the
pseudonym of Otokar Březina, was born on September 13th, 1868 in Počatky,
in the present-day Czech Republic, in the region of Vysočina, and died in
Jaroměřice nad Rokytnou on March 25th in 1929. Born in a family of humble
origins and strictly respectful of the ethic-religious traditions, Březina
started writing poetry in early age and would become soon the most famous
representative of Czech literary symbolism and, as it has been underlined
by the critics, his work played an irreplaceable role in the development of
modern and contemporary Czech poetry, and not only Czech.
Under the pseudonym of Vaclav Danšovsky, he published his first
poem in June 1886. Those first verses, already characterized by a hint of
pessimism and fatalism, were written when he was just a twelve-year-old
pupil who dedicated these first lyrics to his best friend.
The poet was orphaned by both of his parents when he was only 22
years old, in 1890: this event would have affected him deeply, encouraging
further the pessimism in his later works. Nevertheless, his philosophical
readings helped him resist the temptation of closing himself off entirely in
futile pessimism and to find refuge and consolation in his visions of poetic
images.
He was formed by the writings of poets and philosophers such
as Walt Whitman, Nietzsche, Novalis, Baudelaire, Mallarmé, Heine,
Verlaine, Schopenhauer, Rimbaud, Hölderlin and others, which affected
his thought a lot and thus his poetry made of Dionysian dithyrambs, free
verses, Alexandrian verses, etc. Furthermore, he read intensely the works
of ancient philosophers and mystics, especially in the monastery library at
Nová Říše, the town where he worked as a teacher. He studied his entire life
* mauro.r@seznam.cz
154 Mauro Ruggiero
and greatly revered the Fathers of the Church, great mystics of all countries,
as well as the philosophers of the East and the West. He read the classics of
the Orient and Middle East poetry as well as the ancient poems including
ones by Greek and Latin poets.
Later and privately he studied history, philosophy, aesthetics and
religious systems in great detail, not only had he focused on Christianity
but also very much on Buddhism, Hinduism, occultism and esotericism,
which he perceived in a sharply critical manner.
The poet’s verses start to appear in various literary reviews: he wrote
for the magazine Moderní revue, published between 1894 and 1925, which
hosted many writings from symbolist and decadent poets and was one of
the main points of reference for the intellectuals interested in esotericism
and occultism of the time. He also wrote for the magazine Novy život, for
the first time under the most famous pseudonym “Otokar Březina”.
Then within some years of particular poetic effort, he published the
collections of poems Tajemne dalky [Mysterious Distances] (1895), Svítání
na zapadě [Dawn in the West] (1896), Větry or polu [Polar Winds] (1897),
Stavitele chrámu [Builders of the Temple] (1899), Ruce [Hands] (1901).
All this brought attention and enthusiastic appreciation from the leading
critics of the time who thought that his work was definitely within the
best pieces ever written in the corpus of contemporary literature. From his
biography we also know that the poet was a reader of the magazine Isis, a
journal tackling philosophy and occultism topics, which was first printed
in 1905.
In these five collections, Březina explores various issues such as the
futility of life and youth, pain and death; but also enhances the significance
of vital forces of the universe and his faith in the universal love with
emphasis on the brotherhood of humankind, on which, by his words, lies
the salvation of the world.
In Mysterious Distances, in addition to the poet’s personal standpoint,
the influence of Platonic philosophy is already evident, as well as one of
Neoplatonism and mystical Christianity In Dawn in the West, the poet
speaks of a real prophetic mission of human solidarity in terms of “fraternal
souls,” and at the same time he explores pain as the instrument of cognition
and death as the key for understanding the mystery of life. In Builders of
the Temple the pain is considered the cosmic principle of human existence,

Otokar Březina, Tajemne dalky, (Prague: Moderní revue, 1895).

Otokar Březina, Svítání na zapadě, (Prague: Moderní revue, 1896).

Otokar Březina, Větry od pólů, (Prague: Moderní revue, 1897).

Otokar Březina, Stavitele chrámu, (Prague: Moderní revue, 1899).

Otokar Březina, Stavitele chrámu, (Prague: nákl. vl., 1901).
Otokar Březina, a Czech Poet between Symbolism and Esotericism 155
where the voices of the great representatives of human thought merge with
those of the anonymous brethren – instruments of Destiny in the evolution
of humanity into divinity. In this collection, and in the last one, Hands, he
expresses the almost messianic idea of a genesis of new humanity governed
by love: “In a vision of a magical chain formed by all hands, building up the
external world”. Březina’s poetical expression, is very rich in metaphors
and parables, but also in religious, esoteric and philosophical elements and
even scientific terms.
Březina’s poetic work often stands at the very borderline between
art and a philosophical meditation. Therefore, Březina can be considered
as a “metaphysical poet” and, as pointed out by Ettore Lo Gatto, “the
central idea of his poetry is an eternal evolution, in which not only the
human individuality would gain sense, but also all living things and all the
phenomena of world and life”.
As Petr Holman quotes in his Nature in Otokar Březina’s work:
In perfect agreement with the symbolistic theory, Březina perceived religious
facts only as symbols and is using them mainly because of their esoteric
character and aesthetic value. In the same way his mysticism was exclusively
aesthetic. Březina’s aim was not to merge with God but to create dreams
and visions; instead of a mystic ecstasy aiming at a symbiosis with God, he
wants to unveil the secret of one’s being and death in order to transform
the ecstatic state into a poetic form. Even though the constants of Březina’s
spiritual world are influenced by Christianity in many respects, his spiritual
world does not abide by the rules of Christian spirituality, rather, it is much
more permeated by the subjective spirituality of philosophical idealism in
its Plato-Kantian form.
After having finished these five collections of verse, Březina would not
write verse anymore, but will only publish essays on the subject of poetry
onwards, structured in such a way that these writings are considered as a
context to his entire poetic artwork, in which religious, orphic, esoteric,
transcendental, mystic, theosophical and symbolist topic are present. It is
actually in these essays that he expresses more clearly his mysticism and
his vicinity to the esoteric current of thought. These essay-collections are:

Věra Menclová, Václav Vaněk, Slovník českých spisovatelů [The Dictionary of Czech
writers](Prague: Brána, 2005), 81.

Ettore Lo Gatto, Un poeta ceco moderno (Roma: ARE, 1930), 318-442.
Petr Holman, Nature in Otokar Březina’s Work (Prague: Karolinum, 2014), 13.
156 Mauro Ruggiero
Music of the Springs, initiated in 1897 and published in 1903, and Hidden
History, published after his death in 1970.10
Březina was elected member of the Czech Academy of Sciences and
Arts on May 2nd, 1923 and received many other renowned awards. He was
nominated nine times for the Nobel Prize, but did not care much about it
and continued to pursue a life of solitude and meditation, until his death.
In order to better understand the complex relationship that Březina
had with esotericism it is important to analyze the extensive correspondence
that he had with the Theosophist and intellectual scholar of the occult,
Anna Pammrova.11 He met her for the first time in the autumn of 1887 at
Jinošov and, even though they personally met only on three occasions in
their whole lifetime, they wrote to each other extensively from 1889 until
1929, the year of the poet’s death, with only three years of interruption
from 1893–1896.
The first article on Březina’s close relationship with esotericism,
appeared in the Czech journal Logos in 198712 where the author, D. Ž Bor,
had utilized a lot of information from the correspondence between the poet
and Pammrova.
In 1897, Březina wrote to Anna Pammrova about the Schuré’s book
The Great Initiates:13 “This summer, during the holidays I bought this book
and every day I wandered with it through our woods in the sad silence of
the solar flares ...”.14
While not speaking directly of the book in the letter, this is still
important proof that demonstrates the interest of the poet for the esoteric
world; an interest which, though manifested in an attitude often very
critical of esotericism, could be defined as “Of low-level” as such. Březina
pays attention not only to the works of Flammarion and Schuré, but also
to the spiritualistic Czech literature (at the end of the 19th century the first
translations of the works of Alan Kardec appeared on the Czech literary
scene). Furthermore, much of the “Theory of the Spirits” corresponded to
his own vision of the universe.

Otokar Březina, Hudba pramenů [Music of the springs] (Prague-Královské Vinohrady :
Hugo Kosterka, 1903).
10
Otokar Březina, Skryté dějiny [Hidden history] (Prague : Melantrich, 1970).
11
Emanuel Chalupný, edit., Dopisy Otokara Březiny Anně Pammrové z let 1889 až 1905
[Letters from Otokar Bøezina to Anna Pammrová] (Prague: O. Girgala, 1930).
12
Bor D. Ž. “Otokar Březina – bratrské pouto a esoterismus”, [Otokar Bøezina –
Brotherly bond and esotericism] Logos, 1/2 (1998): 41–46.
13
Edouard Schuré, Les Grands Initiés. Esquisse de l’histoire secréte des religions (Paris,
1889).
14
Chalupný, Dopisy Otokara Březiny Anně Pammrové, 174.
In another letter to Pammrová dating back to 1896, for example, he

wrote:
[…] But my mysticism comes from the results of modern exact science […].
I don’t hide that my work, not dependent on dogmatism, touches only the
esoteric fundamentals of religion and nothing more […]. The notion of The
Eternal and The Highest, as it is revealed in my work, is the symbol of a
perpetual Mystery […]. 15
In some following letters, other similar references can be found, especially

concerning his preference for mysticism above occultism:
You won’t find a dictionary of occultism with me. I want mysticism, which
tolerates the daylight and is not mute to the soul. I am not against occultism;
but I maintain my skepticism of the believer in his world.16
In another letter, also addressed to Pammrova, several years after the

aforementioned, Březina writes “I always notice in books how the history
of esotericism, such as Schure’s, is made ideal.”17 Also in another letter to
Pammrova, he says that “As a matter of fact in the field of the occult too
much of scientific amateurism is found and no one can do anything about
it.” His often critical approach to esotericism and the esotericists comes
certainly from a very deep knowledge of the subject and certainly not from
rejecting the esoteric theories. He often sent her books and magazines
about esotericism and occultism such as The Initiation and Mercure and
recommended various other works on the topic for her to read.
In 1903 Březina comments on the well-known book written by
Flammarion L’inconnu expressing some skepticism: “Too bad” – says the poet
– “His work is silent precisely at the points where the internal experience
is richer and more beautiful”18 and adds: “Maybe by today’s Theosophy and
spiritualism a new religion for all the people of the future will be born.”
And yet: “For now spiritualism is in its infant stage.” But spiritualism also
appears in his verses, for example when he says: “A mysterious power closes
around our table, excluding us from the laws of the Earth.”19
The Czech writer and priest Jakub Deml testify that Březina read the
occultistic literature.20 In his 1903 diary he wrote a note: “I have mentioned
to Březina the fact that Karel Dostal Lutinov asked me to write something
15
Chalupny, Dopisy Otokara Březiny Anné Pammrové, (Tábor: 1930), 147.
16
Ibid, p. 178.
17
18
19
Bor D. Ž., “Otokar Březina”, 42.
20
Deml Jakub, Listy Otokara Březiny Jakubu Demlovi [Pages written by Otokar Březina
about Jakub Deml] (V Tasově, Jakub Deml, 1932).
158 Mauro Ruggiero
on spiritualism and that in six weeks I should deliver the paper. Březina
has mentioned all the possible spiritualistic literature to be consulted, a
number of German, French and other authors and was asking me if I knew
them.”21 In fact, apart from the spiritualistic literature Březina read Papus,
Peladan, Besant, Blavatsky and the other protagonists of the esoteric and
occultistic scene of the time. The Theosophical movement is closer to
Březina than spiritualism or magic. He admires two women: lady Besant
and lady Blavatsky and regarded the work of the latter one as “impressive”
– if only as a set of cognition of so many different fields of knowledge as
enough of a reason to attract so many followers. He also says that the point
of view, introduced by lady Blavatsky, is marvelous and undeniable.
Březina describes, with great pleasure, how some professors had sent
a young scientist to Tibet to gather empirical evidence against Blavatsky,
and how they had failed.
He wrote about Steiner as a very strict and precise initiate and also as
“the most scientific one,” saying: “Regarding the method, he made himself
impossible to be refuted, but at the same time, it is difficult to believe him”
– because, in this era, the brilliant thoughts of great men like Steiner were
difficult to understand.
Other letters to Pammrova clearly depict his skepticism towards
disciplines such as psychometrics, which he considers unreliable, and the
occult medicine in general.22
In the poem Love the poet writes: “Brethren, shake the bushes of
your roses, the distance will bring a lot of bitter odors” – because of these
and other verses, some believe that Březina refers to the Brotherhood of
the Rose Cross. Furthermore, the poet in various poems and several other
contexts uses the word “Brethren” and this had brought people to a belief
that he could have been part of some esoteric organization. According to
some esoteric scholars, the poet was certainly a Rosicrucian or member of
another esoteric organization, but there is no actual proof of it. 23
Elsewhere it has been said that Březina was a Freemason,24 but Deml
says that Březina wanted nothing to do with the Masons, even though he
was vaguely associated to some of them in certain periods of his life.
21
Bor D. Ž., “Otokar Březina”, 43–45.
22
23
See e.g: Emanuel z Lešehradu, Hledači skrytých pramenů: Březina-Mombert-Rilke-
Faustovský problém [In search of the hidden sources. Březina-Mombert-Rilke-Faust problem]
(Prague: Nakladatelství Al. Srdce 1934), 25–27.
24
See: Bor D. Ž. “Otokar Březina”, 45.
The poet Jan Vrba arrived to the conclusion that Březina was a member
of one secret brotherhood, not Masonic, and stated he has the evidence to it
but that he cannot disclose it to public. 25
The Czech poet and playwright Emanuel Lešehrad, Freemason and
Rosicrucian, founded in 1928 the Silver Circle, an esoteric order very much
supportive of Czech nationalism. In a letter from Březina of August 4th 1921
the poet wrote: “To my dear friends and brethren of the Silver Circle that
have honored me with the nomination for the honorary member of this
association – I give my thanks for their confidence in my word – and I wish
that all their works will be as profitable.” Also he instructs them to “help
and spread in our nation the faith in the noble mission of the human spirit
to penetrate the mysteries of this land and acquire power over its secret
forces.” Here he hopes that “faith and love can unite the nations to create
a unique world that may unite the disciples of the great masters in a single
brotherhood which overcomes all distances of the earth and of time.”26
In a letter of September 1896 addressed to Pammrova instead, Březina
explains his vision of the Ego that does not differ much from the ideas of
ancient India,27 saying:
Behind the intellect is our true ’Ego’ the transcendental one that it is
projected in the material and which uses the intellect as a means to get
oriented in the poor conditions of this life. This transcendental Ego that
exists outside of space and time speaks directly to us through the limited
language of our senses and only in brief moments of enlightenment. Owing
to the Ego we are linked to numerous souls of the past and of the future, as
well as to the Creator Himself.
In another letter, Březina encourages his friend to balance her passion for
the occult with scientific knowledge, explaining:
I am not aware of a more useful study for an artist-mystic than the one of the
exact sciences. It strengthens the artistic skepticism, makes lines of thought
cleaner and teaches one to avoid unnecessary adventures on the path of
25
Bor D. Ž. “Otokar Březina”, 45.
26
See also: Otokar Březina, Několik dopisů Otokara Březiny, jež vybrány z jeho
korespondence s Emanuelem z Lešehradu s připojením dopisu, psaného r. 1892 spisovateli M. A.
Šimáčkovi [Several letters written by Otokar Březina, selected from his correspondence with
Emanuel z Lešehrad, with a letter written in 1892 to the writer M.A. Šimáèek] (Prague: Alois
Srdce, 1930).
27
For exemple the ideas of the Advaita Vedanta school. See also: Zdeněk Záhoř,
Otakar Březina a upanišady. Studie o indickém vlivu na jeho poesii [Otokar Březina and the
Upanishad. Studies about influences of Hinduism on his poetry] (Prague: Lumir 1915), 362–376,
396–405, 470–478.
160 Mauro Ruggiero
’the logic of the abandoned,’ teaching also the precision of expression and
economy in the means of suggestion and hatred for the superficiality. 28
Then he adds that he could not fully share his tendency to occultism
saying:
I know very well that the world accessible to the senses has in it also a world
inaccessible to these, but all that is too concrete and dogma in the mystery
confuses me. The life of souls is a movement, is a music (...) I want a mystique
that can withstand the light of day and is not silent even toward souls who
are not initiated.29
Regarding the poet’s relationship with religion, Březina can be defined as

a very heretical kind of Christian. His esoteric spirit did not go unnoticed
already in the years when the poet was still alive. In Italy, for example,
he had been quoted in the famous magazines of esotericism called Ur
and Krur, founded by Julius Evola and Arturo Reghini and published in
the years between 1927 and 1929. The magazine Ur was an expression
medium of the Group of Ur,30 an esoteric group active in Italy in the late
1920s and a landmark of most of the esotericists of the time. In an issue of
the aforementioned journal,31 Brezina’s essay “Prospettive” was published
translated into Italian, taken from the collection of essays Musica delle fonti
(Music of the Springs).
Nevertheless, it is particularly interesting to reflect on how the
critics – contemporaries of real socialism in Czechoslovakia – had been
completely silent or scarcely mentioning of not solely the interests of the
poet for the esoteric and the occult, but also of the mystical and religious
tension constantly present in his work. The critics interpreted the work of
this symbolist poet in a purely social aspect. Only recently does the work of
this great poet begin to be interpreted from other angles which allow better
understanding of how and what this complex and interesting personality
wanted to express in his writings.
Also in the 1950s the work of Otokar Březina was interpreted
in such a way which did not take into account his esoteric beliefs
– those that have undoubtedly influenced his works. An example can
be found in the prologue for the 1958 edition of Básně32 (published
28
29
30
About the “Group of Ur” see: Renato Del Ponte, Evola e il magico Gruppo di Ur. Studi
e documenti per servire alla storia di Ur-Krur (Borzano, Albinea: Sear Edizioni, 1994).
31
Now in: Gruppo di Ur, Introduzione alla Magia, Vol. II (Roma: Ed. Mediterranee,
1971), 342–346.
32 Otokar Březina, Básně [Poems] (Prague, Československý spisovatel, 1958).
by Československý spisovatel), written by Jaroslav Janů, with the

proclaimed purpose of exposing Březina from his seclusion and
portraying him thoroughly using historically reliable explanations.
Here Jaroslav Janů reconstructs Březina’s fifteen-year-long career but,
although he recognizes him as a talented poet, his focus is never on
Březina’s penchant for esotericism (that can be found, for example, in his
correspondence with Anna Pammrová). Instead, Janů describes Březina’s
evolution as a shift from a realistic-naturalistic approach to a more
individualist vision, identifying moments of crisis which caused him severe
melancholy, using daydreaming and fantasy as the only means of escaping
it. Concretely, this passage is described as a turn from comic sketches of life
in the countryside through a cold resignation and symbolism. Nevertheless,
the literary critic is concerned about the need to put Březina far from pure
Symbolism and state that he had ‘followed a path of his own’ which was a
combination of an aesthetical aristocratism, social utopia and a strongly
developed sensitivity for beauty, which was not mere formalism without
content. The main concept that can be extrapolated from this text is the
duality of Březina, always shifting between two contrasting principles: for
example, the hermetic solitude he chose and the craving for social contacts
he constantly felt.
Moreover, this dualism is also noticed in the coexistence of idealism
and strong social principles in Březina’s work. On one side, he is in fact
portrayed as an idealist poet and a romantic soul, with a self-established
cult of beauty and a utopic view of reality – Janů emphasizes the “sense of
beauty” as that which made him long for a better world and desire a universal
harmony, one which could reconcile with the world even the most solitary
poet, isolated from reality. The critic attributes to him characteristics that are
defined as typical of the romantic, introvert type living in his spiritual world.
On the other hand, according to Janů, the above-mentioned utopia relies
on principles that are ethic-religious and social: in these pages he stresses
Březina’s tendency towards altruism, together with his penchant for the
weak and the suffering.
In addition to this, it is clearly stated that Březina’s pathos is
reminiscent of the Bible. Religion, but especially philosophy (Schopenhauer,
Nietzsche) are mentioned as sources of his inspiration. When speaking of
his education, Janů mentions aesthetics, philosophy and natural sciences,
but not a word regarding his meticulous studies of Esotericism.
162 Mauro Ruggiero
References
Bor, D. Ž. “Otokar Březina – bratrské pouto a esoterismus.” Logos, 1/2 (1998): 41–46.
Březina, Otokar. Několik dopisů Otokara Březiny, jež vybrány z jeho korespondence s
Emanuelem z Lešehradu s připojením dopisu, psaného r. 1892 spisovateli M.A.
Šimáčkovi. Prague: Alois Srdce, 1930.
___ Hudba pramenů, Prague-Královské Vinohrady: Hugo Kosterka, 1903.
___. Skryté dějiny. Prague: Melantrich, 1970.
___. Tajemne dalky. Prague: Moderní revue, 1895.
___. Svítání na zapadě. Prague: Moderní revue, 1896.
___. Větry od pólů. Prague: Moderní revue, 1897.
___. Stavitele chrámu. Prague: Moderní revue, 1899.
___. Stavitele chrámu. Prague: nákl. vl., 1901.
Chalupný, Emanuel ed. Dopisy Otokara B eziny Anně Pammrové z let 1889 až 1905.
Prague: O. Girgala, 1930.
Del Ponte, Renato. Evola e il magico Gruppo di Ur. Studi e documenti per servire alla
storia di Ur-Krur. Borzano, Albinea: Sear Edizioni, 1994.
Deml, Jakub. Listy Otokara Březiny Jakubu Demlovi. Tasov: Jakub Deml, 1932.
Dvorak, Miloš. Tradice dila O. Březiny. Třebíč: ArcaJiMfa, 1993.
Fraenkl, Pavel. Otokar Březina. Mládí a přerod. Geneze díla. Prague: Melantrich, 1937.
Holman, Petr. Nature in Otokar Březina’s work. Prague: Karolinum, 2014.
Kralik, Oldřich. Otokar Březina 1892–1905. Logika jeho díla. Prague: Melantrich,
1948.
Lešetický z Lešehrad, Emanuel. Hledači skrytých pramenů: Březina-Mombert-Rilke-
Faustovský problém. Prague: Nakladatelství Al. srdce 1934.
Lo Gatto, Ettore. Un poeta ceco moderno, Roma: ARE, 1930.
Menclová, Věra; Vaněk, Václav. Slovník českých spisovatelů. Prague: Brána, 2005.
Selver, Paul. O. Březina. A study in Czech literature. London, 1921.
Ur (Gruppo di). Introduzione alla Magia. Vol. II Roma: Ed. Mediterranee, 1971.
Záhoř, Zdeněk. Otakar Březina a upanišady. Studie o indickém vlivu na jeho poesii.
Prague: Lumir 1915.
Vrba, Jan. Otokar Březina a jiní přátelé v mé paměti. 1. vyd. Prague: J. Otto, 1932.
821.162.09-31 Miłosz C.
Jan Miklas-Frankowski
University of Gdansk
Visions from San Francisco Bay as an Example

of Esotoric Inspirations in Czesław Miłosz’s
Work
Visions from San Francisco Bay – a collection of essays, first published in

Polish in 1969, written by Czesław Miłosz during the student revolt that
commenced at the University of California in Berkeley is one of his most
important essayistic books. In spite of this, Leonard Nathan and Arthur
Quinn claim that it also has been the most neglected of his translated works.
However, it is in this book that Miłosz clearly presents “in a series of short
essays, more plainly than anywhere else, his view of the human condition.”
According to Nathan and Quinn, this perspective of human condition is
the main reason of neglect and superficiality of American reviews. Miłosz’s
vision of our fate is concealed under the façade of America’s reportage
pictures observed by a foreigner exiled from Europe. This “vision of our
predicament is enough to make any complacent reader wince.”
For Miłosz the subject of the book is not geographically linked to
America. California is simply an area where the changes stand out and
are more visible. They are easier to observe and analyze. California is a
kind of laboratory where processes that will determine the future shape of
civilization can be noticed more clearly than in Poland or France.
The whole America “condenses and exemplifies what has overtaken
or is now overtaking people all over the world (...). Since self-accusation and
the feeling of being lost are more out in the open in America than anywhere
* jan.miklas@ug.edu.pl

Czesław Miłosz, Przypis po latach [Note after years], in Widzenia nad zatoką San
Francisco [Visions from San Francisco Bay], (Cracow: Wydawnictwo Literackie, 2000), 6.

Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, San Francisco Bay, in Leonard Nathan and
Arthur Quinn, The Poet’s work. An Introduction to Czesław Miłosz, (Cambridge, Massachusetts
and London: Harvard University Press, 1991), 1.

Nathan and Quinn, Poet’s Work, 1.

Nathan and Quinn, Poet’s Work, 1.

Andrzej Franaszek, Miłosz. Biografia [Miłosz. Biography], (Cracow: Znak, 2011), 608.
164 Jan Miklas-Frankowski
else, America is the testing ground for all mankind.” But it is in California
that a clash of “imagination and consciousness” with pictures of America
and challenges of the time is so poignant that it needs “transferring into
a language”. Visions is also “an inner journey, inner portrait of someone
who happens to be living in the global age” and unusual acceleration
of civilization. In his autobiographical comments Miłosz mentions his
unique Californian experience many times. He was convinced that changes
happening there in the second half of the 20th century have a global impact,
“that it is at least an ending of ancient world” and at the same time, the
beginning of a new, still not defined, “planetary civilization.”
Underestimation of Visions noticed by American critics also applies
to the Polish reception. It undeservedly remains in the shadow of The Land
of Ulro, treated as Miłosz’s essayistic opus magnum. For me both books form
an ideological entirety – a kind of diptych on the progressive crisis of Euro-
Atlantic civilization and reasons of spiritual alienation of a contemporary
man. The Land of Ulro is a meandrical, erudite and esoteric record of
personal theology10 and an attempt to reconstruct ideological and spiritual
affinity. Visions from San Francisco Bay, however, is above all a multifaceted
diagnosis and reflection about the “Californian variety of twentieth-century
civilization11” that leads to the creation of a concept of “Neo-Manichaeism.”
This article aims at a reconstruction of this concept.
Miłosz encountered Manichaeism and other heterodox concepts for
the first time in a textbook on the history of the Church while studying at
Vilnius high school. Young Miłosz was going through a worldview crisis at
the time. During his early childhood Miłosz had been fascinated by the world
of nature. Later he started to discover its cruelty, the ruthless mechanism of
the evolutionary theory and the division of the world into natura devorans
and natura devorata. Young Miłosz couldn’t reconcile Nature’s beauty and
mathematical cruelty of the world He didn’t trust in the world’s mechanism
idea. He couldn’t believe „in natural reason, subject as it is to necessity and

Czesław Miłosz, Visions from San Francisco Bay, trans. by Richard Lourie, (Manchester:
Carcanet New Press, 1982), 206.

Miłosz, Przypis po latach, 6.

Miłosz, Przypis po latach , 6.

Czesław Miłosz, Ziemia Ulro [Land of Ulro] (Cracow: Znak , 2000), 29.
10
See: Jacek Bolewski, Teologia Ziemi Ulro [Land’s of Ulro Theology] in Miłosz i
Miłosz [Miłosz and Miłosz], ed. Aleksander Fiut, Artur Grabowski, Łukasz Tischner (Cracow:
Księgarnia Akademicka, The Gold Center/Milosz Institute 2013), 169–189.
11
Miłosz, Przypis po latach..., 6.
Visions from San Francisco Bay an Example of Esotoric Inspirations... 165
to falling into any traps that we, physiologically, as members of the animal
species, may set for ourselves”12.
If nature’s law is murder, if the strong survive and weak perish, and
it has been this way for millions and millions of years, where is the room
for God’s goodness? Why must man, suspended on a tiny star in the void,
no more significant than the microbes under a microscope, isolate his own
suffering as though it were different from that of a bird with a wounded
wing or a rabbit devoured by a fox? Why must human suffering alone be
worthy of notice and redemption? If man is an exception, then why the
cruelty of death, disease and torture inflicted by men upon each other,
the proof that nature’s law extends to this species, too? How does a crowd
in the street differ from a collection of amoebas except that elementary
human reflexes are more complicated?13
Ancient Gnostics had similar questions and dilemmas, and they were
young Miłosz’s favorites. Several chapters of school “manual of Church
history”14 included “sections in small print that gave rather accurate
descriptions of various heresies (…) the Gnostics, the Manichaeans and the
Albigensians”:15 Miłosz’s heroes:
[They] at least did not take refuge behind some vague will of God in order to
justify cruelty. They called necessity, which rules everything that exists in
time, the work of an evil Demiurge opposed to God. God, separated in this
way from the temporal order, subsisted in a sphere proper to himself, free
from responsibility, as the object of our desires. Those desires grew purer
the more they turned against the flesh; i.e., creation16.
The best proof of how important Gnostic inspirations were in the early
works of Miłosz is a dissertation by Zbigniew Kaźmierczyk The Demiurge’s
Creation.17 It is an erudite study of “Gnostic experience of existence” in the
pre-war works of the author of Three Winters. Direct references to the Gnostic
doctrines had ceased to appear during the war and post-war period, only
to return in The Issa Valley. Esoteric inspirations however don’t disappear
completely, as well as anthropocentric passion and bias against Nature.
These are the common attributes of ideas inspiring Miłosz throughout his
entire life.
12
Czesław Miłosz, Native Realm. A Search for Self-Definition, trans. by Catherine S.
Leach (Harmondsworth: Penguin books 1988), 77.
13
Miłosz, Native Realm, 77.
14
15
Miłosz, Native Realm, 77–78.
16
17
Zbigniew Kaźmierczyk, Dzieło demiurga [The Demiurge’s creation], (Gdańsk: Słowo.
Obraz. Terytoria, 2011).
Blake and Swedenborg are important to me, but they do not mean
any radical turn against the ideas I had esteemed before. Only now do
I discern the thread joining the various phases of, and influences on,
my mind’s progress. Catholicism Stanisław Brzozowski, OWM (Oskar
Władysław Miłosz), Hegelianism (in the person of my friend Tadeusz
Juliusz Kroński), Swedenborg, Simone Weil, Shestov, Blake. That thread
is my anthropocentrism and my bias against Nature. The succession of
influences forms a pattern that begins with my interest in Manichaeanism,
first stirred by my reading in Church history, and ends with my course on
Manichaeanism at Berkeley18.
Comparative review was not the main aim of the Manichaeism course
taught by Miłosz at the Department of Slavic Languages and Literature. The
main aim was to show “the essence of contemporary human condition.”19
Miłosz was definitely less interested in details of Gnostic cosmogony than
in the accuracy of their diagnosis and their attempts at the explanation of
the presence of evil and cruelty in the world. I am not sure what sources
Miłosz used preparing these lectures, however, it is highly likely that The
Gnostic Religion by Hans Jonas published in 1958 and cited by Miłosz in The
Land of Ulro was the most useful book in their preparation. We can assume
that it was also an important inspiration for Visions...
Although references to dualistic doctrines may be found in many
chapters of Visions from San Francisco Bay, in this paper I would like to focus
on two essays devoted mainly to considerations on Neo-Manichaeanism –
Chapter 6, “On the Effects of the Natural Sciences” and Chapter 31, “Essay,
in Which the Author Confesses, That He Is on the Side of Man, for Lack of
Anything Better”.
The outline of the concept of “Neo-Manichaeism” as a term that best
describes the condition of the state of contemporary man appears mostly
in Chapter 31 “Essay in Which the Author Confesses, That He Is on the
Side of Man, for Lack of Anything Better” though shows how Miłosz’s
thinking about the world was deeply set in ancient speculations at the time.
Its author comes back to a dilemma bothering him from childhood and
considers the dualistic nature of man. On the one hand, it is subordinate to
natural order,
which means submission to blind necessity, to the force of gravity, all that
which is opposed to meaning and thus offends my mind. As a creature of
flesh I am a part of this order, but it is without my consent,20
18
Miłosz, The Land of Ulro, trans. Louis Iribarne (New York: Farrar, Strauss & Giroux,
1984), 159–160.
19
Franaszek, Miłosz. Biografia, 593.
20
Miłosz, Visions, 174.
on the other hand, as a spiritual creature, I don’t belong to it. However,

the activity of The Prince of This World, as according to Miłosz Simon Weil
rightly calls the devil, and “the causes and effects that govern matter with
mathematical necessity do not entitle us to hurl abuse at God or at any
X designating the very basis of existence.”21 Further Miłosz proposes the
adoption of two perspectives and two values: first, non-anthropocentric,
plant-animal, and second, considering “humanity aside.”22 If we parenthesize
our humanity, considering all that is alive, “we have to admit, that the world
is neither good nor evil, that such categories do not apply to the life of a
butterfly or a crab.”23 If we want to evaluate the world only from the human
perspective:
Then indifferent determinism assumes diabolical features and we have the
right to suppose that God has leased the universe to the devil, who, in the
book of Job, is one of Jehovah’s sons. “The war we wage with the world,
the flesh, and the evil” is not a contrivance of Spanish mystics but occurs
within us and as well between the indifferent necessity surrounding us. I
am two-fold: to the degree that I am the kin of butterfly and the crab, I
am the servant of the spirit of the Earth, who is not good. If there were no
man, there would be no devil, for the natural order would not have been
contradicted by anyone. Since it is contradicted, its ruler, Satan, the Spirit
of the Earth, the demiurge of nature, battles with what is divine in man for
the human soul. And only the covenant with God allows man (…) to attempt
to disengage himself from the net of immutable laws binding creation.24
The whole paragraph above seems to be a contemporary paraphrase of the

work of Mani and his disciples or at least its continuation or broadening of
dualistic speculations. The world enslaved to the devil, two human natures
(evil and good, infernal and divine), its duality, the human as the central
figure of creation, contradicting the infernal natural order and finally his
soul as the main target of the battle between God and Satan (or the Sprit
of the Earth). Besides, in the next paragraph Miłosz not only confirms the
accuracy of the Gnostics recognition, but he agrees that the paramount
mission of the human being is to stand up to Nature’s “meaninglessness.”
The old Iranian myths about the struggle of Darkness with light, Ahriman
against Ormazd, suit me perfectly. What, then, is the light? The divine in man
turning against the natural in him – in other words, intelligence dissenting
from “meaninglessness,” searching for meaning, grafted onto darkness like
21
22
23
24
a noble shoot onto a wild tree, growing greater and stronger only in and
through man25.
A certain novelty in comparison with ancient antecedents is an idea that

consciousness and meaningfulness can develop only in human and through
human without any external help and intervention. This extended and
deepened anthropocentrism isn’t probably very expressive and poignant in
the above quote yet, but I’d like to flag this very important thread of Miłosz’s
diagnosis from now. So how does Miłosz understand the meaningfulness
that every man should strive to pursue?
Consciousness, intelligence, light, grace, the love of the good – such subtle
distinctions are not my concern; for me it is enough that we have some
faculty that makes us alien, intruders, in the world, solitary creatures unable
to communicate with crabs, bird, animals26.
He enigmatically explains that enlightened reason not only is inseparable

with grace but also with commitment to values.27 Miłosz’s understanding
of terms like consciousness, intelligence and illumination differs from his
ancient antecedents. According to the author of Land of Ulro, consolation
and shelter from meaninglessness comes from “mental constructs” built by
previous generations, from a gigantic labyrinth of culture and art, as well as
a historical consciousness that differentiates us from animals.
We are unable to live nakedly. We must constantly wrap ourselves in a
cocoon of mental constructs, our changing styles in philosophy, poetry, art.
We invest meaning in that which is opposed to meaning; that ceaseless labor,
that spinning is the most purely human of our activities. For the threads
spun by our ancestors, do not perish, they are preserved; we alone among
living creatures have a history, we move in a gigantic labyrinth where the
present and the past are interwoven. That labyrinth protects and consoles
us, for it is anti-nature. Death is humiliation because it tears us away from
words, the sounds of music, configurations of life and natural freedom, and
puts us under the sway of necessity, relegates us to the kingdom of inertia,
senseless birth, and senseless decay28.
Death would not be such a humiliating, absurd and brutal clash with the
inhuman “sway of necessity” if the unique status of a man and his “God-
given origin” had not been denied by the theory of evolution so widely
accepted in the 20th century.
25
26
Miłosz, Visions, 175–176.
27
28
If temples are not erected to honor the theory of evolution, it is undoubtedly

for the same reason that temples were not erected in the Middle Ages to
honor the immortality of soul; obvious truths, like 2 times 2 is 4 (…). Try to
overthrow the authority of science in yourself and say: “It is not true that
life arose in the sea and that one-celled organisms are the ancient ancestors
of fish, amphibians, birds, and mammals; no development from less to more
complicated forms occurred, no transformation and gradual formation of
species; ichthyosaurus and pterodactyls never existed – rather. God planted
the fossilized bones which allow us to reconstruct the appearance of extinct
animals, one of His tricks to lead us into error and further punish us for
plucking the apple from the Tree of Knowledge; the anthropoid, which
troubles theologians because it permits no line to be drawn signifying
the animals’ end and men’s beginning, did not exist either; the earth was
created all at once with its relic and ruins, resembling those parks built by
eighteenth-century aristocrats who placed fragments of ’Greek’ columns at
the turn of a tree-lined path”.29
In the essay ‘On the Effects of the Natural Sciences’, where the above
quotation comes from, Miłosz expresses his Neo-Manichaean diagnosis
fully. Its main cause was the evolution theory, which diametrically changed
man’s position in the world and desolated the religious imagination. Man
was degraded to being just one link in the chain of evolution, an animal
from the Mammal class, and the civilization, culture and moral norms
transpired to be well-developed and complex product of the species lacking
an external transcendent sanction.
Movement: of galaxies, atoms, the parts of the atom, explosions,
dislocations, transformation. We reacted with anger and offended dignity
when it was learned that man, too, belongs to the chain of universal
transformation – that “he is descended from the monkeys”. A justified
reaction to a painful knowledge. Previously elevated above things, man
now had to look at himself as a thing; his rank as a mammal began to gain
ascendancy over his God-given autonomy, and morality and law had proven
to be something he produces as a genus, just as beets produce sugar, or so
it was said.30
According to Miłosz, being equated to animals brought closer our
experience of pain and suffering. Nature was humanized and species-
wide empathy platform was created, arising from “a sense of dread and
repugnance for the impersonal cruelty built into the structure of the
universe.”31
29
30
31
Pitying the animal himself, his pain, fear and dependence on physiological
needs, man, degraded, has acquired sympathy for every living, suffering
thing: he calls existence a concentration camp and finds it an argument
against God.32
Species-wide empathy made people come to the conclusions similar to

those reached by ancient Gnostics. But situation dramatically changed,
the context of diagnosis is different – today’s recognition doesn’t have a
potential to liberate but reinforces “Manichaean ferocity” instead.
Obviously, the struggle with Evil in the Universe is an old one; the
Manichaeans were among the first who refused to believe such a miserable
world could issue from the hands of a God, who was good – because God had
to be purified, they held the world to be the work of a malevolent demiurge.
Later there was an increase of theodicies, clever systems whose aims were
to prove the God, in spite of everything, does not bear the responsibility of
for evil. Yet, never was the position of those who defend the idea of hidden
harmony more difficult, never was Manichean ferocity more aggressive than
when the nineteenth century observed that the suffering of living matter
is the mainspring of its Movement and the individual creature is scarified
in the name of splendid and enormous transformation without purpose or
goal33.
Today mass media are the factor exacerbating “Manichean ferocity”: “our
imagination has a greater capacity than that of previous generation”. It
“must accommodate pain, debasement, violence, poverty, the absurdity of
believes, and morals the whole world over.”34 If we are equally “capable
of compassion and (…) powerless, then we live in a state of desperate
exasperation35”. Ever present and multi-faceted cruelty of the world observed
in media “beat on us like unreason incarnate, like the creation of some
mad gigantic brain.”36 The painful touch of contemporary Manichaeaism is
revealed in one more crucial difference:
Paralyzed by the animal in themselves (once caged in by the Soul, Reason),
they have sought in the Spirit passionately, but since God has been
withdrawing, losing his attributes, Spirit can now be only human, the sole
maker of distinctions between good or evil37.
32
33
34
35
36
37
Contemporary man is on the one hand paralyzed by the animal

inside, a part of the world not knowing good or evil. On the other hand, he
is alone, abandoned by God and has to create distinctions himself, aided
by a solely human Spirit, opposing Nature’s meaninglessness created by
subordination to the law of nature. According to Miłosz, this is the main
attribute that differs between the contemporary diagnosis of the human
condition and diagnosis made in the ancient and medieval times. This is the
difference that allows him to use the prefix neo- when talking about this
new form of Manichaeism:
When our descendants seek to define our times, they will probably make use
of the term “neo-Manichaeaism” to describe our characteristic resentment
of evil Matter to which we desperately oppose value, but value no longer
flowing from a divine source and now exclusively human (…). Then, too,
will all praise of the body and freedom in morality be revealed as shams
and masks. For the fear of hell-hire has not vanished; hell (as with Mani’s
old disciples) has taken root in our very subjugation to and helplessness
against the natural forces residing in us, which today are the domain of the
biologist, doctor, psychiatrist.38
In the interview with Renata Gorczyńska Miłosz explains that he was also
referring to something he noticed in 20th century art:
A trend to torment the body, flesh, materiality, representations of
disgusting aspects of the physiological nonsense of human existence, that
in a very strange way goes hand in hand with social acceptance for using
physiology.39
At the same time we are alone with our matter bias, sentenced to being
helped by specialists and we can oppose our submission and sway of
necessity only with weak and fragile human value. A significant difference
between old-Manichaean and new-Manichaean recognition is “conviction
of aloneness my and man’s, in the face of limitless space, in motion yet
empty, from which no voice reaches down.40” In other part of Visions from
San Francisco Bay the synthesis shows poignant aloneness as the most
important attribute of contemporary human condition:
(…) The solitude of man in the universe, his imagination disinherited from
a space related to God; images of what is taking place on the surface of the
entire planet, which are constantly bombarding us; the neo-Manichaean
38
39
Renata Gorczyńska, Podróżny świata. Rozmowy z Czesławem Miłoszem, [Word
Traveller. Conversation with Czesław Miłosz] (Cracow: Wydawnictwo Literackie), 59.
40
hatred for matter: Promethean defiance in the name of human suffering is

sent into a void, since there is no addressee.41
Finally Miłosz writes about something very typical of the 20th century:
(...) nihilistic despair at a world unredeemed by God, a world empty because
abandoned by Providence, where good an evil are deprived of higher
sanction, and that impulse of the will postulating reason in opposition to
universal unreason.42
A very similar experience of alienation, aloneness and an act of will

against an unreasonable sway of necessity was expressed 22 years later, in
the poem “Meaning” from the volume Provinces (1991):
When I die, I will see the lining of the world.
The other side, beyond bird, mountain, sunset.
The true meaning, ready to be decoded.
What never added up will add up,
What was incomprehensible will be comprehended.
– And if there is no lining to the world?

If a thrush on a branch is not a sign,
But just a thrush on the branch? If night and day
Make no sense following each other?
And on this earth there is nothing except this earth?
– Even if that it is so, there will remain

A word wakened by lips that perish,
A tireless messenger who runs and runs
Through interstellar fields, through the revolving galaxies,
And calls out, protests, screams.43
I mentioned this poem as an example of presence of this key issue and

a dilemma present since childhood also in his late works. The Author of
‘Theological Treatise’ (2001) never abandoned completely his “Manichaean
poisons” (phrase from the volume Where the Sun Rises and Where it Sets). On
the other hand, one cannot call Miłosz Manichean or Gnostic. We can only
mention some trends, inclinations, Manichaean temperament or intellectual
feature pulling him towards Gnostic doctrine. In Miłosz calls himself “on
41
42
43
Czesław Miłosz, New and Collected Poems 1931–2001 (New York: Harper Collins
Publishers, 2001), 569.
some level Manichaean ecstatic pessimistic,”44 explaining that he “was too

enthralled by the earth to see in it a reflection of pure, unattainable Good.” 45
It can be said that on the one hand he saw and experienced the
cruelty of the world, on the other he ecstatically eulogized over its sensual
beauty and this remained in contradiction with his conviction of the earthly
omnipotence of The Prince of This World.
The concept of Neo-Manichaeism expressed in the Visions from
San Francisco Bay was quite ephemeral. It never turned into an extended
and coherent theory. Miłosz never used this term later although he often
referred to un-prefixed Manichaeism. It doesn’t mean, however, that he
abandoned his diagnosis from the Visions completely. Some of its elements
are expanded in The Land of Ulro and many other works. When Renata
Gorczynska asked him whether he still likes “Manichaean poisons,”46 he
answered: “Of course, most of all.”47
Czesław Miłosz often refers to ancient Gnostic works. He is a
translator of “The Poem of the Pearl” (a Gnostic apocrypona attributed to
Bardesanes) and epigraphs translated from the Corpus Hermeticum in The
Unencompassed Earth. However, it is Visions from San Francisco Bay that
seems to be the book most inspired by Mani’s works. One can find the most
of “Manichaean poisons” in this volume of essays.
References
Bolewski, Jacek. ‘Teologia Ziemi Ulro“. In Miłosz i Miłosz (Miłosz and Miłosz),
edited by Aleksander Fiut, Artur Grabowski, Łukasz Tischner, 169–189.
Cracow: Księgarnia Akademicka, The Gold Center/Milosz Institute 2013.
Franaszek, Andrzej. Miłosz. Biografia. Cracow: Znak, 2011.
Gorczyńska, Renata. Podróżny świata. Rozmowy z Czesławem Miłoszem. Cracow:
Wydawnictwo Literackie 2002.
Jonas, Hans. The Gnostic Religion. The Message of the Alien God & The Beginnings of
Christianity. Boston: Beacon Press, 1958.
Kaźmierczyk, Zbigniew. Dzieło demiurga. Gdańsk: Słowo. Obraz. Terytoria, 2011.
Miłosz, Czesław. Przypis po latach. In Miłosz, Czesław. Widzenia nad zatoką San
Francisco. Cracow: Wydawnictwo Literackie, 2000.
Miłosz, Czesław. Native Realm. A search for self definition, trans. by Catherine S.
Leach, Harmondsworth: Penguin books, 1988.
Miłosz, Czesław. Visions from San Francisco Bay. Translated by Richard Lourie.
Manchester: Carcanet New Press, 1982.
44
Miłosz, Ziemia Ulro, 163.
45
Miłosz, Ziemia Ulro, 163.
46
Gorczyńska, Podróżny świata, 59.
47
Gorczyńska, Podróżny świata, 59.
Miłosz, Czesław. New and Collected Poems 1931–2001. New York: Harper Collins
Publishers, 2001.
Miłosz, Czesław. Ziemia Ulro. Cracow: Znak, 2000.
Nathan, Leonard and Quinn, Arthur. “San Francisco Bay”. In Nathan, Leonard and
Quinn, Arthur. The Poets work. An Introduction to Czesław Miłosz. Cambridge,
Massachusetts and London: Harvard University Press, 1991.
821.161.1.09-1
929:62 Koltunov I.
Stanislav Panin
Department of Philosophy, Dmitry Mendeleev University of Chemical
Technology of Russia
Esoteric Poetry in the Late USSR: The Case

of Jan Koltunov
The name of Jan Koltunov (1927–2016) is not on the list of the most
famous Russian esoteric leaders. At least, nobody has ever dedicated a
study specifically to him as an esoteric author, although Birgit Menzel has
mentioned him briefly in her chapter in New Age of Russia, where Koltunov
is described as “an ardent Roerich disciple, who in 1976 founded the
popular yoga-club Kosmos, disguised as a sport-institute, which at times
attracted over a thousand practitioners.” Despite of an impressing number
of students back in the 1970s, Koltunov’s books were not translated into
English, and it seems that information about his ideas did not spread outside
the USSR. Moreover, even in Russia it is very unlikely to find these books
by chance in a bookshop or in a library.
Although Koltunov is not a popular esoteric author nowadays, the study
of his ideas is still important for scholars of Soviet esotericism. The most
obvious reason of it is the fact that Koltunov is a very typical example of the
late-Soviet esotericist, and a study of his biography can help us to understand
better specifics of Russian esotericism of that period. At the same time, he
influenced a number of contemporary esoteric groups in Russia. His ideas in
some regards shaped contemporary Russian esotericism, and examination
of Koltunov’s connections with contemporary esoteric groups revealed that
Koltunov was an influential figure in the late-Soviet esoteric circles.
Koltunov wrote a series of books in which he explains his ideas about
religion, philosophy, society, self-development and related topics. In the
last period of his life, between 2000 and 2016, he was very active on the
Internet. He struggled to promote his ideas and published many of his
* stanislav_panin@gmx.com

Birgit Menzel, “Occult and Esoteric Movements in Russia from the 1960s to the
1980s,” in The New Age of Russia, edited by Birgit Menzel et al. (München, Berlin: Verlag
Otto Sagner, 2012), 168.
176 Stanislav Panin
works online, which makes them now easily accessible for scholars. Besides
that, primary sources related to the study of Koltunov’s doctrine include
memoirs, interviews and biographical works prepared by his followers, the
most extensive of which is a book of Valentin Bratenko A Road to the Temple,
published in 1999.
We should begin the talk about Koltunov’s esoteric poetry with a
brief overview of his biography that will help us deepen our understanding
of his ideas by placing those ideas in historical context. Koltunov was born
in 1927 in Moscow. After the Second World War, he began to study and
graduated from the Moscow Aviation Institute to work as a rocket engineer.
In some regards, it resembles a story of the American occultist Jack Parsons
(1914–1952), who was thirteen years older than Koltunov and also was a
rocket engineer involved in the occult movement about the same time on
the other side of the Iron Curtain. However, the roots of their esoteric
ideas were different: whereas Parsons was inspired by the ideas of Aleister
Crowley, Koltunov was a reader of the works of Russian “grandfather of
space travel” Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, who was also a proponent of the so-
called “cosmic philosophy,” which was, in turn, influenced by the early 20th
century Theosophical groups. Followers of Koltunov’s ideas also pointed
to some parallels between Koltunov and the American astronaut Edgar
Mitchell, who landed the Moon during the Apollo 14 mission in 1971.
Mitchell said that during the flight he had a mystical experience that soon
led him to the creation of esoteric teaching of “noetics.” This idea of mystical
interpretation of cosmic exploration was important to Koltunov as well.
When Koltunov had a chance, he participated in the evening courses
of philosophy at Moscow universities, which was one of the most obvious
legitimate ways that time in the USSR to get some information about topics
related to esotericism, like ancient Indian, Chinese and Greek philosophy,
medieval and modern religious philosophy, etc. Koltunov and his followers
also extensively used ideas of Soviet mainstream authors, for instance,
Dmitrii Likhachev and even Vladimir Lenin, whose quotes adjoined quotes
from Nikolaj Berdyaev, Augustine of Hippo and Rerihs.
In the late 1970s, Koltunov elaborated his doctrine of Cosmic Self-
Programming (Kosmičeskoe Samoprogrammirovanie) or KSP that he
started to popularize in the 1980s. The abbreviation KSP was interpreted
by followers of the movement in several manners, not only as Cosmic

Michael Hagemeister, “Konstantin Tsiolkovskii and the occult roots of space
travel,” in The New Age of Russia, edited by Birgit Menzel et al. (München, Berlin: Verlag
Otto Sagner, 2012), 143.

Valentin Bratenko, Doroga k hramu [A Road to the Temple] (Moscow, 1999), accessed
October 13, 2016, http://www.koltunov.ru/Literature/DorogaKHramu.pdf, 3

This abbreviation is pronounced in Russian as ka-es-pe.
Esoteric Poetry in the Late USSR: The Case of Jan Koltunov 177
Self-Programming, but also Complex Self-Programming (Kompleksnoe

Samoprogrammirovanie), primarily for external audience, or Koltunov’s
Self-Programming (Koltunovskoe Samoprogrammirovanie) by some of his
students, or even How to Advance Thyself (Kak Sebja Prodvinut’). The
main tenet of the teaching was an idea that the Cosmos is a living creature,
of whom we all are parts and with whom we can and should communicate to
make our life better. Koltunov even coined the word “cosmoterica” (Russian:
kosmoterika; derived from kosmos and esoterika) to name the doctrine that
should be a “unity and complementation of exo- and esotericism”.
As many other figures of Soviet occult underground, Koltunov was
an engineer who looked for spiritual answers and found them by means of
creation of an original esoteric doctrine. This doctrine incorporated ideas of
cosmism, yoga and Chinese martial arts. Koltunov was one of the first active
yoga teachers in the USSR, and, thanks to little competition, his lessons
that were free for students attracted dozens of followers. The movement in
general was completely non-profit – to volunteer, to work for no money for
the sake of self-development and to help others was an important part of
its teaching. It was, in a sense, an implementation of Soviet socialist, anti-
capitalist ideals in spiritual practice. Lessons usually took place in open air
in a small town near Moscow. The lesson usually included different types
of gymnastics, yoga postures and so-called “meditative run” together with
conversations about spiritual development, harmony with nature, cosmic
ethical laws and practice of meditation. There also were summer camps
that took place in different parts of the USSR.
One of important features of Koltunov’s teaching was its
representation in the form of poetry. Some of his books were poetic
compendiums with brief esoteric commentaries, while other books were
prosaic, but still usually included a section with poetry. It is obvious that
poetic representation has prominent meaning for the movement; however,
Koltunov was not a gifted or professional poet, but rather an obvious
amateur who created the most part of his poems in trains or during sessions
of his “meditative run.” A representative example of his poetry is the
following verse from a three-page long poem entitled “Five Years of the
Wide Movement of KSP”:

Ian Koltunov, Vstan’ Rossija, s kolen preklonennyh! [Stand up, Russia, from your
knees!] Vol. 1. (Kaluga: Izdatel’stvo Kaluzhskoi oblorganizatsii Soiuza zhurnalistov Rossii,
1999), 87.

Bratenko, Doroga k hramu, 7.


Ian Koltunov, Oblast’ projavlennogo Čuda v žizni Probuždënogo [An Area of the
Manifested Miracle in a Life of the Awakened], accessed October 13, 2016, http://koltunov.
ru/Literature/Miracle1.htm
178 Stanislav Panin
Their slander and closure of the first clubs of KSP,

Persecutions of me, activists and all the KSP movement,
Were like fires of inquisition, Auto-da-fé,
That took place right before the early Renaissance.
The poem, written in 1985, is all like this verse, a detailed story of the first
years of the movement. It may seems boring; yet at the same time it helps to
feel the atmosphere of the time when any type of unconventional spirituality
was oppressed by the government, and yet people struggled to find answers
for their spiritual questions and looked for spiritual guidance.
Other poems, which are more fruitful for our study, aimed to inform
readers about the teaching of the movement. The first thing that become
obvious for a reader is the fact that although Koltunov was not a neopagan
author, he explicitly developed the idea about a special historical role of
Russian pre-Christian culture as opposite to Orthodox Christianity officially
supported by the government before the 1917 revolution. In one of his
poems, created in 1990, Koltunov wrote:
…Solemnly they proclaimed to their adepts
That their religion and dogmas,
Customs and servants of the Church and the government
Are higher than others and only they
Should be accepted by the people with no questions,
While everything that was before in Rus’
Traditions of that clear and pious life,
And, what is more, deep meanings of calendars,
And Russian letters, sounds of Russian speech
Their Cosmic Essence and important meanings
And Knowledge, and the Arts of Revelation,
Historical experience and culture
Should be forgotten and destroyed
Because it’s nothing more, they said, than mere pagan darkness…10
Koltunov’s interest in Slavic paganism reflects tendencies of the early

1980s that included growing interest in ancient Slavic mythology in the
USSR, supported by publication of popular books of academic historian
Boris Rybakov. Rybakov wrote about “pagan theology” of volkhvs, Slavic
pagan priests,11 and his influence on the development of Slavic paganism
was in some regards similar to the influence of Margaret Murray on Gerald
Gardner. At the same time, although Koltunov’s criticized the Russian

Koltunov, Vstan’ Rossija, s kolen preklonennyh!, 53.
10
11
Boris Rybakov, Jazyčestvo drevnih slavjan [Paganism of Ancient Slavs] (Moscow:
Nauka, 1980).
Orthodox Church, his criticism did not target Christianity itself, and the
name of Jesus appears in his poems from time to time as an example of
the spiritual being equivalent to pagan solar gods Daždbog and Jarila, that
could be described as a single entity “Dažd’ – Jarila – Jesus”.12
Koltunov criticized as a repressive social institute not only the
Russian Orthodox Church, but the government as well. According to
Koltunov, they cooperated to suppress spiritual freedom and traditional
national culture that implied a life in a harmony with the nature. In
his criticism of the government, Koltunov was equally skeptical about
Russian monarchy, Soviet regime and post-Soviet Russian government.
He definitely adopted some of the most important tenets of the sixtiers
(Russian: šestidesjatniki), a movement that emerged during the period of
the Khrushchev Thaw. This period, that took place from 1953 to 1964, was
characterized by a liberalization of the Soviet regime that started to allow
existence of moderate civil opposition. This opposition was not explicitly
political, because political opposition was still strictly prohibited; instead,
it was represented for the most part in the field of arts like literature and
music. As Michael Kort put it, “the Communist Party of the Soviet Union
still determined the limits on artistic expression. But those limits became
far less restrictive, and artists who exceeded them did so at the risk of their
careers, not, as was the case under Stalin, their freedom or lives.”13 This
liberalization of atmosphere in the arts can help us understand, why poetry,
songs and literature in general became one of the most obvious ways to
express esoteric ideas in the late USSR.
A doctrine of the Thaw also implied a limited possibility of criticism
of the Communist Party’s bureaucracy as far as the criticism did not
aimed the party in general, its leaders and communist ideology. The anti-
governmental orientation, which was widespread among Soviet esotericists
even in Stalin’s age, only developed during the Hruščev Thaw times and
never disappeared in later Soviet times. One of the obvious reasons in
this case was the fact that governmental officials regularly suppressed
esoteric communities in the USSR. Spiritual seekers were also often critical
about the materialistic and atheistic aspects of ideology supported by the
government. Prominent figures of Soviet esotericism as different from each
other as Evgenii Golovin, Daniil Andreev, Vasilii Nalimov and Ian Koltunov
shared this common feature.
Although Western esoteric doctrines were definitely a matter of
a serious suspicion in the USSR during the Cold War period, “Eastern
philosophy,” on the other hand, was considered as a cultural heritage of
12
13
Michael Kort, A Brief History of Russia (New York: Facts on File, 2008), 205–206.
180 Stanislav Panin
friendly nations. Birgit Menzel accurately describes the situation: “Thanks

to the friendly relations of the USSR with India, many basic texts on
Eastern religions, Buddhism, Hinduism, including yoga philosophy and
practice were accessible to the general public.”14 In 1956, for example, a
new Russian edition of Bhagavad-Gita was published in the USSR, while
an interest in yoga rose thanks to the 1970 Soviet film Indian Yogis – Who
Are They? No wonder that Eastern religions played a prominent role
in Koltunov’s doctrine as well, especially when it comes to the practical
aspects of KSP. In one of his poems, Koltunov mentions “several pathways
to the skies”, including KSP, qigong, wushu and yoga,15 while Bratenko adds
to the list of Eastern sources of Koltunov’s ideas ayurveda, zen and some
other doctrines.16 However, yoga seems to be the most important practice
for Koltunov. The Soviet scientist Ural Zakirov, who worked with Koltunov
for some time, mentioned in his memoirs: “Ian Ivanovič Koltunov [was] an
interesting person, I can say that he had very unusual ideas. (…) I often
visited Koltunov at his apartment; usually he met me in a ‘yoga’ posture, he
was extremely enthusiastic about it.”17
In the terminology of KSP there were a lot of words that were taken
from Indian religious philosophy. For example, the image of the Earth or
even the entire cosmos as a “Universal Ashram” appears several times in
Koltunov’s poems.18 In some of them we can find even more specific terms
like “Ishtva Devata” (the term Koltunov used instead of Ishta Devata).
Derived from Indian religion, it was interpreted by Koltunov as a guardian
angel who provides us with a divine control, transmits divine influence and
provides a response to our deeds as a part of the “Cosmic System of Self-
Organization”.19
Koltunov tried not only to create a holistic approach to different
religions, but also looked for a holistic knowledge of reality in general,
which should combine science and religion. He always used a title of a
member of the Tsiolkovsky Academy of Cosmonautics, a Russian academic
organization that unites scientists and engineers working in a field of space
exploration. Obviously, for Koltunov, there was no difference between his
esoteric ideas and his work as an engineer. Koltunov wrote in 1985:
14
Menzel, “Occult and Esoteric Movements in Russia from the 1960s to the 1980s,” 153.
15
16
17
Ural Zakirov, Est’ v kosmose i naši sledy... [There are our Footprints in the Space
too...] (Kazan: Tatarskoe knižnoe izdatel’stvo, 2000), 28.
18
Koltunov, Vstan’ Rossija, s kolen preklonennyh!, 39, 45.
19
The world is united, and the Universal Science tells about it,
Not a thousand isolated sciences,
If only you could break through fears of the circle enchanted,
The brain would comprehend and understand the World around you.20
Of course, this struggle for a holistic worldview can be regarded as a

common feature of the 20th century Western esotericsm. It was represented
in Theosophy, Thelema, contemporary Masonry and in many other forms
of esotericism.
However, a fascinating thing here is that despite many differences,
on both sides of the Iron Curtain similar processes related to development
of esotericism took place, like a growth of the interest in pre-Christian
cultures or merging of esoteric ideas with a theme of space exploration. At
the first glance, it seems that there should be many differences between
Soviet esotericism and anything we can find in Europe and in the USA of
that time. However, despite of difficulties of intercultural communication
in the period of the Cold War, there still were a lot of similarities between
Soviet, European and American esotericism not only because of the same
roots in the late 19th and early 20th century but also because of underground
cultural exchange and similar cultural contexts, like extensive space
exploration. And if it is correct, why should we not regard the very concept
of deep and comprehensive cultural differences between the USSR and the
West, at least in the case of esotericism, as a mere piece of the Cold War
ideology?
References
Bratenko, Valentin. A Road to the Temple (in Russian, Moscow, 1999), accessed
October 13, 2016, http://www.koltunov.ru/Literature/DorogaKHramu.pdf
Hagemeister, Michael. “Konstantin Tsiolkovskii and the occult roots of space travel.”
In The New Age of Russia, edited by Birgit Menzel, Michael Hagemeister,
Bernice Glatzer Rosental, 135–149. München, Berlin: Verlag Otto Sagner,
2012.
Koltunov, Ian. An Area of the Manifested Miracle in a Life of the Awakened (in Russian),
accessed October 13, 2016, http://koltunov.ru/Literature/Miracle1.htm.
Koltunov, Ian. Stand Up, Russia, from Your Knees! (In Russian). Vol. 1. Kaluga:
Izdatel’stvo Kaluzhskoi oblorganizacii Soiuza žurnalistov Rossii, 1999.
Kort, Michael. A Brief History of Russia. New York: Facts on File, 2008.
Menzel, Birgit. “Occult and Esoteric Movements in Russia from the 1960s to
the 1980s.” In The New Age of Russia, edited by Birgit Menzel, Michael
20
182 Stanislav Panin
Hagemeister, Bernice Glatzer Rosental, 151–185. München, Berlin: Verlag

Otto Sagner, 2012.
Rybakov, Boris. Paganism of Ancient Slavs (In Russian). Moscow: Nauka, 1980.
Zakirov, Ural. There Are Our Footprints in Space too… (in Russian). Kazan: Tatarskoe
knižnoe izdatel’stvo, 2000.
821.161.1.09-1
78.067.26(470)”19”
Pavel NosaCHev*
National Research University Higher School of Economics, Moscow
The Influences of Western Esotericism on Russian

Rock Poetry of the Turn of the Century**
Many researchers believe that Russian rock music has become a

phenomenon, largely formed by religious interests of its creators. For
example, Russian rock classic Boris Grebenshchikov’s interest in Buddhism,
Christianity and Hinduism is well known. However, researchers rarely give
consideration not to religious but esoteric influence in the works of Russian
rockers. I would like to address this side of their work in my paper. It is
necessary to raise a few key questions:
1) Which Western esotericism features inspired Russian musicians’
creativity and which esoteric theories did they address?
2) How conscious was their address to esotericism: whether it was
a tribute to fashion, artistic device or expression of personal be-
liefs?
It is clear that Russian rock period of formation and development (the late
1970s–1990s) becomes a period of a new era in the religious life of the
citizens of the USSR, and later Russia. It was a situation when religion and a
wide range of schools made spiritual perfection an aim, available to anyone.
The increase in the number of esoteric literature samizdat publications is
associated with the 1980s, the groups practicing various forms of Eastern
* pavel_nosachev@bk.ru
** The publication was prepared within the framework of the Academic Fund Program
at the National Research University Higher School of Economics (HSE) in a 2018–2020
(grant № 18-01-0044) and by the Russian Academic Excellence Project “5–100”.

For example, see Huttunen T. “Russian Rock: Boris Grebenŝčikov, Intertextualist,”
accessed October 03, 2016, http://www.helsinki.fi/venaja/e-materiaali/mosaiikki/en1/
th1_en.pdf; Peršin D. “15 voprosov o vere Borisu Grebenŝčikovu” [15 questions about faith
to Boris Grebenŝčikov], accessed October 03, 2016, http://www.pravmir.ru/15-voprosov-
borisu-grebenshhikovu/

At this time appear the first translations of Castaneda and Manly P. Hall.
184 Pavel Nosachev
mysticism has emerged, the NRM branches were created. In such a case
spiritual freedom of the 1980s and later 1990s was not filling a blank slate.
There have been underground esoteric groups in the Soviet Union since
the late 1950s, where the ideas of the fourth way, integral traditionalism,
anthroposophy and the different variations of the eastern systems are the
most popular. All heroes of my paper were people, more or less affected by
this esoteric underground, either directly or indirectly, through lectures,
literary and publishing activities.
One of the central figures of the Soviet underground was Evgenij
Golovin. He was a philologist by education, an expert in Swedish and
French literature, he was a follower of Western esotericism by conviction,
he studied alchemy, Renaissance occult theories, especially natural magic,
Golovin was the one who opened Guénon, Evola and other traditionalist
works in the USSR and widely disseminated their ideas. Golovin was a poet
and sang songs as well. It is interesting to analyze Golovin’s impact on the
Russian musicians.
When throwing a stone into the water, the water circles will diverge
in different directions and the farther they are from the center of the fall,
the weaker the vibrations are. Something similar may be observed with
outstanding esoteric teachers, a group of followers grouping near one or
another teacher, which involve others and so the ideas are spread, but the
less people are familiar with the teacher himself, the weaker this influence
is. Golovin was born in 1938, one of his oldest students-musicians was born
in 1958, so that Golovin was at least a generation older than his students,
which ensured his special influence on them. It is better to start the review
from those musicians who have experienced the direct influence of the
Soviet esoteric underground and Yevgenj Golovin in particular, and then
refer to the musicians, whose works have esoteric motives, but not directly
related to Golovin.
The leader of the band called “Va-Bank” Alexander Skljar became
acquainted with Golovin accidentally when he was a thirteen-year-old
teenager. This is how Skljar describes this meeting: “I’m at home, reading
“The Cathedral ...” written by Hugo, listening to “Morrison Hotel” by the
Doors. Doorbell. I open. Two drunken men are at the door. We exchange
greetings. One of them said that they couldn’t remember which floor their

For example, Unification Church and Krishna Consciousness.

For more on this topic, see Menzel B., Hagemeister M., Rosenthal B.G., eds. The New
Age of Russia: Occult and Esoteric Dimensions (Berlin: Verlag Otto Sagner, 2012).
The Influences of Western Esotericism on Russian Rock Poetry... 185
fellow lived on, they heard familiar music outside the door – so here lived a
normal person. We became acquainted.”
They actively communicated with Golovin since then, even trying to
make a collective musical project, but for some reason it did not take place.
Skljar considers himself Golovin’s student and is in close contacts with
Alexander Dugin, the main follower of Golovin and the most active Russian
traditionalist. Skljar and the band “Va-Bank” created by him become
widely known in the USSR and give concerts abroad since 1987. Since 1991
a cooperation between Golovin and Sklyar begins, actually Golovin is the
author of about a quarter of the songs by “Va-Bank” recorded in the period
from 1990 to 2005. Songs based on Golovin’s poems have several levels of
meaning. Such “Va-Bank” hit songs as “Learn to Swim” and “Eldorado,”
although they may resemble the usual entertaining songs in the outward
expression, but in fact reflect Golovin’s alchemical ideas. This trace is even
more noticeable in other songs, so the song called “Amanda” actually tells
the story of love to the fire elemental – Salamander, the access to which
is possible only through the imagination, which directly reflects the views
of Golovin on the nature of alchemy as an inner spiritual practice. In the
song called “John Donne 2000” esoteric images of Donne’s work are used:
in particular the compass and a circle symbolism and the search for true
self. In general, the theme of femininity (true and false), the four elements
and elemental spirits symbolism, the North Pole as a spiritual center theme
are clearly expressed in the majority of the songs written by him for “Va-
Bank.”
If Alexander Skljar sings esoteric songs written by Golovin, Vasilij
šumov, Skljar’s friend, met Golovin in the 1980s and writes songs under his
influence. Golovin wrote a few songs for one of the first albums of šumov’s
band that also became hits, such as “Summer Lines Stewardess”, which
in particular have a comparison of rock ‘n’ roll with white birds from the
final lines of The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, Golovin’s favorite book
by the American writer. But the cooperation between Šumov and Golovin
came to an end in the late 1980s, when Šumov had emigrated to the United
States but Golovin’s impact on his work are noticeable and thereafter. So

Alexander Skljar A. “Korabli ne tonut, ili skazka dlinnoju v žizn’” [The ships did
not sink or tale as long as life] in Gde net parallelej i net poljusov: pamjati Evgenija Golovina
[Where there is no latitudes and no poles: In memory of Yevgeny Golovin] (Moscow, Jazyki
slavjanskoj kul ’tury, 2015), 189.

“Amanda,” accessed October 03, 2016, https://the-fasol.com/page_chords.php?id=46929

“John Donne 2000,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://teksty-pesenok.ru/rus-
vabank/tekst-pesni-dzhon-donn/1759356/.

“Summer Lines Stewardess,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://tekstovnet.ru/22/
Tsentr/tekst-pesni-Styuardessa-Letnih-Liniy.
186 Pavel Nosachev
the song, written by Šumov, called “The Accident in the Subway” illustrates
Guenon’s relation to the modern world, which Golovin also shares. The story
in the song is told by the young man, who was in a crowded subway car in
the afternoon, where “blind went wild”, starting breaking windows. This
experience is shocking for the lyrical hero and forces him to quit college.
In the mid-1990s Golovin wrote the book called Sentimental Rock ‘n’ Roll
Madness, entirely devoted to Šumov, in which he interpreted a number of
Šumov’s songs in the esoteric way. Golovin gives such interpretation to the
song called “The Accident in the Subway:” “The Underground. One of the
new era determinants, which sharply separates it from the others, it is a
good illustration of words ‘you are dust, and to dust you shall return’. Going
down with the help of escalator, car, sleepiness in the mother’s womb in the
roaring darkness, birth, entering the illuminated station – manifestation.
Quite an initiatory experience wiped out by powerful dailiness. And apart
from this subway arouse a lot of associations: it often appears in the sleepy
nightmares and staying in the car, in spite of the ‘reading in public transport’
raise gloom, forced-idle thoughts ... The blind breaking black glass in a black
tunnel while wobbling sound – a rhythmic composition, ‘concrete music.’
This song is about happening, shock therapy for the half-dead (because of
the daily inertia) passengers. The art, having lost its religious, philosophical,
educational functions, as for its impact become like a kitten with a ball, a
car accident, a naked man with only a tie just hurrying to the businesslike
crowd, so, to everything that attracts the bleeding eye. Vasyliy Šumov in
his artistic image is this blind himself, and his song only softens and slows
down the steel punch glass kick...”10.
A musician, Sergej Kalugin and his group called “Orgy of the righteous”,
emerged in 1999, is perhaps the brightest example of the modern Russian
rock esoteric influences, so I will analyze his work in details. Kalugin was
also familiar with Golovin and for some time was in circles of Russian
traditionalists close to him. A young man was seriously interested in the
various forms of esotericism, later he became Orthodox, but up until now
his work is a complex fusion of many influences.
Kalugin noticed several times in interviews that all of his work can
be divided into two periods: nigredo and albedo. In 1994 he recorded his
first album on CD, the album title speaks for itself – Nigredo. The motifs
associated with darkness are made to play in the album cover design, all

“The Accident in the Subway,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://www.jooov.net/
text/147242425/tsentr_vasiliy_shumov-sluchay_v_metro.htmls.
10
Evgenij Golovin, Sentimental’noe bešenstvo rok-n-rolla [Sentimental rock ‘n’ roll
madness], accessed October 03, 2016, http://www.e-reading.mobi/chapter.php/86776/12/
Golovin_-_Sentimental%27noe_beshenstvo_rok-n-rolla.html.
the illustrations are made in dark colors and is mostly articulated on the
two images – the circle and the sun. Thus, the idea of the album design
may be reduced to the variations on the black sun theme (sol Niger) –
which is well known as the image of the first stage of the Great Work in
the alchemy. It is worth mentioning that the image of the black sun began
to play an important role in the far-right spectrum of esoteric movements
of the second half of the 20th century, which was close to Kalugin at that
time.11 Poetically and musically, almost the entire album is also designed
in accordance with the ideas of death, destruction and degradation.
Compositionally, it is constructed from the sonnets, interlaced with songs,
there are four sonnets and five songs arranged in a checkerboard pattern
in the album. In the first song called “The King-Muskrats story”12 the story
of fratricide is the plot, in which one – because of the “Fish, whose food are
eyes” one brother kills the other and goes crazy. In the second song, called
“Casanova’s Dance,”13 the story is told on behalf of the great tempter, who
exposes a complex range of feelings and thoughts while seducing a new
girl and the central idea in the Casanova “reflection” is: “I am captured by
the voluptuousness of flight on an exploded life fragment!” A very similar
picture appears also in the “The Black Moon Rising”14 where even the name
itself refers directly to the alchemy. The lyrical hero of the song is captured
by a dark femininity, which opened to him an unbearably hard experience
of existence, this experience rocked his world, forcing to refuse walking on
the “path of light.” The finale of the song is the hero’s sacrificing himself to
this dark femininity. The final song of the album “My Joy” is dedicated to
the similar theme. All the lyrics describe the human feelings of standing on
the edge of unavoidable death, and the perception of death itself cannot be
called gloomy, to him death is the best thing that can happen to a person,
that’s what is said in the text as for this: “Cry, do you hear? – The Heaven
is calling us, so cry, vaults of time are breaking down with the rumble, cry
because of wild freedom, limitless and terrible freedom... Cry! There is
nothing like death!”15 A similar figurativeness is introduced in the sonnets
too, so the moon and wandering in the dark themes are revealed in the third
and fourth sonnets, the second sonnet ends with the words “The words are
dead, my soul is dead.” It is important to note that the stage of work in
black is perceived as a necessary condition for further metal changes in
11
For more on this topic, see Goodrick-Clarke Nicholas, Black Sun: Aryan Cults,
Esoteric Nazism and the Politics of Identity (New York: New York University Press 2002).
12
“The King-Muskrats Story,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://orgia.ru/release.
php?id=11.
13
“Casanova’s Dance,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://orgia.ru/release.php?id=11.
14
“The Black Moon Rising,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://orgia.ru/release.php?id=11.
15
“My Joy,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://orgia.ru/release.php?id=11.
188 Pavel Nosachev
the alchemy, leading to a transmutation as a result, it is also obvious in

Kalugin’s Nigredo that the album end is death, its main theme, but death
as a necessary step to the otherness, escape from this world, that’s is why
there is nothing and couldn’t be better than death. Death is not only the
end of this life, but also the beginning of a new one.
At least two songs have the images of interest to us in the album
called For Those Who Are Dreaming, released in 2010. From the very title of
the sixth song of the album called “The Raven Road”16 we can see a direct
allusion on the first stage of the alchemical work. In the whole lyrics of the
song there is an interpretation of alchemical practice as an inner spiritual
path that requires serious ascetic efforts. We also find an interesting image
in the other song from the same album “The Way in the Ice,” which has a
direct relation to the alchemical symbolism. Human life is illustrated by the
following verse: “We go through the night, without hope to reach the dawn
in these ices beyond range. There is no other dawn than we have. A fire,
illuminating the part of the worlds is in our heart.”17 So, we have the image
of the night – nigredo again, which there is a need to pass through, to reach
the dawn, and the course is kept to the north, which is associated with the
male principle in alchemy. There is also an important image of inner fire,
known in later alchemy and in Castaneda’s teachings.
The single “Shitrok” released in 2012 perhaps illustrates Kalugin’s
interest in alchemy in the most direct way. His latest composition called
“Royal Wedding” is a musical-poetic fantasy on J. V. Andrea’s “Chemical
Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz”. Some extracts from the “Chemical
Wedding ...” are read in the composition at certain moments, alchemy is
seen as the antithesis of everyday life here, the practice of searching for
God inside oneself.
The esoteric motifs are well observed and in the most recent album
called For Those Who Are Dreaming Vol. 2, in the song “Windows”18 for
example, the motif of human life from birth to death through the windows
of the apartment in which he lived is made to play, a system of ten (or
more precisely 11 with Daath) sefirots gives the structural unity to the
song and notably the song begins with the last Malchut and is ended with
Keter. Thus, the “Windows” is a song about a life leading to God through
the Sefirot tree.
Esotericism manifested itself in Russian rock differently. So during
a company of deputies election to the State Duma (the country’s main
legislative body) the concert in support of one of the candidates (Alexander
16
“The Raven Road,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://orgia.ru/release.php?id=17.
17
“The Way in the Ice,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://orgia.ru/release.php?id=17.
18
“Windows,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://orgia.ru/release.php?id=25.
Dugin) in St. Petersburg in 1995 under the title “Pop Mechanics 418: Kurehin
for Dugin’s”19 was conducted. It was the last creative project of the famous
Russian musician Sergej Kurehin, who was the creator of performances
since 1984, each of which was called “Pop-Mechanics”. Performance of
1995 has the special character. The figure 418 to the title adding is not
incidentally. We can read such thing in the Crowley’s Book of Law: “They
shall worship thy name, foursquare, mystic, wonderful, the number of
the man; and the name of thy house 418,”20 the Kurehin performance was
actually dedicated to the memory of Crowley and reflected the ideas of his
work in the scenic action. Kurehin left a moment of silence on the memory
of Crowley honoring, and Dugin read extracts from one of his books.
As I mentioned, the impact of esotericism on Russian rock varied. The
band called “Rada and the Blackthorn” was established in 1991 and does
not use direct references to esoteric ideas and concepts, the inspiration by
esotericism is more possible to guess in their work. The circle of reading is
clearly visible from interviews with the band creator – Rada Ančevskaja,
this circle includes all the classics of Western esotericism available in the
1980s-1990s in Russian (Castaneda, Swedenborg, and others), it is known
that she was familiar with Golovin and his circle. “Rada and the Blackthorn”
music creates the impression of a complex magical or shamanic action, in
which listener’s particular feeling of the music process and its performance
on the stage is important. Over the last years Rada has actively worked with
ethnic elements, in particular appears with practicing Khakass and Siberian
shamans and includes in her work shamanic instruments (tambourine), as
well as the shamanic performance style. The group organized a theatrical
performance “Running with Wolves. Women’s Archetypes in the Myths and
Legends” based on the Clarissa Pinkola Estes book in October 2013. Rada
herself describes her work in such a way: “When I say that we play shaman
rock, it does not mean that we are engaged in specific shamanic practices,
but that we feel the earth’s energy. In fact, if you’re playing music, tied to
the tradition – there is no other way ... And the music is ritual of course.
And there is no way without it, too. When you go out on stage and sing,
you perform the ritual, and all the musicians in the band must perform
their ritual during the concert… Or it’s not Rock otherwise.”21 It is worth
mentioning that we can find Yevgenj Golovin’s worldview reflection in her
19
Video of this concert is available on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v
=HoBLYHL3vSA, accessed October 03, 2016.
20
Aleister Crowley, The Book of the Law, accessed October 03, 2016, http://www.
sacred-texts.com/oto/engccxx.htm
21
“Rada i ternovnik”: “Horoshij muzykant – vsegda shaman...” [”Rada and the
Blackthorn”: a Good musician is always a shaman...”], accessed October 03, 2016, http://
darkermagazine.ru/page/rada-i-ternovnik-horoshij-muzykant-vsegda-shaman.
190 Pavel Nosachev
work. For example, in the song called “Salamander”22 the cosmic fire dance
covers the entire universe: angels, mountains, ice floes, sun, whirlwinds
are dancing. And the dance impulse comes from the salamander dancing in
the fire. The entire universe is dancing tango in the song. Speaking about
the styles of dance, Evgenij Golovin characterized tango as follows: “Tango
is the personalized fire element, the alchemist-musician cannot do without
the tango for working with the elements.”23
The main aspects of esoteric influence in Russian rock cannot only
be described by Golovin’s influence. The poet and musician Psoj Korolenko
builds all his creativity on the game with lots of meanings, texts and
techniques typical for different religious traditions (Judaism, Christianity)
and esoteric practices (shamanism, folk magic charms). Korolenko’s songs
are a compound of doctrines, traditions, myths, legends, but this compound
is in the game manner24. This game is inherent in many of his works, as in
the song called “Ala Ulyu”, which is based on the repetition principle, there
are lines “And we fly afar, / We fly away together, together into the distance,
/ Where will be the Mind, where will be the Thunder, / We’ll fly and we’ll
sing ...,”25 the words “Mind” and “Thunder” in the printed text are capitalized.
Here we see a direct reference to the famous gnostic text “Thunder Perfect
Mind”. Or in the song called “The Great Chthonic Principle” where the
idea of prayer to the goddess: “Diana, Selene, Hecate” and “inconspicuous
bodiless Mole” is comically played up in repetition system, containing the
following lines:
Let us pray to the World Underground Mole ... about initiation fleeting / the
magic range full completion / the magical elements rapid transformation /
life-giving tincture preparation / well ascension of the Chosen Generation /
inconceivable Utopia fulfillment / the eternal return of reuniting / a birth of
tragedy from the spirit of music26.
It is obvious that the author is familiar with the Western esoteric “alphabet”,
but the esoteric themes are carried to the point of absurdity in the game
carnival manner here.
22
“Salamander,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://teksty-pesenok.ru/rus-rada-i-
ternovnik/tekst-pesni-salamandra/1899989/.
23
Sklyâr, “Korabli ne tonut, ili skazka dlinnoiu v žizn̂”, 202.
24
For detailed analysis of Korolenko’s lyrics, see S. V. Sviridov “Pesni Psoj Korolenko”
[Songs of Psoj Korolenko] in Russkaja rok-poeziia: tekst i kontekst [Russian rock-poetry: text
and context]. (Tver: Tverskoj gosudarstvennyj universitet, 2005), 5–31.
25
“Ala Ulyu,” accessed October 03, 2016, http://gkitfm.ru/playing/psoj-korolenko_
alja-ulu.
26
“The Great Chthonic Principle” Accessed October 03, 2016, http://teksty-pesenok.
ru/rus-psoj-korolenko/tekst-pesni-htonicheskij/1898153/.
In the end of my paper, I want to get back to the beginning and to

answer briefly on the questions raised.
1) Which of the Western esotericism features inspired Russian musi-
cians creativity, and which theories did they address?
The review shows that the Soviet esoteric underground and Evgenij
Golovin’s figure in particular, had a significant impact on the Russian rock-
music originality, but it’s not the only influence. Russian musicians actively
turn to alchemic, gnostic, magic, shamanic, Crowleyan images and ideas,
combining them into complex combinations and creating on their basis
unique works.
2) How conscious was their appeal to esotericism?
We can conclude from the review that in these examples an appeal to
esotericism was fully conscious and cannot be attributed to fashion, but
likely the appeal to esotericism was an expression of personal beliefs, and
sometimes followed the musicians’ aesthetic needs or was an expression of
their ideology as well.
References
“Rada i ternovnik”: “Horoshij muzykant – vsegda shaman...” accessed October 03,
2016, http://darkermagazine.ru/page/rada-i-ternovnik-horoshij-muzykant-
vsegda-shaman.
Crowley, Aleister. The Book of the Law, accessed October 03, 2016, http://www.
sacred-texts.com/oto/engccxx.htm.
Golovin, Evgenij. Sentimental ’noe beshenstvo rok-n-rolla, accessed October 03, 2016,
http://www.e-reading.mobi/chapter.php/86776/12/Golovin_-_Sentimental-
%27noe_beshenstvo_rok-n-rolla.html.
Goodrick-Clarke, Nicholas. Black Sun: Aryan Cults, Esoteric Nazism and the Politics
of Identity. New York: New York University Press, 2002.
Huttunen, Tomi “Russian Rock: Boris Grebenščikov, Intertextualist,” accessed
October 03, 2016, http://www.helsinki.fi/venaja/e-materiaali/mosaiikki/
en1/th1_en.pdf.
Menzel Birgit, Hagemeister, Michael, Rosenthal, Bernice Glatzer, eds. The New Age
of Russia: Occult and Esoteric Dimensions. Berlin: Verlag Otto Sagner, 2012.
Sviridov, Stanislav. “Pesni Psoj Korolenko.” In Russkaja rok-poeziia: tekst i kontekst,
5–31. Tver: Tverskoj gosudarstvennyj universitet, 2005.
Skljar, Alexander. “Korabli ne tonut, ili skazka dlinnoiu v žizn.” In Gde net parallelei
i net poliusov: pamiati Evgenij Golovina, 189–210. Moscow: Iazyki slavianskoj
kultury, 2015.
299.572
Kateryna Zorya
Södertörn University, PhD candidate
The Post-Soviet Tolkien Spirituality Milieu:

A Comparative Study
Introduction
In recent years, scholars have become interested in a phenomenon that
had been variously termed “hyper-real religion,” “fiction-based religion”
and “invented religions” – describing what happens when a narrative that
had been crafted by its author as overtly fictional is perceived by a group
of people as being truthful not only on a human level, as all relatable
narratives are, but also as one that describes the reality we live in with
a degree of truth. The most famous example is Jediism, but the Church
of All Worlds, Matrixism, and, recently Tolkien spirituality have also been
noted by scholars. These religions have sparked a number of theoretical
discussions on the nature of religion itself, and one of the aspects of these
discussions can be summarized as follows: is there something in the nature
of the source material that lends itself particularly well to becoming a
religion? If so, can we predict by reading a fictional work whether it will
spark the creation of a religion and what form that religion will take?
When answering this question, Markus Altena Davidsen in his PhD
thesis on Tolkien spirituality introduces the notion of religious affordances.
These are elements of the source texts which lend themselves to a religious
reading. One of these elements in the presence of a religion in the fictional
* kzorya@gmail.com

For examples of such studies, see: Adam Possamai, “Alternative Spiritualities, New
Religious Movements and Jediism in Australia” Australian Religion Studies Review 16 (2)
(2003): 69–8; Adam Possamai, ed. Handbook of Hyper-Real Religion. Leiden: Brill, 2012;
and Carole M. Cusak, Invented Religions: Imagination, Fiction and Faith. Farnham, Surrey,
England: Ashgate, 2010; also see the Religion Vol. 46, No. 4 issue for a thematic section titled
“Fiction and Religion: How Narratives about the Supernatural Inspire Religious Belief.”

Davidsen outlines four types of religious affordances in total: the presence of
supernatural (fantastic) elements in the narrative; the author’s assertion of veracity for his
fictional text; the presence of a “divine inspiration” narrative for the author’s creative process;
and religion being present as a key part of the narrative. In our case study of Tolkien, the
194 Kateryna Zorya
text – a religion that can then be adopted by practitioners in the real world.
Later in his work, Davidsen draws a direct parallel between the religion
outlined by Tolkien and the religious practices of his informants, asserting
that Tolkien’s narrative is the primary source for the types of practices
the Tolkien spirituality milieu is engaged in. Where the narrative fails
to provide, such as in the case of describing particular ritual practices,
Davidsen argues that the practitioners of Tolkien-based spirituality engage
in religious blending, that is, drawing upon familiar religious narratives to
fill in the gaps in Tolkien religion. But the primary sources for Davidsen
are texts from the Tolkien corpus – and the differences between groups
of adherents of Tolkien-based religions are explained by them favoring
different texts from this corpus.
While I agree with the basic premise that religious affordances enable
the reading of a fictional text as a religious one, my study challenges the
hypothesis that the form a fiction-based religion will take depends largely
on the content of the texts it is based upon, and that religious blending
will only be a secondary, fallback tool used when a source text does not
elaborate enough on important elements. Instead, I argue that the forms
and practices a new religion will take depend far more on the general
religious climate that the practitioner is immersed in. In other words, a
new religion, whether fiction-based or not, will imbibe practices and beliefs
from dominant religious narratives within the cultures and subcultures
a practitioner comes from, and these will be the primary source for the
forms of worship rather than any source texts. While the beings and terms
these practices reference may come from religious affordances as defined
by Davidsen, the practices themselves are usually borrowed, co-opted and
expanded upon within the context of a new framework of meaning.
To back up my hypothesis, I present a comparative study of Tolkien
spirituality in different geographical locales. I will compare and contrast
Tolkien spirituality as it developed in the former Soviet Union, particularly
in Russia and Ukraine, starting from the late 1980s to Davidsen’s study
of a similar Anglophone, largely American and British milieu. I intend to
author asserts the veracity of his tale by presenting it as ancient, uncovered history, describes
his writing process as “inspired” in letters later accessible to the Tolkien spirituality milieu,
which leads to the reading of “divine inspiration”; includes elements we would consider
“supernatural” in his narrative such as gods and magic; and, finally, presents the outline
of a religion in the form of Elven worship of the Valar. For a detailed exploration of what
religious affordances are, see Markus Altena Davidsen, The Spiritual Tolkien Milieu: A Study
of Fiction-Based Religion, (PhD. diss. Leiden, 2014), https://www.academia.edu/25302152/
The_Spiritual_Tolkien_Milieu_A_Study_of_Fiction_based_Religion_full_text96-104; for
their application to Tolkien, see p. 163–184.

Davidsen, The Spiritual Tolkien Milieu: A Study of Fiction-Based Religion, 105–119.
The Post-Soviet Tolkien Spirituality Milieu: A Comparative Study 195
showcase how Davidsen’s subjects had largely borrowed their religious

frameworks from neo-Paganism or identify as neo-Pagan, while FSU
practitioners of Tolkien spirituality are often found practicing a highly
personal, unusual type of Christianity with some Far Eastern influence –
allowing for reincarnation and otherworldly contacts, while simultaneously
making impossible some practices present in the Anglophone milieu, such
as serious invocation of the Valar.
I will first elaborate on my methodology and the constraints placed
upon me both by the material itself and the current political situation in
former Soviet territories. Then I will present my findings, grouped according
to four sections I used in my questionnaire: the wider social environment
(role-playing milieu) and its importance for the Tolkien spirituality milieu;
beliefs and practices in the spiritual Tolkien milieu; conventional religious
beliefs and their influence; attitude towards gender and personal gender
identity.
Methodology
To begin the study of this small and insular nature milieu, I worked with a
purposive sample, selecting for diversity of religious belief. The aim of my
sample had been to get at least one voice from every combination of beliefs
that I had known about before I conducted my study. I had preliminary
information about the milieu due to participating in the FSU role-playing
subculture for several years. By this I mean: Christian and former Christian
adherents of Tolkien-based spirituality, Neo-Pagan adherents, followers of
Gnostic currents within the Tolkien spirituality milieu, former members who
now identify as agnostic or atheist, and people who remained on the borders
of the milieu, sympathetic but ultimately outside of it. I have succeeded
in providing a selection that represents all of these viewpoints; however,
this is only a pilot study and should be treated as such by the reader. The
sample size that I have studied is not sufficient to draw conclusions about
the milieu as a whole. I have only been able to include a tiny fraction of
the stories provided to me by my informants, and was completely unable
to touch upon the wealth of written material that exists within the post-
Soviet Tolkien spirituality milieu. My chief method of research consisted
of conducting semistructured interviews. For this preliminary study, I
interviewed nine informants, eight of whom have been personally involved
with Tolkien spirituality, and one of whom is an old and respected FSU
Tolkien community member who knows a lot of its history. To preserve the
informants’ privacy, I am also replacing their names with random initials.
196 Kateryna Zorya
Finally, my description of my methodology would not be complete

without a mention of the current political situation in former Soviet
territories. At the time of my writing this in June 2016, the war between
Russia and Ukraine has been waged for two years now, with no sign of
stopping. The Tolkien spirituality milieu was stretched across the entire
former Soviet Union territory, and many of its participants wound up on
opposite sides of the war. My openly pro-Ukrainian position has restricted
my access to informants: I have elected not to approach openly pro-Russian
members of the milieu, even though many of them are important members,
as the questions I had asked in my interviews were of a highly private and
personal nature. A researcher with an open political bias would likely have
made it more difficult for any follow-up research to be done. It is my hope
that a researcher not invested in the conflict will be able to continue my
work.
Findings
Society and the Tolkien spirituality milieu

The spiritual Tolkien milieu in post-Soviet territories consists of private
individuals and small autonomous groups that exist within a larger, non-
religious subculture — that of role-playing. Unlike in Anglophone context,
where adherents of Tolkien spirituality have largely branched off from neo-
Pagan milieux the “parent” subculture in this case is secular, a venue for
self-made, cheap entertainment during the so-called “wild 90s,” a time of
massive and widespread poverty. The groups my informants participated in
were often tiny, with rarely more than a few members, but in many cases,
these groups were more of a family to their members than their actual
families, supporting them through hardship. Even though role-playing is
a completely secular phenomenon, its popularity rose during one of the
most turbulent times, religiously speaking, in contemporary history in FSU

For those unfamiliar with the term, role-playing is perhaps best seen as a form
of improvised theater, where the actors know the psychological profiles and/or goals of
their characters, but are free to act according to circumstances, and where another person
or group of people is responsible for creating and maintaining those circumstances. Role-
playing has many forms: from purely text and speech-based forms, which hark back to telling
stories around the fireplace, to full-on costumed theater. The form as most commonly seen
in the Tolkien-based parts of the milieu is closer to theater, and involves dozens to hundreds
of fully-costumed people acting out particular episodes from Tolkien’s work or re-playing
Tolkien’s narrative with a different outcome.
territories. The Soviet Union had restricted religion, and its fall brought
about a hitherto-unknown freedom of religion, including the resurfacing of
Christianity, which had been driven underground and formed an important
countercultural element throughout the existence of the Soviet Union, and
a flood of translations and publications on esoteric topics. Many people
who had never previously been interested in religion engaged in religious
exploration. At the same time, the basic framework for many people
had been atheism, but a peculiar kind of atheism that worshipped the
Renaissance and the endless capabilities of the human mind, and it was
not at all unusual to find a self-identified atheist engaged in magical or
extrasensory practices.
As the post-Soviet Tolkien milieu was based in a secular movement,
its religious aspect wound up in a liminal space: on the one hand, the
presence of people who believed in past lives and that one of their past
lives was in Arda is common knowledge in the secular role-playing milieu.
On the other hand, such people are often seen as “strange” or “detached”
from normal reality, and there is even a derogatory term present — divnye,
best translated as “fey.” Most of my informants are acutely aware that they
are bringing spiritual matters into a secular context, and almost all of them
mention being completely private about their beliefs. At the same time,
this secular context facilitated discussion about ancient myths and legends,
about other possible worlds, about Christianity as an inspiration for the
work of Tolkien. It enabled the creative expression of personal experiences
in a safe context, through acting them out. And the process of acting itself
also helped craft personal and collective narratives. In this section, I will
examine how the role-playing milieu provided a shared language and space
for religious exploration and how the process of role-playing itself was
conceptualized in religious narratives.
At its inception, the role-playing movement consisted of people who
were educated well above the cultural average. Fads and fashions within
the movement cycled through such diverse topics as the Cathars and Irish

Although there are studies on religion in the Soviet Union, most of them concern
the region’s dominant religion — Christianity. Works such as Ramet eet al. (Ramet et al,
Religious Policy in the Soviet Union, (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993), Lane
(Lane, Christian Religion in the Soviet Union: A Sociological Study (New York: State University
of New York Press, Albany, 1978), Anderson (Anderson, Religion, State and Politics in the
Soviet Union and Successor States, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994)), Corley
(Corley, Felix. Religion in the Soviet Union: an Archival Reader(UK: MacMillan Press, 1996.))
provide much in terms of both Christianity in the Soviet Union and the general Soviet
policy on religion, but a great deal of work remains to be done, particularly where minority
religions are concerned.

The term itself comes from divniy narod, a translation of Tolkien’s appellative for
the elves, fair folk.
198 Kateryna Zorya
and Welsh folklore, medieval court culture and linguistics. Tolkien, with his
impeccable grasp of ancient literature and seamless integration of it into
his narrative, appealed perfectly to this audience. For years, Tolkien games
dominated the role-playing community: while games based on other sources
were present from the very beginning, “Tolkien games” were a synonym for
“role-playing games” for well over a decade. Tolkien was more than just
a name – love for his work became a marker that a person could be talked
to about existential matters in a world which was largely focused on sheer
survival. This included religion, and the role-playing community provided
both a space and a language in which my informants were able to share
their religious experiences. Several of my informants had noted that they
had a variety of experiences that could be classified as religious – visions,
shamanic journeys, and mentor spirits as some examples – however, since
the community where they could talk about their intellectual and spiritual
needs was largely focused on Tolkien, the only ones they could talk about
were those that were explicitly connected to Tolkien’s world. Tolkien
provided a framework in which they could situate their experiences, and all
experiences that did not fit this mold were subsequently filtered out. That
mold, however, was still extremely diverse, and one of the most interesting
aspects of a secular milieu becoming the stage for existential reflection
was how that milieu itself became absorbed into the belief system – that
is, the beliefs and practices that were connected to role-playing games
themselves.
The most common type of role-playing game in former Soviet
territories were the so-called LARPs – Live Action Role Playing games. This
involved groups sized from a dozen people to several hundred who would act
out their roles in one space, usually – a forest or other natural area. Many of
my informants reported either encountering or themselves believing that
a properly-run game would become a “magical space,” where ritual actions
would mysteriously influence the fabric of the game itself, and sometimes
more. In-game divinations would be said to provide accurate information,
in-game rituals would be said to have consequences in the form of seemingly
“coincidental” events. Some groups of organizers even went so far as to
have “magical safety rules” and “magical clean-up crews” for their games.
The clean-up crews would be responsible for negotiating with the spirits of

Excellent overviews of the history of Tolkien translations in the former Soviet
Union and the reception of Tolkien’s work have been provided by Mark T. Hooker, Tolkien
Through Russian Eyes (Walking Tree Publishers, 2003), 15–48, and Olga Markova “Russia,
Reception of Tolkien”, in J.R.R. Tolkien Encyclopedia: Scholarship and Critical Assessment, ed,
Drout, M. (New York: Routledge, 2006): 580–581.

For a historical example that has been preserved online, see: Ingwall Koldun, Pravila
magičeskoj tehniki bezopasnosti v uslovijah živoy rolevoj igry na mestnosti [Magical safety rules
the place the game was held at and for making sure no rituals would disturb
anything living there. Magical safety rules would request that nobody drew
upon actual magical practices in writing rituals for fear of them working
mid-game. To call upon something was often believed to have had power
– which created interesting spiritual implications for playing good and
evil characters respectively. Some of my informants reported that they
knew groups for which games were an opportunity to “bring over” parts
of Tolkien’s world – in a more real sense than merely acting out events. A
loosely held belief was that by truly immersing oneself in a role, one would
allow whatever one was playing into your soul – if it were something good,
then it would be good, and vice versa. Antagonists, then, could be acted out
(for the sake of those who were playing the protagonists), but one would
need to be mindful of not immersing oneself in the role.
While role-playing games were an overwhelmingly secular
phenomenon for the majority of the players and organizers, they were also
the subject of a number of religious beliefs, and individuals and groups
incorporated the special social spaces that were formed by role-playing
into their private narratives. Fearful of policing by the role-playing milieu,
most participants would maintain a strict division between these private
narratives and public manifestations, but some elements of these narratives
can still be seen in public spaces. At the same time, groups existed that
intentionally blurred the boundaries between the fictional and the religious.
These groups, as reported by my informants, used far more fictional works
in their narratives than Tolkien, so I am not focusing on them in this paper,
but their existence must not be disregarded for any future research.
Memory, reincarnation, communication: experiences
and practices
Several key belief elements exist in the Anglophone milieu described in
detail by Davidsen. The core belief of the groups is that Arda, the world
described by Tolkien, as well as its denizens are real. The nature of this
“reality” varies: it can be perceived as our world in the past, or as another,
parallel, world, but it is real in any case. This belief is shared by the post-
Soviet Tolkien spirituality milieu, confirming Davidsen’s thesis that the
core belief of a religion will remain stable across sub-groups and cultures.
in the conditions of a live action role-playing game]. Arda-na-Kulichkah website. Accessed

on June 25, 2016. http://www.kulichki.com/tolkien/arhiv/gamemode/energ.shtml.

O. recalls how a role-playing group that he was part of criticized a member from
drawing upon real-world magical rituals. “Are you crazy? What if it works right in the
middle of a game? What are you going to do with the consequences?” (O., Skype interview
by Kateryna Zorya. April 28, 2016. Audio record.)
200 Kateryna Zorya
There is some variation in how this core belief is formulated across groups,
which accounts for their differences: some groups focus on Elven identity,
others – on the reality of the supernatural and divine beings described
in Tolkien’s legendarium, and so on.10 This is also the level where forms
and practices of religion start to appear, and thus where our comparative
work begins. While sharing the core belief in the reality of Arda, as well
as some of its applications, post-Soviet-based groups seriously differ from
Anglophone ones in how these beliefs are implemented into practice.
For our comparative purposes, the most important core belief is the self-
identification with Elves from Tolkien’s legendarium.11 While a minority in
the Anglophone milieu believes that being an Elf is merely a metaphor for
carrying the Old Religion,12 most self-identified elves believe they are either
reincarnations of elves (“have an elven soul”) or have elvish genes. The
second important belief is that Anglophone Tolkien spirituality is centered
around the predicated existence of the Valar (Tolkien’s gods/archangels,
depending on interpretation) and the ability of members of the milieu
to call upon them in rituals, both rituals of worship and rituals that are
aimed at enacting change in the real world (that is, magical rituals). For the
post-Soviet milieu, I will first examine the belief in reincarnation and the
practices that grow out of it.
The key notion for the post-Soviet Tolkien spirituality milieu is
memory. The milieu is centered around the idea that participants hold
memories from a being that used to live or currently lives in the world of
Arda, the fictional world described by J.R.R. Tolkien. The presence of these
memories is explained by a number of theories within the milieu, which can
be put into two loose groups: reincarnation and communication. Reincarnation
means that the practitioner believes they had a life in Arda; however, that
life is now over. Communication means that the practitioner believes they
have a connection with someone who is still living in a parallel world. The
communication hypothesis was created by Christian members of the milieu,
who needed an explanation for two things: the fact that Tolkien’s elves are
only supposed to reincarnate in Arda13 and for the fact that Christianity
10
11
Notably, there is more variety in the FSU Tolkien milieu than just elves; my
informants have said that humans (mostly from Numenor) and even a dwarf were also
present within the milieu. However, all of them do concur elves are by a large margin the
dominant group; additionally, among my informants, all who had ever believed themselves
to have former lives had Elven past lives.
12
Davidsen, The Spiritual Tolkien Milieu: A Study of Fiction-Based Religion, 453. The
“Old Religion” is a self-referential term for Wicca.
13
On Elven eschatology, see Davidsen, The Spiritual Tolkien Milieu: A Study of Fiction-
Based Religion, 174.
does not normally allow reincarnation. Thus, practices of communication

are present within the milieu, but they are not focused on the “divine”
elements of Tolkien’s narrative. Instead, the communication happens with
elves. I must stress here that according to my informants, there were plenty
of participants in the milieu who identified themselves as Christian and
yet believed in reincarnation.14 Some informants reported the possibility
of both having your own past life and being able to contact someone from
other worlds, in essence, channeling them. In the end, what mattered was
not how you remembered, it was the fact that you remembered.
Someone who considers themselves to have an Arda-based past life
would be called a quen, short from quenta, an Elven word meaning “tale”
or “legend,” the same as in Quenta Silmarillion. Quenta was initially picked
up by the roleplaying milieu to denote “character backstory,” but after
a few years it came to denote the times when a story became more than
simply fiction, but became a narrative of one’s personal past life. Most of
my informants believed in having multiple past lives, the content of which
depended starkly on their background. E., an esotericist, had a chain of past
lives, starting as a priestess in Atlantis and ending today. In her paradigm,
Arda was a world of “well-built, ideal ethics,” where a soul would go upon
losing its way to find it again.15 L., who has a humanities education and
who has since deconverted from a Christian to an atheist, recalls that she
believed herself to have two past lives: one in Arda and one in Alexandria,
during the height of Hellenistic culture.16 M. mentions that even though he
believed in having multiple past lives, he felt it necessary to be quiet about
them when talking to other quens, for fear of rejection.17
Several informants reported that they know people who believe that
they are in fact communicating with their alter-egos, but I only interviewed
one who believes that directly, and the sample size is too small to come to any
conclusions on the percentages of these belief groups. Q. said that they “did
not go into this too deeply, but always had a feeling of parallelness. It’s the
Fourth Age in Arda, and he still lives there; didn’t die, didn’t go to Valinor.”18
Another, A., noted that for her, her experiences of communicating with her
characters were more along the lines of a psychodrama or a mythodrama – a
way to communicate with her own subconscious personalities. A. chose not
to dwell overmuch over whether the game’s reality exists only within the
mind or not – and she found it perfectly possible to keep up conversation
14
This might be linked to the Cathars being in fashion in the role-playing movement
at the time, but this is not certain.
15
E., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. February 11 6, 2016. Audio record.
16
L., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. May 2, 2016. Audio record.
17
M., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. February 7, 2016. Audio record.
18
Q., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. February 10, 2016. Audio record.
202 Kateryna Zorya
with more “mystically minded” people, who believed they were contacting
other beings with a separate existence, as long as one did not have to clarify
terms. The communication was real in the psychological sense, and that
was the important part.19
The milieu is split upon whether memory of other lives needs to
simply come on its own or whether it’s acceptable to use techniques to help
it resurface. My preliminary conclusion is that it is split along the lines of
whether a given group has a Christian or an esoteric background. To provide
a few examples: L. notes that her very Christian group “considered people
using techniques to bring up memories, who used mind-altering substances”
to be ‘them,’ not ‘us.’ L., herself abandoned even popular minor esoteric
practices, such as positive thinking, when she entered her group, and the
group in general looked down at any kind of practice beyond acceptably
Christian ones such as prayer – and even prayer was inapplicable to the
Tolkien framework, for reasons that will be explored in the section below.20
E., on the other hand, freely notes that her memories started returning when
she began serious esoteric practice and meditation, and that these things
helped her understand her past lives and place them in one framework.21 O.
reported that the groups he was in integrated esoteric practices into their
everyday lives – and, notably, he was one of the few informants who did not
report close interactions with Christians.22
While the presence of a past-life memory may confer benefits such
as remembering particular skills one might not possess in their present life,
most of my informants did not report specifically seeking memories to gain
some particular benefit. Most report things like taking easily to horseback
riding, harp playing or other skills that their past incarnation possessed
as “perks,” but there is almost no attempt to view a memory as something
instrumental. It is far more an element of one’s identity rather than a means
to an end: many report being inspired by their past life to take up a more
creative vocation than normally found acceptable in society. As an element
of identity, it was also very private: to know the full extent of someone’s
quenta, or story of one’s past life, would mean that you are considered to be
a very close friend. For example, L. reported that only “three people out of
dozens who knew I was a quen ever knew my full story.” In essence, a quen
is about who one is, not what one does – even if that “is” does confer certain
choices and modi operandi.
19
A., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. February 8, 2016. Audio record.
20
21
22
O., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. April 28, 2016. Audio record.
Almost all of my informants reported that, for them, the memories

were a way to evaluate their own ethics. Additionally to E.’s report mentioned
above, M. noted that he had struggled with jobs he had taken that had been
“useless or even harmful from the point of view of elven ethics” – that
is, non-creative jobs, such as being a secretary. He also noted that he had
had personal, very quiet conversations about ethics with a notable Tolkien
elven lord, Finrod.23 Another former quen I met during preliminary research
noted that the deconversion process began for her when she read the Laws
and Customs of the Eldar,24 a Tolkien essay on elven life that is one of the
primary sources for the FSU Tolkien spirituality milieu, and realized that
those ethics were not quite what she was prepared to live within her own
life. In the end, the elven way of life and one’s own memory of it were a way
to articulate one’s own ethics that were in stark contrast to the surrounding
world and to find strength in a group that is not physically present.
In the Tolkien spirituality discourse, there are particular implicit
limits on what a human being in this world can or cannot do. These limits
are somewhat wider than a purely Christian discourse would involve, but are
narrower than an occult or New Age discourse would have. My informants
have reported remembering past life memories, drawing upon past life skills
or being inspired to learn a skill in their current life, minor healing and minor
probability manipulation techniques. The closer an individual informant is
to one of the major discourses influencing the Tolkien spirituality milieu,
such as Christianity or esotericism, the more likely they are to use or abhor
certain practices, such as channeling, meditation, or magical procedures.
As we will see in the next section, one more practice that is very widely
spread in the Anglophone milieu is almost completely absent in the FSU
milieu – that is, the invocation of the Valar.
Religion
Davidsen asserts that the Anglophone Tolkien milieu draws upon several
religions in order to fill the gaps in Tolkien’s text, in the rough order of
importance of Neo-Paganism, the Western magical tradition, Theosophy
and Christianity. In this section, I will attempt to show how the order of
importance for the post-Soviet Tolkien milieu is practically reversed, and
what effect this had on Tolkien-based spirituality. I will also focus on the
deconversion experiences of post-Soviet Tolkien practitioners, and how
deconversion from religion, whether it was Christianity or a generally
23
24
Tolkien, “Laws & Customs Among the Eldar”, in Morgoth’s Ring, v. 12 of the History
of Middle Earth. (Houghton Mifflin, 1993), 207–253.
204 Kateryna Zorya
spiritual view of the world, necessarily coincided with deconversion from

Tolkien spirituality. Finally, I will examine how the primarily Christian
narrative of the post-Soviet milieu gave birth to the Gnostic narrative of the
Black Book of Arda.
The religious affiliation of my informants is: one Christian, three
agnostics, two atheists, two with no particular religious affiliation but
some spiritual beliefs, and one esotericist who has also undergone baptism,
largely as a magical defensive procedure. When I began my study, I expected
from my preliminary experiences to find a milieu that consists largely of
Christians. Much to my surprise, when I requested interviews with people
whom I knew as Christians, in some cases I found that I had read them
incorrectly, and in others I found that in the meantime they had deconverted
from Christianity. For both of the informants who deconverted, presently
an agnostic and an atheist, their Christianity had corresponded with the
period their identity as a quen had been most important to them25 and,
in fact, Tolkien had played a major part in their choice of religion. They
were also not alone in their deconversion experience: another informant
had mentioned growing up as an atheist, briefly converting to a spiritual
worldview in his young adulthood (which coincided with his experiences as
a quen), and then reverting back to atheism.
The agnostics and the people who identified themselves as having
some spiritual beliefs all spoke warmly about Paganism, and related that
they had incorporated some neo-Pagan practices and rituals into their
lives, such as lighting candles, having small sacrifices for local gods,
and participating in shamanic journeys. However, none of them were
adherents of a particular neo-Pagan worldview, though one maintained
strong ties with several local neo-Pagans and another attended Shamanic
retreats, and most of them described their beliefs as a potpourri containing
multiple elements. What is particularly interesting is that the esotericist
who had been baptized (Christian Orthodox) also found Paganism to be
more attractive than Christianity.26 In essence, they found Paganism to be
aesthetically attractive without immersing themselves too deeply into any
group or belief.
In all cases, the people who proved to be most willing to talk about
their past experiences had been either those who had lived through a
deconversion experience or those who had never had a strong religious
identity. However, the people who used to have such a strong identity
25
One of them now perceives her past life as an important personal story, but nothing
more; another retains the belief in having a past life, but it has receded from being a central
part of their identity.
26
had a Christian one, and I believe this was the case for the milieu at large,
which is far more influenced by Christianity than neo-Paganism. This
is reflected in the beliefs of the Tolkien spirituality milieu concerning
Tolkien’s pantheon. The pantheon consists of Eru, the high god that created
everything, and the Powers – Valar, his lesser gods/archangels, who have
anthropomorphic forms and rule over particular aspects of the elements.
The mythical narrative of Arda involves one of the Valar, Melkor, rising
up in a mutiny against Eru, and essentially taking the role of Satan in the
narrative.27 I will now examine, in turn, the milieu’s theologies on Eru, the
Valar and Melkor.
Varying theologies exist on Eru and, for the Christian part of the milieu,
particularly on whether he is the God of Christianity. Opinions of informants
run the gamut from believing that they are different beings (equal in status
but for different worlds, or possibly with Eru being the lesser of the two
and essentially taking on the role of an even higher archangel in charge of
a particular world) to believing that Eru was simply the name given to God
by the denizens of Arda. An additional interesting theological argument, as
L. recalls, centered around Jesus Christ and whether his coming to Earth
would save the elves as well.28 Those who believed the Earth is Arda believed
so, while those who believed they were communicating had a more difficult
time and evolved theologies centered around alternate possibilities to save
the elves, for example in Tolkien’s narrative of a renewed Arda after the
end of times.29 This, too, was largely a scholastic issue, and not a point of
any real division between groups, which I believe to be demonstrative of
the relative non-importance of Eru to post-Soviet practice. Eru was largely
a non-issue in matters of ritual: if he was the god of a different world, it was
no use appealing to him, and if he was the Christian God, there were many
conventional methods of prayer available.
The FSU milieu is starkly different from the Anglophone milieu
in that Valar-worship is almost completely absent. All of my informants
said that they have never heard of a serious ritual calling upon the Valar
pantheon to communicate with them. While playful rituals, such as calling
upon the name of Manwё, the Vala responsible for the heavens, during
a thunderstorm to see lightning strike and take joy in the synchronicity,
or asking the selfsame Manwё to stop the rain, do exist,30 I have recorded
nothing like the elaborate ritual structures or long communications in
27
For that narrative in Tolkien’s legendarium, see Tolkien, “Ainulindalё” and
“Valaquenta”, The Silmarillion (George Allen & Unwin, London, 1977).
28
29
30
These “playful rituals” also exist in the Anglophone milieu, but alongside serious ones.
206 Kateryna Zorya
mental space as found by Davidsen. The closest was an “elven calendar”

ritual where various symbolic actions would be taken to honor the Valar.31
Interestingly, Davidsen notes the tension between the powerful depiction
of the Valar and the realities of their limited influence when believers
call upon them. He notes that the Anglophone milieu deals with it by
humanizing the Powers, making them even more anthropomorphic than
they were in Tolkien’s tale.32 This problem is completely unheard of in the
post-Soviet Tolkien milieu: instead of humanizing the gods, they simply do
not address them.
For most of my informants, the idea that the Valar could be
communicated with was perceived with some incredulity, and they gave
me several reasons for this kind of communication being unfeasible. Three
positions repeated with some variation across my informants: honoring the
Valar is possible but requests to them are not; there are more appropriate
powers to petition in this world; the Valar hold sway over a different
world and so it’s no use communicating with them directly. Notably, while
the explanation why such communication is unfeasible depends on the
worldview of the informant (whether Arda is this world or another one;
what sort of relationship did their past life have with the Valar) none of my
informants have never even ever heard of Valar-worship being a significant
part of someone’s Tolkien-based spiritual practices, with one significant
exception which is, in turn, almost completely absent from the Anglophone
milieu: Melkor, the mutinous Vala who plays the role of Satan in Tolkien’s
narrative.
To explain what role Melkor played in the Russian Tolkien spirituality
milieu, an aside must be made concerning the role of fanfiction in the post-
Soviet Tolkien fandom. Fanfiction – that is, a form of reflection upon a
narrative by writing stories that are additions, fill-in-the-blanks, and
alternate versions of events – in the 1990s and early 2000s was very different
culturally from the same phenomenon in Anglophone space. The difference
even in the name is telling: post-Soviet fanfiction began under the name of
apocrypha, referencing the difference between a religious canon and texts
that were not part of it. Early post-Soviet fanfiction was mostly focused
on world-building – and some of that world-building, though certainly
not all and likely not even most, was part of a religious experience or, in
turn, created a religious experience or was read as a religious experience. A
separate study would need to be done to discern the true role of “apocryphal”
texts in post-Soviet Tolkien spirituality, so here I will note only the presence
of several major texts that dealt with “spiritual” issues or were read as such
31
32
by the general public, sometimes to the great chagrin of the author, who
insisted that their text was pure literature.
The most controversial and most important text is, perhaps, the
Black Book of Arda. Initially co-authored by Natalia Vasilyeva and Natalia
Nekrasova (pen and fandom names Elhe Niennah, or simply Nienna, and
Illet respectively), the book tells the tale of Melkor, a lonely figure who
has seen through the tyranny of Eru and his cronies, the Valar, and of
how he had made an effort to free souls from the captivity of Arda, and
take them into the wider universe.33 The quintessentially Romantic and
Gnostic narrative was passed around in manuscript form years before it was
published, and immediately attracted followers, who would remember their
past lives as oppressed and hunted followers of the kindly and enlightened
Melkor. Among my informants, three reported interactions with this milieu:
the consensus was that Nienna fans were not quens. Several reasons were
given: because their past lives weren’t in Tolkien’s Arda, because they were
thought to participate in mind-altering practices (unlike proper quens, who
let memories come on their own), because their relationship with Melkor
was believed to be highly personal.
I do not have any particular data on whether such a relationship was
more personal, as only one of my informants actually participated in Black
Book-based spirituality. The practices he was privy to were mostly social:
initiation practices (remembering one’s true name and path; swearing to
keep to a path in this life) and a ritual of marriage.34 Some people around him
would also use magical practices for things such as self-healing or, again,
finding memories, but he was never involved in these. Later, he became
involved a group where the group leader would channel an important figure
(one of the Nazgul, who received biographies in the Black Book of Arda and
also became popular discourse figures) in the Black Book of Arda and use
its importance and “superior wisdom” to police him. The group leader also
had other sub-personalities (other group members had their own, personal
channeled guides), but while my informant had interacted with them, it was
less common. The leader also briefly offered to teach him magical practices
through an ascetic regimen that would involve restrictions placed on his
lifestyle, but the offer was fairly quickly forgotten.
As can be seen in the previous two sections, communication practices
in the post-Soviet Tolkien milieu only rarely address “divine” figures directly.
33
Natalia Nekrasova and Natalia Vasilyeva, “Iznachalnye: Obreteniye Imeni”
[Primordials: Discovering the Name”] Černaja Kniga Ardy. Accessed on June 25, 2016.
Online edition: http://www.elhe.ru/ta/ta1.html#makename
34
O., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. April 28, 2016. Audio record. Informal
marriage rituals were fairly common among post-Soviet countercultures. These usually did
not last long, but there are exceptions.
208 Kateryna Zorya
In most cases, communication happens with other mortals, albeit powerful

ones – that is, elves, or in the case of the Gnostic counternarrative, Nazgul –
and is used largely as a substitute for an in-group that serves to affirm one’s
ethics in an unstable world. In situations where such communication was
the privilege of group leaders, it was also used to solidify the leaders’ power
over the group by dictating its behavior from a position of authority.
Gender
The Tolkien spirituality movement in the FSU boasts a relatively high
number of members with unusual gender identities. This is showcased in
my study, where I did not select specifically for gender identity, but rather
for as diverse a set of religious views as possible. Nonetheless, out of nine
informants, six are biologically female, four of these identify as female
and two identify as genderqueer, two are transgender males in various
stages of transitioning, and one is biologically male and identifies as male.
Even this small sample showcases two important points: particularly, that
more women participate in the Tolkien spirituality movement than men,
and that the role-playing subculture became a safe space for genderqueer
individuals and transgender men, where they experiment with their gender
identity and passing in an accepting environment.35
This is not to say that the wider milieu did not partake of the rampant
misogyny and transphobia present in post-Soviet territory; however, in
comparison to the outside world, the role-playing subculture was a far
safer space, with a greater range of accepted identities. There was a marked
opposition between a member’s “civil” (everyday, regular) identity and their
“real” identity. However one had to present oneself to the world at large
did not matter; what did matter was how someone presented themselves
to the in-group. This extended into a form of etiquette most commonly
formulated as “whatever someone says they are – believe them.” This
included both fantastical beings, such as dragons, elves, angels and demons
(thus creating a safe space for unusual religious beliefs) and, for many
women, the freedom to be a man, at least socially if not physically. This
freedom applied to both transgender men and women who were frustrated
at the gender roles imposed on them by post-Soviet society and who found
35
As L. put it: “There were always like 3,5 biological males, but there were tons and
tons of nistano” (L., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. May 2, 2016. Audio record). An
informant has also said that they are aware of one case of a male-to-female transgender
individual who has not chosen to transition due to having a family to raise, but I have
personally neither met nor heard of any other such individuals. (D., Skype interview by
Kateryna Zorya. May 6, 2016. Audio record).
temporary freedom by playing men. In the context of this article, however,

it is arguably the most important that there was a subgroup for whom
passing as a man was an expression of their religious experiences – that is,
their memory that they were a man in a past life and that they would make
a better man in this life as well. This subgroup became common enough
that a special term eventually appeared: nistano (pl. nistanor).
Nistano literally means “someone who is born a man,” and is used to
denote someone who is biologically female, but who had a past life as a man
in Tolkien’s world, with possible repercussions for their current life. There
are notably many transgender nistano, though certainly not all of them are,
and only a portion of transgender nistano underwent physical transitions.
Most were satisfied with being treated as a man by their in-group and
with the ability to present as one in a larger milieu. This presentation was
often highly romantic, based largely upon courtly behavior as described
in scholarly books about the Middle Ages, a staple read for those who
were interested in historic reenactment and role-playing. Being a man
would be linked to notions of chivalry, loyalty, and fidelity – qualities that
many found it difficult if not impossible to cultivate while presenting as
women, as the same romantic ideals would foster different ideals for them.
According to M., some communities forced a choice: “Either you are a Noldo
warrior or you have a husband and children.”36 In some groups, romantic
but non-sexual relationships would be encouraged with other women, the
nistano often playing the Knight to the cis-gendered Lady. In some cases,
relationships would also form between two nistano, which meant that two
biological women would present as gay men.
For the nistano themselves, their memories play an important part in
their self-identification, and the resulting attempts to pass as men in the
role-playing community were a step towards accepting that they were in
fact transgender men. As one of my transgender informants, D., put it, “the
role-playing community was like a kindergarten. I’d played men before
coming out to my boss.”37 Contrary to my expectations – I had hypothesized
that memories of a past life would be a great source of support during the
physical transition itself – both of my transgender informants also noted
that during their transition they had little time or energy to think about
spiritual matters. These memories mattered before they took concrete
physical steps, faded into the background as they underwent the transition
process, and then returned as a part of their new self-narrative.
I interviewed three cis-gendered quen, two of whom were women
with female quentas, and one was a man with a male quenta. For practical
36
37
D., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. May 6, 2016. Audio record.
210 Kateryna Zorya
reasons during the interviews, the matter of nistano was only discussed
with the women. E., my esotericist informant, believed that becoming a
nistano meant literally regressing to a former life and refusing to learn the
lesson one had come to Earth for, leading to a wasted lifetime from the
point of view of spiritual evolution.38 Another informant, R., said that she
has nistano friends and “something simply went wrong for them, and they
were born the wrong gender.”39
The genderfluid informants were quite a different story. One of them,
L., had a female quenta, and for her it was a matter of some pride, as male
quentas were far more common in her social circle. However, at the same
time and her group it used to be of prime importance that they were “human
beings, not women. [...] We emphasized: ‘They are not my ‘girl friends’
— they are my friends, it’s something completely different.’” Nistano were
easily accepted by L.’s group, because there was nothing complicated about
them: their very existence supported the “we are all human beings first”
view. In time, L., began to recognize this pattern of behavior as internalized
misoginy, and from then on took particular steps to identify herself as a
gender-nonconformative female.40 Another, Q. went through a very long
period of soul-searching before finally identifying as bigender. Concerning
nistano, Q. believes that many transgender people are stuck in the role-
playing movement, where they are accepted as men, instead of getting
gender reassignment surgery and living as men full-time. Instead, they take
solace in the fact that they were men in a past life, and those who remember
them as men treat them as such, if within a very narrow social circle.41
In all of the cases described above, an important aspect of the
movement’s spirituality has no basis at all in Tolkien’s texts themselves.
Tolkien had no transgender characters and his depictions of gender roles were
quite traditional. However, due to a combination of social circumstances,
the Tolkien fandom and, more narrowly, the Tolkien spirituality movement
became a space for reflection upon gender roles. The nistano phenomenon
exists in the post-Soviet spirituality movement but is entirely absent in the
Anglophone movement, and I believe that this shows very well how social
circumstances will define religious beliefs – in this case, the very prevalence
of the belief that one lived one’s past life, if not this life, as a man.
38
39
R., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. April 22, 2016. Audio record.
40
41
Conclusion
The Tolkien spirituality milieu, in both of its existing incarnations, is a
unique phenomenon: it is a fiction-based religion, based on the same
fictional texts, which developed in highly different forms in different social
environments. I have attempted to illustrate that the Anglophone and
post-Soviet milieus’ respective development did not hinge on the religious
affordances of the source texts, but rather on the general environment,
religious and social. While the core belief of the Anglophone milieu and the
post-Soviet milieu remains the same – that Arda is real and the characters
who live in it were also real – the manifestations of this belief were very
different. The Anglophone Tolkien milieu largely draws its inspiration
from neo-Paganism and is full of meditations, practices and rituals calling
upon the Valar. The post-Soviet Tolkien milieu stemmed from a secular
subculture and developed in the characteristic post-Soviet melting pot of
Christianity, esotericism, and atheism – and centers around memories of
past lives and ethical matters. The stigma against direct religious experience
in the secular role-playing milieu led to an extremely private and personal
practice, in contrast to the more relaxed Anglophone milieu. Finally, the
starkly misogynistic and homophobic post-Soviet discourse led to the
role-playing subculture, and the Tolkien spirituality milieu as something
directly derived from it, to become the stage for explorations of gender and
sexuality.
I hereby put forth a tentative hypothesis that the most important
religious affordance that enables fictional texts to be perceived as religious
is neither their fantastical nor their religious elements, but the ability to
easily and seamlessly interface with existing religions. While I agree with
Davidsen’s hypothesis that fiction-based religions only draw upon existing
ones to fill in gaps allowed by the narrative, I would propose that what
is perceived as a gap in the fictional narrative is largely predetermined by
the practitioner’s religious background. The neo-Pagan practitioner of
Tolkien spirituality will focus on the gods/angels of Tolkien’s narrative
and draw upon their experience to build a relationship with them. A
practitioner immersed in the Christian narrative borrows the notion of
religious authorities as ethical authorities, and calls upon equally mortal,
but more advanced, peers for personal guidance. Esotericism provides an
intermediary in both cases, with practices being borrowed to counter a
deficit of control in the practitioners’ daily life.
212 Kateryna Zorya
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O., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. April 28, 2016. Audio record.
K., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. November 25, 2016. Audio record.
R., Skype interview by Kateryna Zorya. April 22, 2016. Audio record.
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1977. Reproduced online at: http://www.ae-lib.org.ua/texts-c/tolkien__the_
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Davidsen, Markus Altena. The Spiritual Tolkien Milieu: A Study of Fiction-Based
Religion. 2014. PhD dissertation manuscript: https://www.academia.
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141.322:29(437.1+437.3)
Massimo Introvigne
CESNUR (Center for Studies on New Religions), Torino
Artists and Theosophy in Present-Day Czech

Republic and Slovakia
Mucha, Kupka, and Theosophy

In the summer of 2015, at the Prague City Gallery I saw an important
exhibition of Jean Delville (1867–1953), the Belgian painter who was the
leader of the Theosophical Society in his country between 1909 and 1913.
Just outside the Gallery, in the Old Town Square, I was able to admire the
famous Memorial of the Czech reformer Jan Hus (1371–1415), sculpted
between 1901 and 1915 by Ladislav Jan Šaloun (1870–1946), himself an
artist with significant esoteric interests. Šaloun, in fact, organized with
other artists “notoriously known [spiritualist] séances” in his studio, whose
walls were “painted with deep red from ox blood.” From Prague, I took a
train to Olomouc, Moravia, where in the same summer of 2015 the Museum
of Modern Art hosted the exhibition Ænigma: 100 Years of Anthroposophical
Art, devoted to the artists who belonged to the Anthroposophical Society. A
surprisingly high number of them were Czech.
The Theosophical Lodge of Prague was founded in 1891 and
started publishing the journal Lotus in 1897. Among the first members
was the Austrian novelist Gustav Meyrink (1868–1932). Prague was also
home to several independent para-Theosophical societies, including
Ibingůvmystickýkruh (Ibing’s Mystic Circle), which included several
* maxintrovigne@gmail.com

See the catalogue: Jean Delville, 1867–1953 (Prague: City Gallery, and Namur,
Belgium: Musée Félicien Rops, 2015). On Delville and Theosophy, see Massimo Introvigne,
“Zöllner’s Knot: Theosophy, Jean Delville (1867–1953), and the Fourth Dimension,”
Theosophical History 17:3 (July 2014): 84–118.

Josef Dvorák, Visions, Prophecies, Madnesses: The Textual and Pictorial Approaches of
William Blake and Josef Váchal (M.A. Thesis, University of Pardubice, 2007), 31.

See the catalogue: Reinhold J. Fäthand and David Voda, ed., Ænigma: One Hundred
Years of Anthroposophical Art (Prague:Arbor Vitae,and Olomouc: Museum umění Olomouc,
2015).
216 Massimo Introvigne
painters. Two of them, Rudolf Adámek (1882–1953) and Bohumil Hradečný

(1876–1960), later became founding members of Universalia, an important
Czech esoteric society started in 1920 and legally incorporated in 1930.
Alfons Mucha (1860–1939), one of the most popular Czech modern
painters, was also interested in spiritualism and Theosophy. In 1898, he
became a Freemason in Paris and in 1923 he was elected Grand Master of
Czech Freemasonry. Mucha’s Theosophical interests appear particularly
in his luxury edition of the Lord’s Prayer (LePater, 1899). Mucha’s
illustrations for the Lord’s Prayer show the (Theosophical) ascension of
human beings striving to return to the light. Mucha’s esoteric interests also
appear in his huge canvases of the Slav Epic, painted between 1911 and
1926, where the Slavs are portrayed as a people more spiritually developed
than others. A summary of Mucha’s esoteric ideas is in his final work, the
unfinished triptych including The Age of Reason, The Age of Wisdom and The
Age of Love (1936–1938). Reason and love, the triptych shows, can only be
united through wisdom.
The most distinguished modern Czech painter was František Kupka
(1871–1957), a pioneer of abstract art. He moved from Prague to Vienna,
then settled in Paris. “Spiritualism was responsible for Kupka’s lifelong
involvement with the occult.” As a young man, he supplemented his income
by acting as a medium, and “never ceased to practise spiritism, except,
probably, during long periods of illness and in very old age.” “Kupka’ stay
in Vienna introduced him to Theosophy” through his association with Karl
Wilhelm Diefenbach (1851–1913), the bizarre Theosophical prophet whose
commune, Himmelhof, was a model for the famous Swiss settlement in
Monte Verità. Kupka’s The Soul of the Lotus (1898) reveals the painter’s
interest in Buddhism. But he related to Buddhism – and Hinduism – through
the lenses of the Theosophical literature he was reading at that time in
Paris. In The Beginning of Life (1900), Kupka continued his exploration of
creation. Reminiscences of Buddhist imagery are obvious, but Kupka also

See Petr Kalač, “A Brief History of the Czech Esoteric Scene from the Late 19th
Century to 1989,” Dokumentační centrum českého hermetismu, accessed July 21, 2016,
http://dcch.grimoar.cz/?Loc=onas&Lng=2.

Mucha Foundation, “Alphonse Mucha: Art Nouveau & Utopia,” accessed July
21, 2016, http://www.muchafoundation.org/exhibitions/past-exhibitions/year/2011/
exhibition/alphonse-mucha-art-nouveau-utopia.

Alphonse Mucha, Le Pater (Paris: Champenoisand Piazza & C.ie, 1899).

Meda Mládek, “Central European Influences on the Work of František Kupka,” in
František Kupka: From the Jan and Meda Mládek Collection, ed.Meda Mládek and Jan Sekera
(Prague: Museum Kampa and The Jan and Meda Mládek Foundation, 1996), 38.

Chelsea Ann Jones, The Role of Buddhism, Theosophy, and Science in František Kupka’s
Search for the Immaterial through 1909(M.A. Thesis, University of Texas at Austin, 2012), 26.

Jones, The Role of Buddhism, 23–52.
Artists and Theosophy in Present-Day Czech Republic and Slovakia 217
made “a [Theosophical] direct correlation between the form of the circle

and creation.”10
Chelsea Jones’ thesis argues that Kupka probably read The Great
Initiates (1889) by Theosophist Édouard Schuré (1841–1929).11 Schuré’s
book was extremely influential on several artists, and echoes may be seen
in Kupka’s The Way of Silence (1903). From his early Symbolist works,
Kupka went on to Orphic cubism and became one the founders of modern
abstract art. Works like Amorpha (1912) insists on the correlation between
circles, ovals, spirals and the creation of life, a theme also discussed in
Kupka’s theoretical work12 and not foreign to Theosophy. In fact, “Kupka
quoted from Blavatsky’s The Secret Doctrine on page 3 of his unpublished
notebook.”13
Theosophy and Homoeroticism in Slovakia: László

Mednyánszky
In the meantime, in Slovakia, Ladislav Medňanský, better known under his
Hungarian name László Mednyánszky (1852–1919), became the leading
national painter, although both Slovakia and Hungary claim him as their
own. In his art, impressionism meets symbolism. Born in Beckov, Slovakia,
in 1852 in the castle of his aristocratic family, Mednyánszky was educated
as an academic artist in Munich and Paris, and lived in Budapest and
Vienna, where he died in 1919.14 Mednyánszky was a Hungarian patriot
(as evidenced by his quintessentially patriotic gravestone in the Kerepesi
cemetery in Budapest) and at age 62 volunteered as a war painter in World
War I. He saw Pan-Slavism as a great danger for both Hungarian identity
and regional stability. He conceived the idea of a secret society to fight
Pan-Slavism,15 although later he came to believe that the best protections
against political extremism were education and the arts.16
Mednyánszky’s circle was interested in Theosophical ideas and
included his brother-in-law István Czóbel (1847–1932), who wrote in German
10
Jones, The Role of Buddhism, 17.
11
12
See František Kupka, La Création dans les arts plastiques, trans. Erika Abrams (Paris:
Éditions Cercle d’Art, 1989), 169–170.
13
14
On Mednyánszky and esotericism, see Martin C. Putna, “László Mednyánszky
– Tvůrčí osobnost na přelomu století a na průsečíku menšinových a elitních identit” [László
Mednyánszky – A creative personality at the turn of the century and on the crossroads of
minority and elite identities], Lidéměsta / Urban People 16:1 (2014): 3–22.
15
Putna, “László Mednyánszky,” 6.
16
about Theosophy.17 Mednyánszky’s journals quote Madame Blavatsky

(1831–1891), Annie Besant (1847–1933), and German Theosophist Franz
Hartmann (1838–1912), and show that he was interested in Theosophical
doctrines about the spiritual meaning of colors.18
During the final crisis of the Austrian Empire, Slovakian-Hungarian
aristocrats such as Mednyánszky often believed that “going to the people”
was the only way to revive a moribund aristocracy. Some married peasant
girls. Mednyánszky “went to the people” in a homoerotic way, entering into
multiple relationships with young men of modest condition.19 Mednyánszky
had several homosexual relationships but idealized the one with Bálint
Kurdi (1860–1906), a Danube boatman from Vác, Hungary. He called him
Nyuli (Rabbit) and after his death believed he was a divine incarnation and
built a personal and private cult around his grave in Vác.20
Mednyánszky could have joined the homosexual circles that fought
for some sort of social acknowledgement in Germany and Austria21 – but
he didn’t.22 He was familiar with medical writings on homosexuality, but
tried to interpret it in a spiritual, private way through Theosophical lenses.
He explained his own homosexuality through karma and reincarnation
and believed he could “spiritualize” it by transforming erotic energy into
spiritual energy.23
Theosophy, Humor, and Satanism: Josef Váchal

Josef Váchal (1884–1969)24 was the illegitimate son of sportsman Josef
Aleš-Lyžec (1862–1927), one of the pioneers of modern skiing. His father
introduced Váchal to Theosophy and he joined the Theosophical Society at
age 19 in 1903. Born in Milavče, in the region of Pilsen, Váchal was raised
by his grandparents in Písek. His father, however, decided to support his
study of bookbinding in Prague and put him in touch with his cousin, the
celebrated academic painter Mikoláš Aleš (1852–1913). Váchal emerged as
17
18
Putna, “László Mednyánszky,”12.
19
Putna, “László Mednyánszky,”10.
20
Putna, “László Mednyánszky,”14–19.
21
Robert Beachy, Gay Berlin: Birthplace of a Modern Identity (New York: Alfred A.
Knopf, 2015).
22
23
Putna, “László Mednyánszky,” 12–13.
24
For this information on Váchal’s biography, relationship to Theosophy, and occult
interests, see Marie Rakušanová, Josef Váchal. Magie hledání [Josef Váchal: The magic search]
(Prague and Litomyšl: Paseka, 2014). See also Xavier Galmiche ed., Facétie et illumination.
L’oeuvre de Josef Váchal, un graveur écrivain de Bohème (1884–1969) (Paris: Presses de
l’Université Paris-Sorbonne and Prague: Paseka, 1999).
a talented young artist, more interested in German Expressionism than in

Aleš’ academic style.
Váchal participated in the gatherings in Prague in the studio of
Theosophist and sculptor Ladislav Jan Šaloun. Because of his participation
in Šaloun’s occult experiments, Váchal started experiencing “nocturnal
sightings and hearings of beings with misty bodies” and feelings of horrible
fear. As he later reported, only “when I began to occupy myself with
spiritualism and even with the devil, my fear ceased.”25 Váchal kept attending
spiritualist séances for years, and the theme never really disappeared from
his work.
Beyond spiritualism, the Prague Theosophical Lodge introduced
Váchal to a larger tradition of Western and Eastern esotericism. In his
1913 book Mystics and Visionaries, he paid homage to the leading figures
of Western esotericism, including Jakob Böhme (1575–1624).26 For
seventeen years, from 1903 to 1920, Váchal annotated the Czech edition of
Blavatsky’s book Foundation of Indian Mysticism (1898) with comments and
fantastic drawings, also evidencing his demonological interests.27 Váchal’s
reading of the Kabbalah, a recurring theme in his art, was also influenced
by Blavatsky.
In 1912, as several other artists did in these years, Váchal produced
his own set of divination cards, a variation of the Tarot. Váchal was also
in touch with the leading exponent of Czech symbolism, František Bilek
(1872–1941). Primarily a sculptor (and famous for his Monument to
Comenius, 1926), Bilek was not a member of the Theosophical Society but
was familiar with its literature.28 Together with Jan Konupek (1883–1950)
and others, Váchal founded in Prague in 1910 the Sursum group, devoted
to spiritual and occult art and often referred to as the second wave of Czech
Symbolism.
Váchal was also influenced by Polish novelist Stanisław Przybyszewski
(1868–1927), regarded by Per Faxneld as the author who “formulated
what is likely the first attempt ever to construct a more or less systematic
25
Otto M. Urban, “Gossamer Nerves: Symbolism and the Pre-War Avant-Garde,” in
Mysterious Distances: Symbolism and Art in the Bohemian Lands, ed. Otto M. Urban (Prague: Arbor
Vitae and National Gallery of Prague, and Olomouc: Olomouc Museum of Art, 2014), 255.
26
Josef Váchal, Mystikové a visionáři [Mystics and visionaries] (Prague: M. Váchalová,
1913).
27
For the influence on Váchal of earlier literary Satanism, see Massimo Introvigne,
Satanism: A Social History (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 232–234.
28
See Frantisek Bilek (1872–1941). Musée Bourdelle, 7 novembre 2002 – 2 février 2003
(Paris: Paris-Musées, 2002).
Satanism.”29 Satanic themes are a constant in Váchal’s work, although

serious esoteric allusions often co-exist with the artist’s signature humor.
Disturbing satanic, as well as Theosophical and Christian, images were
painted by Váchal between 1920 and 1924 in the extraordinary murals
in the home of collector Josef Portman (1893–1968), in the Czech city of
Litomyšl, where he worked while he was writing his Blood Novel, a book
including allusions to the home.30 The Portmoneum is reminiscent of
Aleister Crowley’s (1875–1947) Abbey of Thelema in Cefalù, Sicily, but
luckily, unlike the Sicilian residence of the British magus, it has been saved
from the disrepair into which it felt in Communist times and reopened as a
museum in 1993.31
Visiting the Portmoneum, as I did in the spring of 2016, is like entering
a fairy tale, but demons as well as angels lurk in the shadow and there is no
guarantee of a happy ending. By the time he decorated the Portmoneum,
Váchal had become critical of certain secret societies, and one of the
murals alludes to the dangers and shortcomings of some of them. Facing
the previous mural, another image celebrates the Theosophical unity of all
great religions, a pacifying theme overcoming the dangers of the occult.
In 1926, Váchal self-published only 17 copies of a richly illustrated
edition of Hymn to Satan, by the Italian poet Giosuè Carducci (1835–1907).32
The poem was in fact a hymn to rationalism, but Váchal interpreted
Carducci’s Satan through the lenses of Blavatsky’s comments on Lucifer.
The book is currently a collector’s item, commanding high prices in
international auctions.
Váchal also experimented with sculpture but was mostly famous for
his prints and ex libris woodcuts. During the Communist years, he lived in
obscurity and was isolated by the regime, although after the Prague Spring
of 1968 he received the medal of “Meritorious Artist” shortly before his
death in 1969. He has been somewhat rediscovered in the present-day
Czech Republic.
29
Per Faxneld, “Witches, Anarchism, and Evolution: Stanislaw Przybyszewski’s Fin-
de-Siècle Satanism and the Demonic Feminine,” in The Devil’s Party: Satanism in Modernity,
ed. Per Faxneld and Jesper Aagaard Petersen (Oxford and New York: Oxford University
Press, 2013), 74.
30
J. Váchal, Krvavý roman: Studie kulturně a literárně historická [Blood novel: A study
of cultural and literary history] (Prague: M. Váchalová, 1924). In 1993, Jaroslav Brabec
directed a movie with the same title, derived from Váchal’s novel.
31
See Jirí Kaše et al., Portmoneum: Josef Váchal Museum in Litomyšl (Prague and
Litomyšl: Paseka, 2003).
32
Giosuè Carducci, Satanu. Basen [Hymn to Satan], trans. Josef Váchal (Prague: Josef
Váchal, 1926).
From Theosophy to Anthroposophy, and Beyond

Another Czech artist who joined the Theosophical Society was Richard
Pollak-Karlin (1867–1942). He joined the Society in Vienna in 1906,
together with his wife Hilde Pollak-Kotányi (1874–1942). Hilde was also an
artist, who eventually became famous for her esoteric embroideries. Both
Richard and Hilde later joined Anthroposophy, worked at the Goetheanum,
and were arrested and killed in Nazi concentration camps.33
Although this article focuses on Theosophy, it is worth mentioning
that several Czech artists joined the Anthroposophical Society, who had
been particularly successful in Bohemia, both before and after World War II.
They included Richard Teschner (1879–1948), Anton Josef Trčka (“Antios,”
1893–1940), Josef Prinke (1891–1945), Rudolf Michalik (1901–1993),
Bogdan Cerovac (1904–1969), Paula Rackwitz-Bulířová (1907–1948), Josef
Přikryl (1885–1973), the sculptor Bohumil Josef Jerie (1904–1998), Rudolf
Milde (1930–1985), Otakar Hudeček (1924–2007), and Michaela Terčová
(1943–).34
Coming back to Theosophy, we should finally mention the
internationally acclaimed Czech photographer, František Drtikol (1883–1961),
a member of the Theosophical Society and later a Buddhist. In 1935, he
gave up photography in order to devote himself exclusively to painting and
spirituality. During World War II, his home at Spořilov became a center of
spiritual training.35
Drtikol’s activities should be seen within the larger context of the
Czech Yoga movement, where controversies existed between followers and
opponents of British Theosophist and neo-Hindu teacher Paul Brunton
(1898–1981), who visited Prague twice in 1937 and 1947. Drtikol interpreted
the Advaita Vedanta of Ramana Maharshi (1879–1950), Brunton’s master,
through the lenses of Mahayana Buddhism, and regarded Buddhism as a
form of esoteric atheism compatible with Communism. Drtikol remained a
crucial figure for the rich tradition of “Czechoslovak Yoga-Vedanta.”36
As it happened in other countries, Theosophy was a significant
influence on Czech modern art, including such luminaries as Kupka and
33
Voda, “Anthroposophical Art from Prague, Bohemia (Terezin) and Moravia
(Vienna),” in Ænigma, ed. Fäth and Voda, 256–259.
34
Short sections on all these artists are included in Fäth and Voda, ed., Ænigma.
35
See his spiritual autobiography: František Drtikol, Duchovní cesta [Spiritual
Journey], ed. Stanislav Doleţal, 2 vols. (Prague: Nakladatelství Svět, 2005 and 2008).
36
Milan Fujda, “Acculturation of Hinduism and the Czech Traditions of Yoga: From
Freedom to Totality and Back Again,” in Spaces and Borders: Current Research on Religion in
Central and Eastern Europe, ed. András Máté-Tóth and Cosima Rughiniş (Berlin and Boston:
Walter de Gruyter, 2011), 86–93.
Mucha. Mednyánszky in Slovakia and Váchal in Bohemia offered an

idiosyncratic but powerful interpretation of Theosophical themes in their
art. As was the case elsewhere, the area did not have a single, coherent
“Theosophical art,” but the influence of Theosophy was felt in various
different currents and trends.
References
Beachy, Robert. Gay Berlin: Birthplace of a Modern Identity. New York: Alfred A.
Knopf, 2015.
Carducci, Giosuè. Satanu. Basen, trans. Josef Váchal. Prague: Josef Váchal, 1926.
Drtikol, František. Duchovní cesta, ed. Stanislav Doleţal. 2 vols. Prague: Nakladatelství
Svět, 2005 and 2008.
Dvorák, Josef. Visions, Prophecies, Madnesses: The Textual and Pictorial Approaches of
William Blake and Josef Váchal. M.A. Thesis, University of Pardubice, 2007.
Fäth, Reinhold J., and David Voda, eds. Ænigma: One Hundred Years of
Anthroposophical Art. Prague: Arbor Vitae, and Olomouc: Museum umění
Olomouc, 2015.
Faxneld, Per. “Witches, Anarchism, and Evolution: Stanislaw Przybyszewski’s
Fin-de-Siècle Satanism and the Demonic Feminine.” In The Devil’s Party:
Satanism in Modernity, ed. Per Faxneld and Jesper Aagaard Petersen, 53–77.
Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2013.
Frantisek Bilek (1872–1941). Musée Bourdelle, 7 novembre 2002 – 2 février 2003.
Paris: Paris-Musées, 2002.
Fujda, Milan. “Acculturation of Hinduism and the Czech Traditions of Yoga: From
Freedom to Totality and Back Again.” In Spaces and Borders: Current Research
on Religion in Central and Eastern Europe, ed. András Máté-Tóth and Cosima
Rughiniş, 81–101. Berlin and Boston: Walter de Gruyter, 2011.
Galmiche, Xavier, ed. Facétie et illumination. L’oeuvre de Josef Váchal, un graveur
écrivain de Bohème (1884–1969). Paris: Presses de l’Université Paris-
Sorbonne and Prague: Paseka, 1999.
Introvigne, Massimo. “Zöllner’s Knot: Theosophy, Jean Delville (1867–1953), and
the Fourth Dimension.” Theosophical History 17:3 (July 2014): 84–118.
Introvigne, Massimo. Satanism: A Social History. Leiden: Brill, 2016.
Jean Delville, 1867–1953. Prague: City Gallery, and Namur, Belgium: Musée Félicien
Rops, 2015.
Jones, Chelsea Ann. The Role of Buddhism, Theosophy, and Science in František
Kupka’s Search for the Immaterial through 1909. M.A. Thesis, University of
Texas at Austin, 2012.
Kalač, Petr. “A Brief History of the Czech Esoteric Scene from the Late 19th Century
to 1989.” Dokumentační centrum českého hermetismu, accessed July 21,
2016. http://dcch.grimoar.cz/?Loc=onas&Lng=2.
Kaše, Jiríet al. Portmoneum: Josef Váchal Museum in Litomyšl. Prague and Litomyšl:
Paseka, 2003.
Kupka, František. La Création dans les arts plastiques, trans. Erika Abrams. Paris:
Éditions Cercle d’Art, 1989.
Mládek, Meda. “Central European Influences on the Work of František Kupka.” In
František Kupka: From the Jan and Meda Mládek Collection, edited by Meda
Mládek and Jan Sekera, 17–48. Prague: Museum Kampa and The Jan and
Meda Mládek Foundation, 1996.
Mucha, Alphonse. Le Pater. Paris: Champenois and Piazza & C.ie, 1899.
Mucha Foundation. “Alphonse Mucha: Art Nouveau & Utopia.” Mucha Foundation,
accessed July 21, 2016. http://www.muchafoundation.org/exhibitions/past-
exhibitions/year/2011/exhibition/alphonse-mucha-art-nouveau-utopia.
Putna, Martin C. “László Mednyánszky – Tvůrčí osobnost na přelomu století a na
průsečíku menšinových a elitních identit”. Lidéměsta / Urban People 16:1
(2014): 3–22.
Rakušanová, Marie. Josef Váchal. Magie hledání. Prague and Litomyšl: Paseka, 2014.
Urban, Otto M. “Gossamer Nerves: Symbolism and the Pre-War Avant-Garde.” In
Mysterious Distances: Symbolism and Art in the Bohemian Lands, ed. Otto M.
Urban, 249–257. Prague: Arbor Vitae and National Gallery of Prague, and
Olomouc: Olomouc Museum of Art, 2014.
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Váchal, Josef. Krvavý roman: Studie kulturně a literárně historická. Prague: M. Váchalová,
1924.
141.322:271.222(495)
Spyros Petritakis
University of Crete, Ph.D. candidate
“Throughout the Dark, the Light”: Mapping Out

the Networks of Theosophists in Pre- and
Interwar Athens through Specific Case Studies
from Nikolaos Gyzis to Frixos Aristeas
In March 1898, when Joséphin Péladan (1858–1918) paid a short visit

to Athens, one year after the sixth and last exhibition of the Salon de la
Rose-Croix in order to deliver a series of lectures in the Philological
Association Παρνασσός [Parnassus], he voiced to the Athenians a striking
aphoristic remark: “vous êtes intelligents mais point mystiques!” This oral
statement, published after the hearing of Péladan’s death, immediately
caused bafflement and great embitterment to the Greek advocates of his
philosophical writings. Could it be that the French novelist and occultist
sensed that the Greek men of letters were all too intellectual to grasp the
mystical meanings of his teachings, a process that demands more of an
inner effort of conscious changing, or could it be, to put it plainly, that the
“Chaldean Priest” sensed that the local market was rather indifferent to his
ideas? Taking into account that the Greek intellectual milieu constituted
a specific case with its own modalities, aesthetic values and ideological
aspirations, one may assume that this incident demonstrates vividly and
briefly how convoluted the issue on the reception of theosophical and related
ideas in Greece appears to be. In my paper I will adumbrate certain aspects
of this dynamic interaction between Greek artists and theosophical ideas in
a period that extends from the late 19th century to the early 1920s.
The reception of theosophical and related ideas in Greece has always
been entangled with contrasting narratives expressed in the public space,
such as the traditional and the modern, the western and the eastern, the
* spyros.petritakis@gmail.com

“You are intelligent but not mystics.” For a comprehensive and richly documented
study on the reception of Symbolist and Neo-Romantic trends in Greece, see Evgenios D.
Matthiopoulos, Art Springs Wings in Sorrow: the Reception of Neo-Romanticism in the Realm of
Ideology, Art Theory and Art Criticism in Greece (in Greek, Athens: Potamos Publishers, 2005),
245. On Péladan, see pages 237–246.
226 Spyros Petritakis
cosmopolitan and the parochial. In all their colorful varieties, theosophical

ideas bloomed at a time when the Ottoman Empire has been collapsing
leaving the space free for the development and formation of new identities.
Moreover, the emergence of a more spiritual understanding of cultural
phenomena by certain intellectual circles coincided with the reception
of symbolist and modern tendencies in the artistic field and therefore it
was entangled in the conflicts between European oriented art and a more
quintessentially Greek.
From the end of 19th century onwards, heterodox religious trends,
such as Theosophy, Buddhism, Neo-Druidism, have exhibited in Greece
a momentum that culminated in the pre-Balkan Wars period. In order
to understand the transformation of the symbolist-theosophist trends in
Greece, one has to take into consideration the particular political conditions
and causalities under which the Greek state emerged and flourished over
the course of the 20th century. The Balkan Wars of 1912–1913, the Great
War of 1914–1918, the Greek catastrophe in Asia Minor in 1920–1922, all
of these offer the canvas onto which the multifarious cultural movements
manifested themselves and were shaped to a great extent. Two dates
are important that coincide with the emergence of the symbolist trends
in Greece: The 10th of December 1893, when Prime Minister Charilaos
Trikoupis (1832–1896) announced at the Greek Parliament the bankruptcy
of the State, and some years later, on the 18th April 1897, when the Greco-
Turkish War was fought between the Kingdom of Greece and the Ottoman
Empire, after which Greece was forced to cede minor border areas and pay
heavy reparations. Thus, at the turn of the century, the country was bogged
down in the quagmire of economical suffocation and political stalemate, a
picture that is often reflected on the contemporary literature. Under this
constellation, a dynamic group of scholars, literates, poets and critics, prone
to symbolist and occult tendencies, was formed in Athens around the poet
Kostis Palamas (1859–1943). Among them were Kostantinos Chatzopoulos
(1868–1920), Pavlos Nirvanas (1866–1937), Ioannis Gryparis (1870–1942),
Nikolaos Episkopopoulos (1874–1944), Yannis Kambysis (1872–1901)
and others. Theosophical, decadent, occult and Buddhist discourses,
mingled in the same pot with Socialist, Marxist and other reformative
ideas, were disseminated in the intellectual milieu of Athens, especially

On this subject, see the marvelous study: Maria Todorova, ed., Balkan Identities:
Nation and Memory (New York: New York University Press, 2004).

For this matter, see Antonis Danos, “Idealist ‘Grand Visions,’ from Nikolaos Gyzis
to Konstantinos Parthenis: The Unacknowledged Symbolist Roots of Greek Modernism,” in
The Symbolist Roots of Modern Art, ed. Michelle Facos and Thor J. Mednick (Surrey, England
and Burlington, Vermont: Ashgate, 2015), 11–22.

More on these literate figures in Matthiopoulos, Art Springs Wings in Sorrow, 34–105.
“Throughout the Dark, the Light” 227
around the circle of Georgios Souris. Their interests included many forms
of “Πνευματομανία” [fascination for spirits] as they called the new trend
of conjuring up the spirits from Hades. Some common practices included
suggestion, telepathy, somnambulism and mesmerism. With the spiritual
technique of autosuggestion some poets went so far as to publish poems in
the journal Asty that were dictated to them by the spirits of Hugo, Sappho,
Goethe and Buddha, astoundingly though in the Modern Greek language.
Some decades later, the novelist and playwright Polyvios Dimitrakopoulos
(1864–1922), friend of the painter Frixos Aristeas (1879–1951), published
his poem collection Ο Υπερκόσμιος Παρνασσός (1926) [The unearthly
Parnassus] under a trance mode [μεσαζικώς], every poem being dictated by
a demised Greek poet. In his introduction Dimitrakopoulos contended that
inspiration is a kind of imprint that spirits leave on the soul of the sensitive
artist while they counteract with it.
Another characteristic of the turn of the century was the existence
of a Diaspora outside Greece, which was well organised and wealthy. It
was residing in the Ottoman Empire, in the Balkans, as well as across
the Mediterranean Sea and Central Europe. Despite the decline of its
burgeoning economic power in the late 1850s, this “mobilized Diaspora”
kept influencing indirectly or directly the political processes in Greece.
They donated and subsidized not only cultural institutions, artistic journals,
but also provided means to artists to travel abroad. Thus, the anticipation
and engagement in favour of symbolist trends found a fruitful ground in
its bosom, further fuelling with innovative ideas the Greek intellectuals.
Finally, young artists, stemming from cosmopolitan milieux, sought their
artistic education at the metropolitan centres of Central Europe, initially
Munich, Vienna and later Paris, and thus were ready to grapple with the
symbolist trends that occupied their European colleagues.
It is, thus, justifiable that the first sparkles of a spiritual ebullience
came from artists that were active in diaspora communities and were thus

Th. Vellianitis, “The documents,” Asty (in Greek), 18–19 October, 1891. Quoted in
Matthiopoulos, Art Springs Wings in Sorrow, 207.

Polyvios T. Dimitrakopoulos, The Unearthly Parnassus – Spiritualistic Studies,
(Athens: Greca, 1926).

Dimitrakopoulos, Unearthly Parnassus, 3–15.

Evgenios Matthiopoulos, “La réception du symbolisme en Grèce à travers l’œuvre
de Costis Parthénis pendant la période 1900–1930,” in Quêtes de modernité(s) artistique(s)
dans les Balkans au tournant du XXe siècle, ed. Catherine Méneux et al., Proceedings of
International Conference, Université Paris 1, Panthéon Sorbonne, Paris 8–9 November
2013 (Paris: HICSA, Centre François-Georges Pariset, April 2016), 9–46.

A term used by John A. Armstrong; see, John A. Armstrong, “Mobilized and
Proletarian Diasporas,” The American Political Science Review 70, no. 2 (1976): 393–408. See
also, Matthiopoulos, “La réception du symbolisme en Grèce”, 10.
ready to embrace the European avant-garde trends. In Munich, Nikolaos

Gyzis (1842–1901), a prominent Greek painter – who after having studied
in the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich became a professor there from 1886
onward until his death in 1901 – was much appreciated by his contemporaries
for his ability to intertwine in his visual vocabulary elements from the
illustrious Greek heritage, the Byzantine icons and the more recent stylized
Jugendstil. In the late 1880s, Gyzis began to envision strange worlds of
angelic beings and with his palette he explored more colorful effects and
dark-light contrasts, probably following Goethe’s Farbenlehre (1810). This
turn in his artistic style maybe linked also to his interest in Theosophy at
the end of his life and it should be considered likely that he was aware of
related discussions in the artistic circles he frequented.10
It was this late period of Gyzis that was much appreciated by
Rudolf Steiner, who, in 1910, delivered a lecture on the painter for the
members of the Theosophical Community in Munich. From the late 1900s
onwards, becauseof the culminating crisis between the German and English
Theosophical Societies, Steiner advocated a more esoteric-Christocentric
approach on art, denouncing the mainstream theosophical doctrine, spread
by Annie Besant (1847–1933). This rupture is evidently manifested in the
case of the lecture dedicated to Nikolaos Gyzis’s Behold the Bridegroom
Cometh (1897–1901), a late symbolist work that preoccupied the painter for
the last years of his life. Interestingly enough, Steiner not only commissioned
for the lecture’s purposes an exact replica of Gyzis’s Bridegroom but, by
drawing the viewers’ attention to the formal aspects of the painting and by
juxtaposing Gyzis’s œuvre with Michelangelo’s The Creation of the Sun and the
Moon from the Sistine Chapel ceiling, he aimed at adapting an art-historical
methodology.11 Steiner, in his quest to articulate a theory or “theology of
colours” that would embrace Goethe’s legacy, sought to establish a lineal
10
This subject has occupied me in various articles and conference papers; see, Spyros
Petritakis, “Quand le miroir devient lampion : aspects de la réception de l’ œuvre tardive
de Nikolaus Gysis entre Athènes et Munich,” in Quêtes de modernité(s) artistique(s) dans les
Balkans au tournant du XXe siècle, ed. Catherine Méneux and Adriana Sotropa, Proceedings
of International Conference, Université Paris 1, Panthéon Sorbonne, Paris 8–9 November
2013 (Paris: HICSA, Centre François-Georges Pariset, 2016), 71-97; Spyros Petritakis,
“‘Through the Light, the Love’: The late religious work of Nikolaos Gyzis (1842–1901)
under the light of the Theosophical doctrine in Munich in the 1890s’” (paper presented
at the Conference ‘Enchanted Modernities: Theosophy and the Arts in the Modern World’
University of Amsterdam, September 25–27, 2013); Spyros Petritakis, “The reception of
Nikolaos Gyzis’s ‘Behold the Bridegroom Cometh’ by Rudolf Steiner in Munich in 1910”
(paper presented at the colloquium of CEENASWE for Western Esotericism in East-Central
Europe over the Centuries, Center of Religious Studies and Central European University,
Budapest 4–5 July 2014) (Publication forthcoming by CEU Press).
11
Petritakis, “Quand le miroir devient lampion,” 87.
descent of painters with the view to being able to reassess his contemporary
art scene and thus steer the artistic production for his own purposes. Even
more, this significant aesthetic turn signifies, on behalf of Steiner, cultural
strategies in order to jump off Annie Besant’s aesthetic bandwagon and to
adapt to the historical transformations of German society. Seen in this light,
the reactualization of Goethe’s Farbenlehre, as a “historical necessity,” on
the horizons of younger artists that attended Steiner’s lectures, coincides
with the reinvigoration of western esoteric Christianity, which the Goethe
scholar sought to achieve.
Gyzis’s reception in Greece demonstrates that such “readings” of his
œuvre were totally unknown not only to literary circles, intellectuals and
artists, but also to those who advocated more symbolist tendencies. And not
unfairly since The Bridegroom was exhibited for the first time in Athens in
1928 in the occasion of the Gyzis Exhibition housed at the Iliou Melathron
(Palace of Ilion).12 On the other hand, an attempt to attenuate the mystical
overtones of his late work and view it more in a Greek-Neoplatonic or
Byzantine context is evident in all the course of its reception.13
Konstantinos Parthenis (1878–1967), who held in great esteem Gyzis’s
late work, stemmed also from the Greek diaspora. Born in Alexandria in 1878,
he there met, in 1896, Karl Wilhelm Diefenbach (1851–1913), the great
painter-philosopher and theosophist, who, since 1895, has settled down in
Egypt with his artistic family-community “Humanitas.”14 With his strict
programmatic theses, Diefenbach preached enmity towards materialism,
church, moral principles and established aesthetic norms, embracing, on
the other hand, non-conformist views such as polygamy and deviant sexual
practices, pacifism, nudism, vegetarian diet, employment of unorthodox
exhibition methods and spiritualism. Although the cases of Diefenbach’s
disciples, Fidus (Hugo Höppener, 1868–1948), Gustav Gräser (1879–1958),
and František Kupka (1871–1957), have been adequately examined by
art historians, the artistic course of other members of the community has
hitherto passed unnoticed. One such case is the Greek painter Konstantinos
Parthenis who, even though largely considered to be the most important
Modern Greek painter of the first half of the 20th century, seeking to
combine Byzantine elements with a modernist style, has largely been
12
Petritakis, “Quand le miroir devient lampion,” 75.
13
Matthiopoulos, Art Springs Wings in Sorrow, 541–547. Evgenios Matthiopoulos,
“The Theory of ‘Greekness’ by Marinos Kalligas” (in Greek), Ιστορικά [Historika] 49 (2008):
331–356.
14
On Diefenbach see: Michael Buhrs, ed., Karl Wilhelm Diefenbach (1851–1913),
Lieber sterben als meine Ideale verleugnen!, cat. exh., Villa von Stuck (Munich: Minerva 2009);
Claudia Wagner, “Der Künstler Karl Wilhelm Diefenbach (1851–1913)” (PhD diss., Freie
Universität Berlin, 2007).
neglected regarding his early formative years under Diefenbach’s spiritual

guidance.15
Around 1900, following Diefenbach, Parthenis settled down in
Vienna, where he worked some of his most symbolist and cryptic works,
such as Christ-Humanitas (1898-1900), Sursum Corda (before 1903) Deer
in Thick Wood (around 1900), Lake with Fog (1900-1903), all of which not
only indicate the fruitful assimilation of secessionist tendencies, but also
impart a transcendental understanding of the world. Soon, however, a
rift developed between Diefenbach and Parthenis, which ended up with
the latter abandoning the community and embarking on his own artistic
course. A cause for the rupture may have been, apart from Diefenbach’s
vagarious behavior, the fact that he misappropriated money earned by his
students through their own hard labor.16
Parthenis’s brother, Aristides, also a member of the Diefenbach
family, established himself shortly in Paris and published various poems,
under the pseudonym Ary-René d’Yvermont (1873–1928), and managed a
journal called Isis (Revue mensuelle de la littérature, de critique et d’art). Many
symbolist writers collaborated and contributed with essays there, such as
Péladan, Émile Verhaeren (1855–1916), Paul Adam (1862–1920), Jean
Moréas (born Ioannis A. Papadiamantopoulos, 1856–1910), Gustave Kahn
(1859–1936) and others.17 K. Parthenis as well as a network of bankers
and commissioners that supported him during the interwar time were all
Freemasons and familiar with Theosophical ideas. As E. Matthiopoulos
states, “in this space of sociability and fraternity, configured by the lodges
of the speculative Freemasonry in Greece, Parthenis had found a necessary
material encouragement but equally availed himself of the spiritual and
initiative climate of obedience, in order to express with his symbolist and
modernist works the anxieties of his esoteric and Christian illumination.”18
Nevertheless, most of the times and mainly in the hands of more
skillful writers, such ideas were appropriated through the lens of more
prevailing narratives and ideologies, such as the ideal of ancient Greek
heritage, of Orthodoxy, or via irredentist politics. Even Plato Drakoulis
(1858–1934), one of the torchbearers of the socialist movement in Greece,
member of the Theosophical Society in London and propagator of Fabian
ideas, in the style of Anna Kingsford (1846–1888), soon understood that an
15
For Parthenis’s importance as a teacher and mentor at the Athens School of Fine
Arts, see Evgenios D. Matthiopoulos, C. Parthénis. The life and œuvre of Costis Parthenis
(in Greek), (Athens: Κ. Adam Publications, 2008), 79–81. For his apprenticeship under
Diefenbach, see pages 21–33; Matthiopoulos, Art Springs Wings in Sorrow, 574–594.
16
Wagner, “Der Künstler Karl Wilhelm Diefenbach,”
17
Matthiopoulos, C. Parthenis, 43.
18
Matthiopoulos, “La réception du symbolisme en Grèce”, 44.
acclimatization of Theosophical ideas in Greece had to be abetted by acutely

highlighting the contribution of Pythagoras and Plato to the universal
spiritual movement. As Matthiopoulos states it, Drakoulis was aware of
the symbolic importance that Greek Freemasons attached to Pythagoras
in their “philosophical laboratories”.19 Thus, Drakoulis’s ideas experienced
a wide dissemination among younger intellectuals, especially those who
oscillated between Theosophical ideas and Marxist-revisionist theories.
A striking example of this confluence between Masonic-Theosophical
and socialist networks can be found at Corfu at the beginning of the 20th
century. In 1876, one year after the formation of the Theosophical Society
in New York, the first Theosophical lodge was founded on the island,
under the name “Ionic”.20 Under this new light of mythopoetic syncretism,
Konstantinos Theotokis (1872–1923), an important intellectual, writer,
poet and co-founder of the Socialist Association on Corfu in 1911, wrote,
among other works, a short story on the cluster between paganism and
Christianity, which shows how the eternal fight between light and darkness
was understood by specific circles of Freemasons, whom Theotokis
frequented on Corfu.21 The story, called Το βιο της Κυράς Κέρκυρας [The
Life of Kerkyra], was originally published in 1898, in the symbolist journal
Η Τέχνη [Art].22 Some years later, between 1918 and 1919, the text was
illustrated with etchings by Markos Zavitzianos (1884–1923) which closely
followed the storyline. The plot goes as follows: a wizard with the help of a
local Orthodox priest wants to resurrect the daughter of a pagan king, who
murdered her and buried her in the ancient ruins of an Orthodox church
on Corfu. Of course, the evil wizard was not interested in the beauty of the
assassinated girl but in the treasures, that were clandestinely buried with
her. After having obtained the keys from the priest, the wizard entered the
bema of the Orthodox church and summoned the body of the girl by reading
spells through the pages of a ceremonial book. But as soon as the ceremony
became complicated and the awakened daughter began to undress herself,
the priest, ashamed for his evil acts, broke the ceremony and the church
19
20
21
Spyros Petritakis, “The reception of symbolist trends in the circle of Corfu: The case
of the cooperation of K. Theotokis with Markos Zavitzianos,” in Konstantinos Theotokis and
the Fellowship of the Nine, ed. Marina Papasotiriou and Alexandros N. Teneketzis, Conference
Proceedings (in Greek, National Gallery, Department of Corfu. Corfu: Kerkyraiki apopsis,
2016), 101–130. On Zavitzianos, see Dionysis Kapsalis et al., eds., Markos Zavitsianos:
works and published essays (in Greek, Athens: National Bank of Greece Cultural Foundation,
2012).
22
Konstantinos Theotokis, “The Life of Kerkyra” (in Greek), Η Τέχνη [Art], 1 November
1898, 10–14.
demolished together with its treasures. The illustration of the text, done in
the technique of aquatint, enables the engraver to handle with great care
and sensitivity the sharp contrasts between light and dark – a common trait
of symbolist art – as well as the tonal effects.
Nevertheless, neither Zavitzianos nor Gyzis nor Parthenis were at any
time of their life, as far as we can verify it, members of the Theosophical
Society. It appears though that all of them were somehow associated with
Masonic lodges, whose structural organization served as the pattern par
excellence for the Theosophical ones. As it is deduced by consulting the
archives of the Theosophical Society in Athens, high mobility is recorded
in the members’ transfer between Masonic and Theosophical lodges in the
1920s. That is justifiable, since before the foundation of the National Section
of the Greek Theosophical Society, rather late in 1928, Theosophists have
been active in several lodges, the most important being the lodge “Plato,”
founded in 1922 by Vasileios Krimpas (1889-1964), N. Haritos and Nikos
Karvounis (1880-1947).23 Thus, the institutionalization and concretization
in formal forms of esoteric tendencies took place during the 1920s, when
a network of spiritualists was established that promulgated via journals
and lectures its message to the Athenian public. A spate of translations of
Theosophical books followed immediately that continued uninterrupted till
the early forties.24
Yet, the number of artists that enrolled in the Theosophical Society
of Athens at that period was conspicuously low.25 In the same way, the
artistic production that favoured an “occult” aesthetic in Greece was rather
anaemic. The opposite holds true for literates, scholars, members of the
Academia and archaeologists. But to what extent did Greek novelists or
artists assimilate occult theories and anticipate a more modern aesthetic?
23
24
For example, see Jiddu Krishnamurti, At the Feet of the Master [1910], trans. into
Greek by Konstantinos Passialis (Athens: Greek Theosophical Association, 1926); H. P.
Blavatsky, The Key to Theosophy [1889] (Athens: A. F. Hala, 1947). The official journal of the
Theosophical Society in Athens appeared in print, under the title Ιλισός [Ilissos], rather late,
in 1956.
25
The Theosophical Society’s membership register in Athens lists the following
artists/painters, from the foundation of the Society till the late 1940s: A. Kontos (admitted
in October 1928), Paola Pavlovich (admitted on 12th December 1939), Dimitris Triantafillou
(admitted on 5th December 1945), Artemis Manglavera (admitted on 11th April 1946),
Dionysios Lykoudis (admitted on 6th June 1946), Ioanna Andrianopoulou (admitted in March
1948) and Eleni Kefala (admitted on 30th October 1953); still none of them is known. On
the other hand, relatively known poets and scholars such as Nikos Karvounis (1880–1947)
and Timoleon Vratsanos belonged to the leading figures of the Society, which indicates that
Theosophy met the interests and needs of certain circles of men of letters than those of
artists or designers.
Priska Pytlik, in her book Okkultismus und Moderne, has shown that
occult and spiritistic ideas in the late 19th and early 20th century provided
a favorable soil for the subversion of traditional aesthetic concepts.26 A
number of literary mechanisms such as the abolition of dichotomy between
subject and object, the poetological idea of automatic writing and the porous
boundaries between space and time, all these indicate, according to Pytlik,
an understanding of the possibilities that occult tendencies offer to literary
inspiration. But can we detect in Greek novels of pre- and interwar period
such affinities with occult ideas other than narrative ones? A scholarly
research is yet to be done in that direction.
Both Gyzis and Parthenis were highly acclaimed by critics and
essayists for their ability to amalgamate and illustrate in their paintings
the central tenets of the nation’s main ideological heritage, intelligently
couched in a modern garb and in synchronization with the European
avant-garde movements. Nevertheless, the fact that symbolist paintings
were mainly approached through the lens of ancient Greek and Byzantine
imagery could be a block for the appropriation and adaptation of a visual
vocabulary regarded as more “northern” and “esoteric.” Thus, the last case
to be discussed here, the painter Frixos Aristeas (1879–1951), who from
early on embraced a visual style close to Franz von Stuck, should be seen
in this context.
After having studied at the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich (1897–1900),
in the class of N. Gyzis – boasting on the aftermath that he surpassed all
other students – Frixos Aristeas established himself in Athens after a short
stay in Central Europe and Florence (1900–1901). 27 Paintings, such as The
Apollo-Christ, The Master, Lucifer, The Sphinx, Sea-monsters, Thunder, The
archangel Michael, that Aristeas exhibited in 1901 at the Association of
Art Lovers, or in 1927 at the Lyceum Club of Greek Women in Athens,,
evince not only his skills to grasp the morbidity of the northern countries,
mostly Germany, but also his interest in mythological and theological
syncretism. Aristeas earned his living by teaching at technical schools and
26
Priska Pitlyk, Okkultismus und Moderne: ein kulturhistorisches Phänomen und seine
Bedeutung für die Literatur um 1900 (Paderborn: Ferdinand Schöningh, 2005).
27
The scholarly research on the case of Aristeas remains still comparatively poor in
relation to the painter’s total output. Victoria Ferentinou has recently explored his leaning
to esotericism; Victoria Ferentinou, “Theosophy, Occultism and Greek Symbolism,” (paper
presented at the Conference ‘Enchanted Modernities: Theosophy and the Arts in the Modern
World’ University of Amsterdam, September 25–27, 2013); Victoria Ferentinou, “Light From
Within or Light From Above? Theosophical Appropriations in Early Twentieth-Century
Greek Culture,” in Theosophical Appropriations: Esotericism, Kabbalah, and the Transformation
of Traditions, ed. Julie Chajes and Boaz Huss (Beer Sheva: Ben Gurion University, 2016),
273–308. See also, Miltos Papanikolaou, “Frixos Aristeas,” in Dictionary of Greek Artists (in
Greek), ed. Evgenios D. Matthiopoulos, vol. I, (Athens: Melissa 1997), 97–98.
producing lithographs for various journals, often with a political, critical

nuance. Although he earned in 1937 the golden medal in the International
Exhibition in Paris, Aristeas never achieved to become a towering figure in
the artistic establishment in Greece.28 He lacked both the artistic charisma,
academic technique and the intellectual agility to shape new paths in the
cultural scene in Greece. Until his death his style remained all too academic
and he significantly failed to engraft his hodgepodge of scattered spiritual
ideas onto a firm body of artistic theory.
Aristeas’s preoccupation with spiritualism was intense, yet the extent
to which his ideological quests had an impact on his artistic work remains
arguable. In his autobiography he naïvely suggests that he had, in some
moments in his life, encounters with spirits and ghosts, which he tried to
render visually the following day.29 But most notably, Aristeas frequented
certain circles of intellectuals, critics and writers, whose books, heavily
inspired from occultism and Theosophy, he often illustrated. Such were
the illustrations designed to accompany novels by the playwright and
essayist Polyvios Dimitrakopoulos (1864–1922) as well as by the founder
of the Society of Psychical Research in Athens, Aggelos Tanagras (1877–
1971).30 Both Dimitrakopoulos and Tanagras were born on the second
half of the nineteenth century and therefore both brought with them
during the interwar years the disillusionments and morbid experiences of
consecutive wars and unfulfilled expectations. P. Dimitrakopoulos’s most
seminal study on spiritualism was the Ζωή και Επίζησις [Life and Afterlife],
in which the author discussed a wide range of topics, from telepathy,
telesthesia and mesmerism to “sympatheia” and “antipatheia,” offering
more refined definitions to the above ideas.31 Aristeas’s collaboration with
Dimitrakopoulos was highly productive. It is wonderfully manifested in the
28
Exposition international des arts et des techniques dans la vie moderne, catalogue
général officiel, Paris, 1937, 703.
29
Aristeas’s autobiography remains the most important source of information for an
assessment of his work. Although the book was published after his death in 1955, an altered
version of it is preserved in the National Gallery of Athens as a manuscript. See Frixos
Aristeas, Autobiography, (in Greek, Athens: 1955), 122, where he mentions that after World
War II, due to the predicaments of the war times, he had been overshadowed by ghastly,
supernatural figures that swarmed his room during the night. See also Matthiopoulos, Art
Springs Wings in Sorrow, 211.
30
The Society was founded in 1923 and soon was officially recognized by the titular
Society in England. Since 1925, it’s ideological mouthpiece, the journal Ψυχικαι Έρευναι
[Psychical Researches], played an important role in the dissemination of spiritualism,
promoting hypnotism, mediumship, telepathy, telekinesis and psychometrics.
31
Polyvios T. Dimitrakopoulos [Pol. Arcas], Πνευματισμός: Ζωή και Επίζησις
[Spiritualism: Life and Afterlife], (in Greek, Athens: D. P. Dimitrakos, undated).
poem collection Η Αγέννητη [The Unborn]32 and more significantly in the

Σιδηρά Διαθήκη [Iron Testament], a very popular book at that time, mostly
because it parodied, through the mouth of a cock, the feigned morals of the
society and lampooned the contemporary political events.33
Aggelos Tanagras [born Aggelos Evaggelidis] had participated as a
doctor not only in the Greco-Turkish War of 1897 but also in the Balkan
Wars and the Great War. Echoing the doctrine of reincarnation, Tanagras,
in his novel Εις τα Πτερά του Θανάτου [Into the Wings of Death], declared
that “the last hours of anguish are the greatest deceit, since they are only
the last spasms of the material existence, which the liberated soul, while
hovering above the deathbed in the form of a glowing butterfly, watches
them as they fade away.”34 Tanagras made his debut in the literary circles
in Athens as a collaborator to the journal Noumas, in which he contributed
with translations on Gabriele D’Annunzio (1863–1938) and other symbolist
poets. Some years later, in 1900, he published his first novel Οι σπογγαλιείς
του Αιγαίου [Sponge-divers of Aegean Sea] richly illustrated by Mimis
Papadimitriou (1895–1958), a member of Free-Masonry in Athens.35
Respectively, Tanagras’s relationship with Aristeas came to a fruition in the
publication of the novel Άγγελος Εξολοθρευτής [Angel Terminator].36
Even though Aristeas’s rich illustrations provided visual context to the
aforementioned writers, the impact of spiritualism on his imagery remains
insignificant. On the other hand, while Gyzis and Parthenis used the mystical
impetus to explore new ways of formal representation, Aristeas never cut
loose from the moorings of academic art or questioned the very foundations
upon which it stood. There is one work, however, that bespeaks Aristeas’s
attempt to undertake a path towards esotericism. This is his painting Ο
Ων [The Being], that was produced to be viewed as an accompaniment to a
32
Polyvios T. Dimitrakopoulos, The Unborn (in Greek, Athens:K. Meissner and N.
Kargadouri, 1907). The poems were published the same year in French: L’Incréée – chants
mystiques, trans. Henry Faignet (Paris: Éditions du Monde Héllénique, 1907).
33
The book (The Two Testaments, Athens: Ktena 1901) was published for the first time
in 1901, preceded by another part called The Golden Testament, both illustrated by Frixos
Aristeas. A revised and enriched version of The Iron Testament followed in 1919 and later
in 1929 by the publishing house I. Sideris. A French translation was brought to fruition in
1908, see Pol Arcas [Polybe T. Dimitracopoulos], Les deux Testaments (Physiologie sociale),
trans. Henry Faignet (Paris: Éditions du Monde Héllénique, 1908). The French text was
prefaced with two laudatory remarks expressed by the Futurist poet Filippo Tommaso
Marinetti (1876–1944) and the German physician Max Nordau (1849–1923).
34
Aggelos Tanagras, Into the wings of death (in Greek, Athens: I. Sideris, 19182), 11.
35
Aggelos Tanagras, Sponge-divers of Aegean Sea (in Greek, Athens: I. Sideris, 1900).
Pol Arcas’s Verse novels by Conte-Kouroupi (Athens: Agyra, undated) was also illustrated by
Papadimitriou.
36
Aggelos Tanagras, Angel Terminator (in Greek, Athens: I. Sideris, 1913).
treatise on colors which Aristeas had been writing since 1935 and to which
he has given the title Φως εκ του Σκότους [Throughout the dark the light].37
Attempting to demonstrate how interrelated light and dark are, Aristeas has
drawn on a mosaic of ideas, such as neo-impressionist art theories, Goethe’s
Farbenlehre (1810) and spiritualist ideas.
This drawing depicts a face with a beard and austere expression
(marked as the “Ο ΩΝ”), probably that of a divine entity. It is inscribed inside
a black square, which is again inscribed inside a white circle. The face of the
figure is rendered in stripes by the three basic colors: red, yellow and blue.
The background of the square is rendered black, the admixture of these
three basics, according to Aristeas. Finally, beams of light emanate from the
last circle, which indicate that light comes from dark and the opposite.38 A
Theosophical echo is not hard to detect in this treatise; the discussion on the
polarity between dark and light, the first rendered by black and the latter
by yellow color, as well as the emphasis on the “ethereal colors”, reflect not
only a preoccupation with Goethe’s scientific color theory, but also suggest
that Aristeas was perhaps familiar with the color-light shows that were
much popularized by artists keen on a Theosophical worldview.39 However,
the importance of Aristeas’s treatise cannot be overstated; it is more the
result of meagre intellectualism, since the various elements embedded in it
remain unassimilated.
In sum, although at the turn of the century and at the beginning of
the 20th, a specific admixture of neo-romanticism and spiritualism has been
evident in the writings of some intellectuals in Greece – a tendency that was
institutionally framed later, in 1928, by the foundation of the Theosophical
Society in Athens –, this attempt did not find its pendant in the visual arts.
The specific cultural and political circumstances in Greece, the dominance
of classicism, which triggered a predilection towards more academic forms
of art, the insufficiency of institutional structures capable of steering and
shaping artistic practice, as well as the paramountcy of Greek philosophy,
at the expense of other non-European philosophical systems, all these
impeded the artists’ vision to cross the Rubicon, namely to undertake the
path towards the dissolution of form or abstraction.
37
Frixos Aristeas, Throughout the dark the light and throughout the light the dark (in
Greek, Athens: n.p. 1935).
38
For a description of this work see: Aristeas, Autobiography, 120–121.
39
For example, the Danish composer and inventor Thomas Wilfred (1889–1968) is
very well known for his use of colored light in order to create complex patterns of moving
forms. See, Thomas Wilfred, “Light and the Artist,” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism,
5, no. 4, (1947): 247–255.
References
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7.038.53:929Abramović M.
Nikola Pešić
Independent scholar
New Age Healing in Marina Abramović’s Art
Healing is usually considered as one of the crucial aspects of the New Age.
For example, Wouter Hanegraaff defined healing and personal growth as
one of the major “trends” in the New Age religion. With regard to the
idea of healing and personal growth expressed in, or achieved through art,
probably the best example would be the German artist Joseph Beuys (1921–
1986) who was influenced by alchemy, Anthroposophy, and shamanism.
Beuys presented his art and lectures as an attempt to “change the
consciousness” and heal human society. Serbian artist Marina Abramović
(1946, Yugoslavia) – whose art I will discuss in this paper – was very much
influenced by Beuys and his idea of the artist as shaman and healer of
society. Beuys most likely drew his information about shamans from the
books on the subject written by Mircea Eliade and Hans Findeisen. Eliade
* artnikolapesic@gmail

Wouter Hanegraaff, New Age Religion and Western Culture: Esotericism in the Mirror of
Secular Thought (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 1996), 42–61.

About Beuys as a “shaman,” “healer,” “magician” or “alchemist”, see Verena Kuni,
Der Künstler als “Magier” und “Alchemist” im Spannungsfeld von Produktion und Rezeption :
Aspekte der Auseinandersetzung mit okkulten Traditionen in der europäischen Kunstgeschichte
nach 1945. Eine vergleichende Fokusstudie – ausgehend von Joseph Beuys (PhD diss., Philipps-
Universität Marburg, 2004).

Marina Abramović started her career in the early 1970s in Belgrade, the capital of
the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. She moved from Yugoslavia in 1976 and started
working and living in Amsterdam with German artist Ulay. They split in 1988 and since then
Abramović has been dedicated to her solo career. She moved to New York in 2005 and soon
became one of the most recognizable and popular artists in the USA and worldwide.

For example, see Abramović’s statement in the documentary Beuys und Beuys: Der
Jahrhundertkünstler zwischen Fettstuhl und sozialer Skulptur (Mainz: 3sat, 2006).

Both Eliade’s Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy and Findeisen’s Schamanentum:
dargestellt am Beispiel der Besessenheitspriester nordeurasiatischer Völker were published
in Germany in 1957. See Klaus Raschzok, “Joseph Beuys (1921–1986) und die figur des
Schamanen im Künstlerischen Werk,” in Shamanismus als Herausforderung: Dokumentation
242 Nikola Pešić
and his descriptions of different rituals also fascinated Abramović from the
beginning of her career.
The performances Abramović made in her Belgrade period (1970–
1976) belonged to the early Post-avant-garde art in Serbia. According
to art theoretician Miško Šuvaković early Post-avant-garde art in Serbia
was influenced by the ideas of the New Left, philosophy of language,
and personal interest of some artists in the “esoteric teachings of East
and West.” Abramović was undoubtedly one of these artists inspired by
esotericism. Although her parents were ardent communists, (i.e. atheists)
Abramović developed an interest in spiritual matters under the influence
of her maternal grandmother Milica Rosić, with whom she spent her early
childhood. Milica Rosić was a believer of the Serbian Orthodox Church
and her husband’s brother Barnabas Rosić was the Partriarch of the
Serbian Orthodox Church between 1930 and 1937. However, according
to Velimir Abramović – Marina Abramović’s younger brother – Milica
Rosić also regularly practiced the traditional folk divination method of
“looking in the cup” (of Turkish coffee) and had great success in predicting
their grandchildren’s exam results.10 It was most probably this aspect of
her grandmother’s spirituality, and not Orthodox Christianity, that really
fascinated Marina Abramović who later in her youth became a great
admirer of the Theosophy of H. P. Blavatsky.11 During her student years,
des Symposiums 2015 in Bad Alexandersbad, ed. Haringke Fugman (Norderstedt: BoD, 2015),
158–197.

James Westcott, When Marina Abramović Dies: A Biography (Cambridge: MIT Press,
2010), 41–42.

The “Belgrade period” refers to all works (drawings, photographs, installations,
performances, etc.) Abramović made while she was living in Belgrade, whether they were
produced in Belgrade or abroad (Austria, Italy, UK, etc.).

Miško Šuvaković, Pojmovnik suvremene umjetnosti [ABC of contemporary art]
(Zagreb: Horetzky, 2005), 468. About Post-avant-garde art in Serbia and Yugoslavia in the
English language, see Miško Šuvaković, Impossible Histories. Historic Avant-Gardes, Neo-
Avant-Gardes, and Post-Avant-Gardes in Yugoslavia, 1918–1991 (Cambridge: MIT Press,
2003).

A number of English speaking authors, and Abramović herself, misleadingly referred
to Patriarch Barnabas as her grandfather. They also wrongly stated he was canonized by the
Serbian Orthodox Church as a saint (he was not beatified either). See, for example, Marina
Abramović, The Biography of Biographies (Milano: Charta, 2004), 36; also, Mary Richards,
Marina Abramović (London/New York: Routledge, 2010), 42. About Patriarch Barnaba’s
life and legacy, see Veljko Đurić Mišina, Varnava. Patrijarh srpski [Barnabas. Serbian
patriarch]. (Sremski Karlovci: Eparhija sremska; Beograd: Parohija Hrama Svetog Save;
2009).
10
“Goli zivot – Velimir Abramovic – (TV Happy 2013),” YouTube video, 2:01:29,
posted by “Goli Zivot TV HAPPY,” March 29. 2015, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-
fJs6LWlwbc
11
Westcott, When Marina Abramović Dies, 41–42.
New Age Healing in Marina Abramović’s Art 243
she and Velimir Abramović – who is today a popular New Age author in
Serbia12 — showed a vivid interest in esotericism. Due to a considerable
social influence of their mother Danica Abramović (née Rosić),13 young
siblings had access to home libraries of Belgrade intellectuals who owned
important books and magazines on esotericism published in pre-socialist
Yugoslavia. One of them was Abramović’s professor at the Faculty of Fine
Arts Dušan Gaković, who – according to Velimir Abramović – owned “the
complete esotericism... around 2.000 titles”.14 Moreover, there were also
newly published books on esotericism available at that time. As Gordan
Đurđević noted, socialist Yugoslavia experienced the “occult boom” in the
1970s.15 Đjurđević emphasizes the importance of the books by the famous
Yugoslav “hermeticist” Živorad Mihajlović Slavinski. It is worth mentioning
that Velimir Abramović was also one of the participants in the “occult
boom” – in 1979 he published the book on Tarot, under the pseudonym
Vilijam Abramčik.16
Marina Abramović’s interest in the esotericism was evident in her early
performances. In Rhythm 5 – performed in 1974 during the art manifestation
III April Encounters in the Student Cultural Centre (SKC) in Belgrade – she
doused with gasoline a big wooden construction in the shape of what was
then publicly recognized exclusively as a five-pointed star of communism.
Abramović then cut her hair, finger and toe nails, and threw them into the
fire. After standing for some time in the middle of the star, with her legs
and hands stretched, she lay down – thus evoking the famous drawing of a
man inscribed in a pentagram, from Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa’s (1486–
1535) De occulta philosophia (1533). In an interview given shortly after she
performed Rhythm 5, Abramović explained to a journalist that the shape of
a five-pointed star (of communism) “corresponds to a man, because it has
12
Velimir Abramović, who has a PhD in Philosophy, is the leader of Teslianism – a
popular new “scientific religion” in the spirit of the Theosophy of H. P. Blavatsky, in which the
famous Serbian scientist Nikola Tesla is the main “saint”; see V. Abramović, Tesla – Evolucija
svesti čovečanstva [Evolution of The World Consciousness], 202. We may see the influence
of Velimir Abramović’s Teslianism in two video-performances Abramović produced in 2003
– Tesla Urn and Tesla Electricity.
13
Danica Abramović was at the head of the state committee for the public acquisition
of artworks, and held the position of the Director of the Museum of Art and Revolution of
Yugoslavia (in Belgrade).
14
Interview of the author with Velimir Abramović (April 8, 2016).
15
Gordan Đurđević, “Hidden Wisdom in the Ill-Ordered House. A Short Survey of
Occultism in Former Yugoslavia,” in Occultism in a Global Perspective. Approaches to New
Religions, ed. Henrik Bogdan and Gordan Đurđević (Durham: Acumen Publishing, 2013),
79–100.
16
Vilijam Abramčik, Tarot: velike arkane [Tarot: the Major Arcana] (Beograd: Velimir
Abramović, 1979).
244 Nikola Pešić
five points as a man does”; she also revealed that she was using “elements
of ritual magic” in this performance.17 Interestingly, similar comparison
between the five-pointed star of communism (petokraka in Serbian)
and the pentagram appeared in The Psychological Study of Magic (1972;
alternative title was The Keys to Psychic Magic) – a book by Ž. M. Slavinski.
According to Đurđević, Slavinski’s book was “the first practical manual of
Western occultism published in the region in a native language (Serbian),”
and it had its origin “in the teachings of the Hermetic Order of the Golden
Dawn.”18 Slavinski described what he called “The Ritual of Pentagram or
Five-Pointed Star.”19 Among other elements in this ritual, he instructed his
readers to visualize a big five-pointed star burning with the “blue flame of
blazing spirit.” It is not widely known that Rhythm 5 was initially performed
and discussed as The Star of Fire [Zvezda od vatre]20 and that only later
Abramović officially changed the title to Rhythm 5.21 The original title – The
Star of Fire – indicates a possible influence of Éliphas Lévi’s understanding
of a “mysterious pentagram” as a blazing star of Bethlehem which conducted
“three kings, sons of Zoroaster” to “the cradle of the microcosmic God.”22
Indeed, Abramović’s biographer James Westcott reports that she preferred
to think of the star of communism as of “the pentagram of the occult.”23
Westcott also describes this performance as “a rite of passage” and “ritual
of cleansing and regeneration.”24 Interestingly, artist “shaman” Joseph
Beuys – who was a special guest of the III April Encounters – was present
in the audience during Abramović’s performance. There was even an urban
myth that Beuys was the one who rescued Abramović from the blazing star
when she lost her consciousness due to smoke and the lack of oxygen.25
Beuys’s charisma and the lecture he gave in the SKC the day before most
17
Zrinka Jurčić, “Život u umjetnosti”, (Life in art) magazine Oko (May 5, 1974).
18
Đurđević, “Hidden Wisdom in the Ill-Ordered House,” 85–86.
19
Živorad Mihajlović Slavinski, Psihološka studija magije [Ključevi psihičke magije]
(Psychological study of magic [keys of psychic magic]) (Beograd: Živorad Mihajlović, 1973),
113.
20
In Serbian: “Zvezda od vatre” (Fiery star). See “III aprilski susret 16–22. april
1974,” SKC Archive, http://www.arhivaskc.org.rs/hronografije-programa/velike-
manifestacije/aprilski-susreti/5835-iii-aprilski-susreti.html (accessed October 26, 2016).
21
The reason for this change of the title is unclear.
22
Lévi presented this idea in order to demonstrate the “the wholly kabbalistic and
truly magical beginnings of Christian doctrine”; see Éliphas Lévi, Transcendental Magic. Its
Doctrine and Ritual (London: George Redway,1896), 227.
23
Westcott, When Marina Abramović Dies, 82.
24
25
This myth has been created and perpetuated by Serbian art historians; for example,
see Ješa Denegri, Sedamdesete: Teme srpske umetnosti [1970s themes of Serbian art] (Novi
Sad: Svetovi, 1996), 102. See also Jovana Stokić, “Druga strana, ovde i sada [The other side:
Here and now],” magazine Vreme, Nov. 26, 2005.
probably inspired young Abramović to conceive her performance as a

ritual of the future artist “shamaness” who had to go through some kind of
self-initiation and self-healing, or – as her biographer put it – “Abramović
burnished herself in fire.”26
One year later, Abramović performed Thomas Lips (1975) at
Krinzinger Gallery in Innsbruck (Austria). The performance started with
the “Eucharist” in which she sat naked at the table, ate one jar of honey and
drank one bottle of wine. Then she drew on the wall an inverted pentagram
around the photography of Thomas Lips (a young Swiss man she wanted to
seduce),27 cut the same inverted pentagram on her belly with a razor-blade,
flagellated herself until she started to bleed, and finally “crucified” herself
on a cross made of ice blocks. A number of English-speaking authors have
interpreted both Rhythm 5 and Thomas Lips as a daring “critique of socialism’s
oppressions,” and both stars used in these performances exclusively as five-
pointed stars of communism.28 However, press clippings from that time
reveal that both performances were not perceived as a critique of the ruling
communist structures. On the contrary, The Young Communist League of
Yugoslavia (SKOJ) even bestowed an art prize to Abramović for her Rhythm
5.29 Similarly, according to Velimir Abramović, their father Vojo Abramović
praised her daughter’s performance as the act of bravery and compared
it to his partisan heroism during the Second World War.30 Most of the art
critics were very positive in their writing about Rhythm 5.31 Another wrong
claim we find in the literature in the English language is that Abramović’s
flagellation and pain-enduring feats derive from Serbian Orthodox Christian
tradition,32 which represents an uninformed and uncritical re-interpretation
of Abramović’s own narratives used for her personal branding in the West
26
27
Jovana Stokić, Marina Abramović Speaks with Jovana Stokić (Madrid: La Fábrica and
Fundación Telefónica 2008), 42–44.
28
Richards, Marina Abramović, 12.
29
See the catalogue of the exhibition Nagrada sedam sekretara SKOJ- a for the years
1973 and 1974 (Zagreb: Galerija nova – Centar za kulturnu djelatnost SSO, 1975).
30
“Goli zivot – Velimir Abramovic – (TV Happy 2013),” YouTube video, 2:01:29,
posted by “Goli Zivot TV HAPPY,” March 29. 2015, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-
fJs6LWlwbc
31
See Jurčić, “Život u umjetnosti”. See also Aleksandar Postolović, “U povodu ‘Zvezde
od vatre’ Marine Abramović, in Bilten III Aprilski susret 0 (Beograd: Studentski kulturni
centar, 1974).
32
See for example Jovana Stokić “The Art of Marina Abramović: Leaving the Balkans,
Entering the Other Side,” in The Artist is Present, ed. Marina Abramović (New York: Museum
of Modern Art, 2010), 25; see also Klaus Biesenbach, “Marina Abramović: The Artist is
Present. The Artist was Present. The Artist will be Present,” in The Artist is Present, ed.
Marina Abramović (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 2010), 16.
246 Nikola Pešić
as an art product from the “Balkans” with the intriguing “communist” and
“Orthodox Christian” overtones.33 Abramović’s usage of Christian symbols
and liturgical elements is more likely to draw inspiration from the esoteric
literature, such as Slavinski’s book The Psychological Study of Magic.
Slavinski wrote about the two powerful magical symbols – the cross and
the five-pointed star (i. e. the pentagram) – both of which were present
in Thomas Lips. Slavinski warned his readers not to identify the cross with
Christianity, because it has been used as a powerful symbol in magic since
the times of ancient Egypt.34 Abramović used the symbols of the cross and
the five-pointed star (pentagram) in a performance that had little to do
with Christianity (Orthodox or else) – it was dedicated to a young man she
wanted to seduce by means of something that could be described as self-
healing “magic.” This is confirmed by Abramović’s own words:
So his name was Thomas Lips, and I wanted to invite him to come to my
performance [...] but he didn’t come and then I was so kind of lovesick that
I took his photograph and a photograph of the invitation to the piece and
I put it on the wall and I made the pentagram with just the black paint
around his photograph, and then I made a whole piece kind of dedicated to
him. So many people interpreted Thomas Lips as thinking about something
religious... And I just let these interpretations be whatever each person
wanted it to be, because I thought why not?35
33
About Abramović’s reinventing of herself as a specific art product from the
“Balkans”, see Louisa Avgita, “Marina Abramović’s Universe: Universalizing the Particular
in Balkan Epic,“ in Cultural Policy, Criticism and Management Research 6 (2012), 7–28. In 2005
Abramović re-performed her Thomas Lips in a series of re-performances in the Guggenheim
Museum in New York. For that occasion, she renamed the performance to Lips of Thomas.
She also omitted the inverted pentagram on the wall, and “rotated” the one which she cut
on her belly, so it could be read as a communist five-pointed star. She also added some new
“Balkan” elements — like a partisan cap and a Russian soundtrack about the suffering of Slavic
souls. These new elements in Lips of Thomas are part of Abramović’s marketing strategy of
presenting herself as a “Balkan” artist with both communist and Serbian Orthodox Christian
backgrounds, and they were absent from the original performance Thomas Lips. Therefore,
all retroactive projections of these new elements on the old version of the performance are
wrong and misleading.
34
Slavinski, Psihološka studija magije, 30.
35
Stokić, Marina Abramović Speaks, 43. We should also mention possible artistic
influences visible in Thomas Lips – that of Gina Pane and Herman Nitsch. Both artists were
very admired by the Austrian gallerist Ursula Krinzinger and exhibited in her gallery shortly
before Abramović performed there her Thomas Lips. Pane was well-known for her self-
mutilating “actions”; in her Action Psyché (1974) she cut a cross on her belly. Nitsch, one of
the favorite artist of Ursula Krinzinger, was known for his Orgien Mysterien Theater – mass-
performances in which he regularly “crucified” participants (Abramović also took part in
one of Nitsch’s “orgies”).
In her later work, Abramović gradually directed her efforts towards

the public and their healing and personal growth. This Beuysian “didactic”
period in Abramović’s art began in the late 1980s, after she performed her
last collaborative piece with her lover, German artist Ulay. After a 12-year
personal and professional relationship, the couple decided to perform The
Lovers: The Great Wall Walk. They walked for 90 days from the either side
of the Great Wall of China to finally meet in the middle and say goodbye.
According to Abramović, during this walk she felt different “energies” in the
ground beneath her, and then came to a conclusion that the Great Wall must
have been built in accordance with the planet’s “line of energy” – produced
by different minerals or metals in the soil. In an interview with an art
historian Germano Celant, Abramović explained that all ancient structures
– such as Celtic monuments, pyramids, temples and churches – were built
according to this “line of energy.”36 Humanity lost the sense of the planet’s
“line of energy” long ago by covering the cities with marble and cement.
Abramović, however, claims that she regained this lost ability during her
meditative walk along the Great Wall. Upon her return from China, she
wanted her public to experience the same feeling of being connected with
the planet and her “line of energy.” This story is Abramović’s standard
report on how she started making new series of works she called Transitory
Objects.37
Abramović presents Transitory Objects not as sculptures in the
traditional sense but as practical objects with the purpose of healing and
spiritually transforming the user through the influence of hidden “energies”
supposedly emanating from the natural materials used in their construction
– such as copper, iron, crystals, etc.38 According to Abramović, once the
humanity reaches the sought-for spiritual transformation, no objects will
be necessary, and that is why she called them “transitory.” Working with
Transitory Objects was meant only as the first phase in the spiritual evolution
36
The idea that the Great Wall (as well as other ancient buildings) was built along
the planet’s “lines of energy” belongs to a New Age repertoire, not to the Chinese tradition.
In fact, one historical account reveals that one of the builders considered the construction
of the wall a crime, since it cuts through “the veins of the earth” – against the principles of
Feng-shui; see Arthur Waldron, The Great Wall of China: From History to Myth (Cambridge/
New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 195. Moreover, in Chinese folklore the
Great Wall is considered mostly as something negative, since many people died during its
construction under the tyranny of Qin Shi Huang, first emperor of China; see Chi Chi Huang,
“Deconstructing the Great Wall of China: The Jesuits’ and British Encounters,” in History in
the Making 1/1 (2012), 67–69.
37
Germano Celant, Marina Abramović: Public Body. Installations and Objects 1965–
2001 (Milano: Charta, 2001), 29.
38
This echoes Beuys who used felt and fat in his art because he considered these
materials to possess healing properties.
248 Nikola Pešić
of her public; the final goal was to reach the “high level of consciousness”
that would enable the public to receive the thoughts and “energy” directly
from the artist, by means of telepathy.39
First series of Transitory Objects was titled Dragons, the focal point of
which was always a piece of a mineral – quartz, hematite, chrysocolla, etc.
Abramović drew the inspiration for this name from traditional Chinese folk
tales of different dragons living underneath the Great Wall.40 She gradually
established the esoteric system of correspondences between the Great Wall,
mythical dragons, Earth’s “lines of energy,” different minerals in the soil,
and organs of the human body. According to her biographer, she formulated
these correspondences through research both in geology and Tibetan and
Chinese medicine.41 This reflects a typical New Age “parallelism” between
the Western science and Eastern wisdom.42 However, in a conversation with
the art critic Thomas McEvilley Abramović revealed that she was in fact
using her intuition, not written knowledge; namely, she used to sleep with
different minerals to learn about their “healing energies” and their effect
on different organs.43 This is again typical of the New Age epistemology in
which the primacy of unmediated personal experience in gaining access
to higher knowledge is emphasized.44 In another conversation with an art
critic Germano Celant, Abramović revealed that she was also spending
longer periods of time in front of the minerals, meditating in two positions:
sitting or lying down, with the basic idea of “emptying” herself and allowing
the minerals “talk” to her.45 Abramović’s Dragons were made to be used
in three ways – standing, sitting and lying. These basic positions are
also employed during the Buddhist vipassana retreats which Abramović
attended in India. In these retreats participants practice the technique of
mindfulness, popularized by Burmese Buddhist monk Mahasi Sayadaw
(1904–1982). These retreats allow laypersons to experience the therapeutic
effects of mindfulness without becoming monks and detailed learning of
the Buddhist doctrine and texts. Mindfulness, popularly understood in the
39
Art Meets Science & Spirituality in a Changing Economy, DVD (Amsterdam: Asset
Foundation / New York: Mystic Fire Video, 2013).
40
Celant, Marina Abramović, 29.
41
42
Hanegraaff, New Age Religion, 69; 128–129.
43
Thomas McEvilley, “Stages of Energy: Performance Art Ground Zero?” in Artist
Body: Performances 1969–1998, ed. Marina Abramović et al. (Milano: Charta, 1998), 18–19.
44
Christopher Partridge, “Truth, Authority, and Epistemological Individualism in
New Age Thought,” in Handbook of New Age, ed. Daren Kemp and James R. Lewis (Leiden /
Boston: Brill, 2007), 243.
45
Celant, Marina Abramović, 9–29. Abramović also made two series of photographs
called Waiting for An Idea which represent her sitting and lying on front of the pile of
amethyst crystals; see Celant, Marina Abramović, 110–111.
West as “living in the here and now” emerged as one of the foundation of
the transnational Buddhist modernism.46 The term “Buddhist modernism”
is used in academia to describe the Buddhism reformulated in dialectical
encounter with the key discourses of Modernism – such as science, ecology,
or psychology.47 Richard K. Payne considers the Buddhist Modernism as a
part of the “modern esoteric tradition,” i.e. New Age.48 Indeed, Abramović is
merging ideas derived from Buddhist modernism, Chinese folklore, crystal
therapy, and her understanding of Western science (geology). In a typical
New Age manner, she presents this “mix” as an ancient knowledge that
could help people heal and advance in their spiritual development.
Abramović further developed her idea of healing the public, in an art
installation Soul Operation Room (1999/2000).49 The title itself implied that
visitors were to experience a kind of healing. Abramović invited her public
to participate in different procedures, or “soul operations”. For example, in
the installation called the Rejuvenator of the Astral Balance, visitors could sit
and meditate for the prescribed 45 minutes in deck chairs placed in front of
the three working metronomes. They could also expose themselves to the
“energies” of the Time Energizers which were basically metal constructions
with big magnets on the top. “Energizing” with magnets is often used in
the New Age healing to “enhance” water or air.50 The use of magnets for
therapeutic purposes could be traced back to the Mesmerism movement,
whose initiator, German physician Franz Antoan Mesmer (1734–1815),
tried healing his patients with magnets. Mesmer concluded that magnets
amplify and channel the healing cosmic “fluid.”51 It is similar to Abramović’s
46
On the notion of mindfulness, see Robert H. Sharf, “Is mindfulness Buddhist? (and
why it matters),” in Transcultural Psychiatry, 52/4 (2015), 470–484.
47
David McMahan, The Making of Buddhist Modernism (New York: Oxford University
Press, 2008).
48
Richard K. Payne, “Buddhism and the Powers of the Mind,” in Buddhism in the
Modern World, ed. David L. McMahan (New York: Routledge, 2012), 233–256. In his analysis,
Payne employs Olav Hammer’s methodology of the three discursive strategies in modern
esoteric tradition; see Olav Hammer, Claiming Knowledge: Strategies of Epistemology from
Theosophy to the New Age (Leden/Boston: Brill, 2004).
49
Soul Operation Room was presented at group exhibition Zeitwenden in Bonn
(Kunstmuseum, 1999/2000) and Vienna (Ludwig Museum, 2000), and at her solo show in
Athens (Kappatos Gallery, 2000).
50
For example, one product that could be purchased online – Vortex Magnetic Energizer
– has four gold plated magnets that are supposedly “imprinted with specific resonance
frequencies which support our immune system and overall health”. The customers are also
supplied copper Harmony Rings that are to be placed around the bottle, and Flower of Life
and Sri Yantra bottle stickers – to further “enhance” the water. Available at: http://www.
vibrantvitalwater.com/index_vitalwater.htm (accessed October 26, 2016).
51
Bertrand Mehust, “Animal Magnetism/Mesmerism”, in Dictionary of Gnosis &
Western Esotericism, ed. Wouter Hanegraaff (Leden/Boston: Brill, 2006), 76–77.
250 Nikola Pešić
claim that “magnets create a kind of balance of the energy in the body, in
relation to the axis of the planet.”52
During her career as a professor of performance art on different
academies in Europe, from 1990 to 2004, Abramović used to organize
special workshops with her students, called Cleaning the House – the ‘house’
here being a metaphor for the body which, according to Abramović, needs
to be clean(s)ed before a student engages in any serious artistic activity.
Cleaning the House workshop included Abramović and her students not
eating and talking for five or more days, and also engaging in various
physical and mental exercises. A number of exercises were clearly inspired
by G. I. Gurdjieff, or the “great Russian teacher”, as Abramović called him.53
In one interview Abramović told the journalist that next to the Theosophy
of Blavatsky, Buddhism, and shamans, she was also much influenced by
Gurdjieff.54 In the Stop with Mirror Exercise – which echoes the famous
Stop Exercise invented by Gurdjieff – Abramović would unpredictably put a
mirror in front of a student’s face who was not to change facial expression in
that particular moment.55 Abramović also introduced some exercises which
she learned during her retreats in India, such as the Slow Motion exercise,
where students were instructed to move as slowly as possible, doing everyday
activities.56 In another exercise, Counting The Rice, students were given
piles of uncooked rice mixed with lentils, with an assignment to separate
the grains and count them – which usually took them several hours.
In 2010 Abramović performed her most famous piece The Artist is
Present (2010) during her retrospective in New York’s Museum of Modern
Art. Abramović basically invited her public on a healing session of Modern
Buddhist-inspired mindfulness: she announced she would sit silently on a
chair for two and a half months, six days a week, from the opening to the
closing of the museum. The audience was invited to sit on an empty chair
across Abramović, one by one, and engage in a non-verbal communication
with her. Museum officials warned Abramović that the busy New Yorkers
had no time to sit and do nothing, and that the chair across her might
remain empty most of the time. Nevertheless, Abramović’s invitation
52
Zoe Kosmidou, “Transitory Objects: A Conversation with Marina Abramovic,”
in Sculpture Magazine 20/9, (2001), available at http://www.sculpture.org/documents/
scmag01/nov01/abram/abram.shtml (accessed October 26, 2016).
53
See “Encontros com Marina Abramoviă no Sesc Pompeia.” YouTube video, 1:38:11,
by “Sesc em Sâo Paulo,” pulished on May 19, 2015; available at https://www.youtube.com/
watch?v=Ju7hgOnwOPc (accessed October 26, 2016).
54
See Slava Mogutin, “The Legend of Marina Abramović,” Whitewall Magazine,
summer 2010.
55
Marina Abramović, The Student Body (Milano: Charta, 2003), 58–59.
56
Abramović, The Student Body, 94–95.
attracted more than half a million people, and the show became the most
visited exhibition of contemporary art in the world that year.57 For a certain
number of visitors this experience of sitting and engaging in a mutual gaze
with Abramović had a cathartic and healing effect: they cried and behaved
very emotionally. Some of them remained in the chair for several hours,
and even the whole day. All of the 1,545 sitters were photographed by the
Italian photographer Marco Anelli, and their portraits were immediately
published online, during the performance. Interestingly, faces of people
that cried while sitting with Abramović attracted most of the public
attention, and soon a general impression was created that a great number
of sitters cried, or reacted very emotionally. In fact, less than 6% of the
sitters cried.58 Nonetheless, it is important to notice that the artist and
the museum organizers wanted to present this performance as a healing
ritual, and Abramović as sort of a “mind healer” catering to the needs of the
busy New Yorkers, who otherwise wouldn’t allow themselves such idleness
– to sit quietly and try to get in touch with their inner selves. Abramović
explains:
I’m like a mirror to them. After a while they don’t look at me anymore,
their eyes look inward into their selves. That gives them that incredibly
precious time that they never had because they’re running around with
their BlackBerrys.59
After The Artist is Present, Abramović decided to synthesize elements of

this performance, Transitory Objects, Soul Operation Room, and Cleaning
The House workshop, in a series of exercises she called The Abramović
Method – designed not only for art students, but for the general public.
According to Abramović, her Method is a “platform for the changing of
the consciousness”.60 Its goal is healing and personal growth (the artist
instructs her public to “work on themselves”). This echoes great esoteric
masters – such as Steiner, or Gurdjieff – and their “systems” or “methods” of
teaching. Although The Abramović Method has gone through many changes
57
The Artist is Present had 561,471 visitors, or 7,120 visitors daily, according to an
article “Exhibition & Museum Attendance Figures 2010,” in The Art Newspaper (April 2011),
http://www.museologie.uqam.ca/Page/Document art_newspaper_2011-04.pdf (accessed
October 26, 2016).
58
According to the information that the author received on March 8, 2016, via e-mail
from the office of the photographer Marco Anelli, “only” 89 persons cried.
59
Jesse Pearson and Richard Kern, “Marina Abramović,” Vice, Nov 1, 2010, https://
www.vice.com/gr/article/marina-abramovic-599-v17n11 (accessed October 26, 2016).
60
Erin Whitney, “Why Marina Abramović is Not Your F*cking Guru,” Huffington
Post, November 26, 2014, http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/11/26/marina-abramovic-
generator_n_6214916.html (accessed October 26, 2016).
252 Nikola Pešić
during the years, the main purpose seems to be the same: it is the healing of
contemporary Western people who lack time to be in the present moment,
and get in touch with their inner [Higher] Selves. In the pilot version of
The Abramović Method, presented in Milan in 2012, members of the public
were asked to put on the white lab coats and do some preparatory exercises.
Preparation was conducted by Abaramović’s assistants who instructed the
audience to engage in short breathing exercises, or to create the “energy” by
rubbing their palms, and so on. Then, they were given the noise-canceling
headphones and positioned on three different types of Transitory objects:
1) chairs with crystals – there were seven chairs for “human use” and seven
smaller for “spirit use,”61 2) structures with magnets, and 3) beds with black
quartz minerals underneath them.
After the presentation of her Method in Milan, Abramović went on a
journey to Brazil, where she visited different mediums, shamans and healers.
John of God (João de Deus),62 popular spiritual “surgeon” and spiritist
medium, was one of the important people Abramović visited during her
journey. Healing in John of God’s “spiritual hospital” Casa de Dom Inácio
(named after St. Ignatius of Loyola) is based upon the principles of the
Christian-influenced spiritualism of Allan Kardec (1804–1869), or Spiritism,
as it is usually called. In Brazil, Spiritism is marked by a strong emphasis on
healing. Some of its healing practices – such as praying and laying-on hands
– derive from Kardec’s work; however, its recent development shows the
strong influence of the New Age healing practices – such as chromotherapy
and crystal therapy – both used in John of God’s Casa.63 John of God
performs also “spiritual surgery” while – as his followers firmly believe –
being in a trance and incorporating the spirit of a deceased medical doctor,
or a saint. John of God’s “operations” often include scraping the eyeball of
a patient with a kitchen knife and other controversial procedures that are
reportedly almost painless. As described in her Brazil Journal (published in
the catalogue for her 512 Hours performance),64 and also in a documentary
61
“If you don’t see the spirit [...] It’s your problem. But it’s there,”says Abramović in
one interview. See Rozalija Jovanovic and Matt Chaban, “Marina Abramovic Wanted to Open
Her Performance Art Institute in Bushwick, But Brooklin Was Too Toxic,” Observer, May 7,
2012, http://observer.com/2012/05/marina-abamovic-wanted-to-open-her-performance-
art-institute-in-bushwick-but-brooklyn-was-too-toxic-2 (accessed October 26, 2016).
62
John of God’s real name is João Teixeira de Faria.
63
About therapeutic practices in Brazilian Spiritism, see Waleska de Araújo Aureliano
and Vânia Zikán Cardoso, “Spiritism in Brazil: From Religious to Therapeutic Practice,” in
Cathy Gutierrez (ed.), Handbook of Spiritualism and Channeling (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2015),
275–293. About the healing procedures and religious beliefs in the Casa, see Casa de Dom
Inácio: Guide for English Speaking Visitors (2009), available at: http://www.friendsofthecasa.
info/A_guide_to_the_Casa_de_Dom_Inacio_V2.3.pdf (accessed October 26, 2016).
64
Marina Abramović, 512 Hours (London: Koenig Books, 2014), 73–100.
about her spiritual journey in Brazil The Space in Between,65 Abramović

assisted John of God during several visible “operations.” However, most of
the “operations” performed in the John of God’s Casa are said to be invisible
and occur with the help of a mysterious “energy,” called the “current.” It is
believed that the “current” flows through the Casa and heals the patients,
while they sit and meditate. The “current” is supposedly generated by John
of God, or more precisely, the numerous entities or spirits he incorporates.
The “current” is also said to be generated by “sons” and “daughters” of the
Casa, appointed personally by John of God. In her Brazil Journal, Abramović
claimed that John of God transmitted to her the “energy” in order to help
her “raise human consciousness through art.”66 In The Space in Between
documentary, and also in Abramović’s Brazil Journal, we are informed that
she was awarded one of the special armchairs in the vicinity of John of God’s
“throne” – among the other mediums who were there “to channel energy
and also to heal themselves in order to heal others.”67 According to these
reports, we may conclude that Abramović was most likely accepted in the
circle of the “daughters” of the Casa. Shortly upon her return from Brazil,
Abramović organized her next performance in London, titled 512 Hours.
During the 64 days of the exhibition, she and a number of her assistants were
present in the gallery, from morning until evening, supposedly generating
the “current” in the contact with the public – as it was announced in the
catalogue of the performance.68 Indeed, in one of the released photos from
this performance, we can see Abramović standing, eyes closed, surrounded
by her public in a joint meditation, most probably trying to generate the
“current,” or the “energy” – as she prefers to call it. Idea of generating
and transmitting some kind of occult “energy” was also behind Abramović’s
next group performance in New York, descriptively titled Generator (2014).
In this performance, visitors were required to be blindfolded and wear
noise-canceling headphones while walking through a completely empty
gallery. According to the press release for the performance, the “palpable
energy” and “nothingness” in the room enabled visitors to experience the
“full emptiness” described in “Tibetan teachings of oneness.”69 Again, in a
typical New Age fashion, Abramović here mixes different “exotic” spiritual
practices (Brazilian Spiritism and Modern Buddhism) and presents them
65
See The Space in Between.
66
Abramović, 512 Hours, 77.
67
Abramović, 512 Hours, 78.
68
Sopfie O’Brien, “A Resonant Emptiness,” in 512 Hours, Marina Abramović,
(London: Koenig Books, 2014), 16.
69
See the press release of the Generator exhibition on: http://www.skny.com/
exhibitions/marina-abramovic4 (accessed October 26, 2016).
254 Nikola Pešić
as her method for healing and personal growth of the stressed Western
people.
The Abramović Method has been presented so far in São Paolo (2015),
Sydney (2015), and Athens (2016), and it has been marketed as a pinnacle
of Abramović’s decades-long experience in performance. In its different
editions, it has included exercises and other elements from Cleaning the
House student workshop, The Artist is Present, 512 Hours and Generator
performances, as well as working with Transitory objects. Abramović
claims her Method and performance art generally to be the perfect tools
for “changing of consciousness” suited for everyone. Interestingly, The
Abramović Method is presented not only as a personal, but also a communal
practice,70 which may bring forth sociopolitical change. In other words,
the healing and personal growth of every single person while practicing
The Abramović Method is expected to advance the social change and also
the healing and communal spiritual growth of the people in “problematic”
areas in the world. During the presentation of her Method in Athens – a
city facing the grave economic and migrant crisis – Abramović declared:
I’d like to take it [The Abramović Method] to the Ukraine and Paris [after
the terrorist attacks in 2015]. Many governments view creativity as a luxury,
but culture is a necessity. People can change consciousness by developing
an awareness of themselves, that’s what performance does. I can only create
change with art and performance, these are my tools.
We may conclude that various New Age ideas from the domain of healing and
personal growth have significantly informed the artistic practice of Marina
Abramović, from the beginning of her career in the 1970s, to the present
moment. The Abramović Method is the result of the artist’s long-time efforts
to engage the public to “work on themselves”. Abramović often speaks of
her Method as her legacy and claims she wants to remove herself from
the public. Increasingly, she is handing over the leading of The Abramović
Method and Cleaning the House workshops to her helpers, especially to the
young choreographer and performance artist Lynsey Peisinger. What will
happen one day when Marina Abramović leaves the scene? Will we witness
a birth of another esoteric lineage and healing practice – that of Marina
Abramović? Or, will The Abramović Method be remembered “only” as a
peculiar artistic vision? We cannot do anything but wait and see.
70
This narrative of communality and togetherness is evident in the titles of the
projects in which Abramović has presented her Method. For example, the presentation in
Brazil was titled Terra Comunal (The Communal Land), and the one in Greece As One.
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821.111(73).09-31 Pynchon T.
Sergej Macura
Faculty of Philology, University of Belgrade
The Bride of Night: An Esoteric Journey in

Against the Day
The paper discusses the events experienced by Cyprian Latewood, the

only character in Pynchon’s novel who “lacks the conventional marriage
resolution demanded by the author’s pastiche” and finds peace at a
Bogomil monastery located in the seclusion of the Balkan Range, in the
midst of the First Balkan War. Owing to the laws of constructing a fictional
world in which semi-fantastic picaresque occurrences are acceptable in all
the corners of the globe, and also to the fact that there is scarce evidence of
the actual early historical development of the Bogomil sect in those parts
of the peninsula, the author could dispense with the historian’s accuracy,
thus inventing links between Orpheus, Pythagoras, Asiatic dualism, the
Bulgarian Orthodox Church, the sometime prohibited Lydian mode and
the Interdikt line across Thrace, all figuring as equally important critical
issues of the highly volatile world of early-twentieth-century espionage.
The research focuses on the so-called underground esoteric currents that
form the tributaries to Cyprian’s final decision to take holy orders, after
spending his youth as a sexually ambivalent person (Yashmeen Halfcourt
being his Euridice, from the secret society called the True Worshippers
of the Ineffable Tetractys), and serving as a politically dominated low-
ranking spy during the Great Game. As the novel revolves around the topos
of spatiotemporal bilocation and abounds in Doppelgängers, the subject
matter includes: influences of Orphism on the Pythagorean religion, Protean
identity change over longer historical spans, the “unyielding doubleness of
everything,” an alternate view of Night as preceding the creation of the
* sergej.macura@fil.bg.ac.rs

Michael Jarvis, “Very Nice Indeed: Cyprian Latewood’s Masochistic Sublime,
and the Religious Pluralism of Against the Day,” Orbit: Writing Around Pynchon 1(2)/2013,
https://www.pynchon.net/articles/10.7766/orbit.v1.2.45/, accessed June 17, 2016, par. 2.

Thomas Pynchon, Against the Day (London: Vintage, 2007), 1074.
260 Sergej Macura
universe, the Orphic descent-return myth, and the opposition of gnosis to

the totalising dominance of science and technology, all set in parodically
connoted Manichaean structures.
Thomas Pynchon’s plots have successfully defied most attempts
of summarising that enthusiastic researchers tried to come up with ever
since the publication of his first novel, V., and impenetrability into these
bifurcated fictional paths has remained one of the hallmarks of his artistic
technique to the present day. Although it may seem to carry the risk of a
superfluous effort, a basic outline of the novel’s narrative map may be found
helpful to the reader trying to probe into deeper recesses of the modelled
storyworld that spans over 1,000 pages inhabited by hundreds of characters
in turn. The basic subplots of the novel include: 1) the enthusiastic young
crew of the Inconvenience airship trying to protect humanity from fatal
political conspiracies, 2) anarchists in Colorado being assassinated by
industrialists, with the son of one of them, Christopher Traverse, winning a
Yale scholarship, which sees him off to Europe and the espionage struggles
of the early 20th century, 3) quirky and deceitful scientists and cabbalists not
sparing the effort to reach the mythical city of Shambhala, etc. It comes as
no surprise that certain characters from different subplot groups intersect,
collide, struggle or ally with their counterparts in the other strands of the
novel, thus making the text more complex to follow, but also more rewarding
to recollect phenomenologically, as the sheer mass of the material has to
be refreshed through series of analepses, prolepses and other signals that
interconnect the chapters from cover to cover.
In a way, Against the Day is a family saga, set between the Chicago
World’s Fair of 1893 and the early 1920s, which traces the adventures of
American miner Webb Traverse’s four children, Frank, Lake, Reef, and Kit,
in the still-wild West, in revolutionary Mexico, in London, Göttingen, and
the Balkans, in “Inner Asia” and outer Siberia, including the encounters
with the above-mentioned powermongers, spies, pseudoscientists, erotic
explorers and governmental agents on three continents. At Yale, Kit studies
with the physicist Willard Gibbs, whose work is preparing the way for
twentieth-century thermodynamics. In Göttingen, Kit meets the beautiful
Yashmeen Halfcourt, a disciple of the mathematician Georg Riemann,
a precursor of Einstein. The more mundane Reef has a son with a con
woman named Estrella, then abandons them for Europe, where he blunders
into Balkan politics, the “distant country of painful complexity.” Reef falls

Tom Leclair, “Lead Zeppelin: Encounters with the Unseen in Pynchon’s New
Novel”, Bookforum December 2006/January 2007, http://www.bookforum.com/archive/
dec_06/leclair.html, accessed July 20, 2016, par. 2, 3.

Pynchon, Against the Day, 956.
The Bride of Night: An Esoteric Journey in Against the Day 261
in with Yashmeen and Cyprian Latewood, a young British spy. They wander
around in or are chased out of Venice, various parts of Bulgaria, Greece,
Albania, and the former Yugoslavia, although it had not yet existed under
that very name in the Balkan section of the novel. The bisexual Yashmeen,
the homosexual Cyprian, and Reef form a decadent triangle amidst the
secret service struggle for the solution of the looming Southeast European
carveup around 1910.
The Balkan section of the novel introduces the seemingly innocuous
character of a young British spy, who used to experiment with his
homosexuality when still a shy student at Cambridge, despite showing
interest in the opposite sex as well. While stationed in Vienna, he has
an intimate affair with his superior and handler, all the while using his
sexual favours as a tool of the spying trade; when taken generically and
diachronically, the figure of Cyprian Latewood parodies the long tradition
of the British spy novel by making it look queer.
During his college days, Cyprian met the beautiful mathematician
Yashmeen Halfcourt, and though a homosexual, fell in love with her (who
also showed attraction to the same sex). She belongs to a weird spiritist
organization called the T.W.I.T. – True Worshippers of the Ineffable
Tetractys, linking her activity with the ancient Pythagoreans and their
teaching about the mysticism of numbers and about harmony. Not feeling
secure in Göttingen any longer, she flees southeast with her now husband,
Reef Traverse, and as they delve in the world of espionage on the eve of
World War I, they also maintain a fierce ménage à trois in hotels, on trains or
other less inconspicuous places. Although Cyprian swore never to set foot
in the Balkans again after his bitter experience a few years earlier, he broke
the vow in order to protect Yashmeen from harm. They are briefly joined
by Professor Sleepcoat, who does research into the music treasure of the
peninsula, especially interested in the absence of the sometime prohibited
Lydian mode. When in Bulgaria, they try to locate the Interdikt line, which
turns out to be an array of towers with antennas, presumably listening in
on signals from the ether. In fact, the stations were housing phosgene,
which could trigger a chain reaction of extreme fear in all Europe if fired
all at once along the entire line. As they leave the structure to the guardians
from the same branch office (Trieste), they encounter a secluded Orthodox
monastery of Bogomil origin, where Cyprian decides to stay and take holy
orders.

Brian McHale, “Genre as History: Pynchon’s Genre-Poaching”, in Pynchon’s Against
the Day: A Corrupted Pilgrim’s Guide, ed. Jeffrey Severs and Christopher Leise (Newark:
University of Delaware Press, 2011), 24.
262 Sergej Macura
Both in terms of his narrative role and his emotional identity, he is put
away from the main path consisting mostly of tentative happy endings to
married couples, i.e. he is the only main character followed over a number
of years that ends up single, though he pledges allegiance to another set of
beliefs, different from a relation to a spouse of flesh and blood.
We can outline the main influences of the lesser-known traditions that
come to the fore in this section of Against the Day, and it is perhaps proper
to begin with the most ancient one, whose origins are lost in the depths of
time – Orphism. Pynchon’s elaborately modelled narrative world relies on
a painstaking process of consulting numerous reference works, journals,
articles and archives, and it is the high degree of historical accuracy that
may induce the reader to believe that the supplemented details and motifs
demonstrate an equal veracity, as is the case with a truthfully constructed
spatiotemporal frame for an episode which is plainly an invention of his
imagination – having been grafted onto a fair representation of the real-
world organism, it can cloak the fantasy with the surrounding stage that
offers much realistic credibility. In such a manner, the context of the Balkan
Peninsula just before the First World War almost imperceptibly fuses with
the characters’ discovery of a Bulgarian Orthodox monastery organised on
the principles of what is ultimately the Orphic religious cult.
According to the Orphic doctrine, the primal god of Love and Light
(Eros-Phanes) sprang from an egg laid by Chronos and created the world of
gods and men; Zeus swallowed Phanes and his creation and brought a new
world into being. Dionysus, the son of Zeus, was killed and eaten by the
Titans, whom Zeus destroyed afterwards. From their soot arose the humans.
Consequently, the two natures (earthly/Titanic vs. heavenly/Dionysiac)
should receive different modes of treatment, the former suppressed, the
latter cherished. Orphic life involved abstention from meat, wine and
sex, so that the soul could achieve its true life only after the death of the
body, after a series of honestly lived incarnations. Orphism opposed many
prevalent currents in ancient Greece, and it also lacked moderation, ignoring
the Hellenic advice that man should not emulate the gods. It exalted the
afterlife, remained a personal religion, with sacred writings and not very
communal.
The eternal clashing of ether and chaos implies a never-ending dualism
in the Orphic system of belief, carried over to the early 20th century almost
essentially intact. Orpheus delivers the kings of the Gods, who preside over
the universe according to a perfect number (6); Phanes, Night, Heaven,
Cronus, Zeus, Dionysus. For Phanes is first adorned with a scepter, is the

“Orpheus,” Encyclopaedia Britannica, Micropaedia Vol. VII (Chicago, London, Toronto,
Geneva, Sydney, Tokyo, Manila and Seoul: Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc.: 1977), 593–594.
first king, and the celebrated Ericapæus. But the second king is Night, who
receives the sceptre from the father Phanes. The third is Heaven, invested
with government from Night. The fourth Cronus, the oppressor as they
say of his father. The fifth is Zeus, the ruler of his father. And the sixth of
these is Dionysus, an emotional god of fruitfulness, legends coming from
Phrygia, Asia Minor and Thrace. In the absence of verifiable historical
evidence that could confirm the activity of Orphic adherents or disprove
the sedimented tradition mostly transmitted orally and in seclusion from
public view, Pynchon locates the oasis of surviving bygone customs at an
unspecified position in the forest-covered Balkan Range of Bulgaria.
Cyprian’s journey to the Balkan Peninsula may be seen as a loosely
structured descent-return myth, somewhat similar to the journey of
Orpheus, his loss of Eurydice and his inconsolable bemoaning of the same
in the Thracian mountains – which is another instance of dualism, at
least in the nominal respect, as the layers of history keep emerging from
beneath the present-day surface that we know as Bulgaria. The fact that he
is bisexual stands out as a deviation from the mythical pattern laid down by
the Greek demigod, and Pynchon does introduce a different, less repressive
view of this sexual orientation in the novel, unlike in some of the previous
works (most notably, Gravity’s Rainbow). However, his twofold sexuality
makes for an ironic sort of exponent of the fundamental dualist essence
that informs the entire novel in diverse forms and at multiple levels. For a
better understanding of the crucial Orphic node or reference, this fragment
will serve as accumulated wisdom of the monastery’s history:
The convent belonged to a sect descended from ancient Bogomils who did
not embrace the Roman Church in 1650 with most of the other Pavlikeni
but chose instead to go underground. To their particular faith, over the
centuries, had become attached older, more nocturnal elements, going back,
it was claimed, to the Thracian demigod Orpheus, and his dismemberment
not far from here, on the banks of the Hebrus River, nowadays known as the
Maritza. The Manichæan aspect had grown ever stronger – the obligation
of those who took refuge here to be haunted by the unyielding doubleness
of everything. Part of the discipline for a postulant was to remain acutely
conscious, at every moment of the day, of the nearly unbearable conditions
of cosmic struggle between darkness and light proceeding, inescapably,
behind the presented world.

Proclus Diadochus, The Commentaries on the Timaeus of Plato, trans. Thomas Taylor
(London: printed for the author, 1820) Vol. II , 312.

Jarvis, “Very Nice Indeed,” par. 2.

264 Sergej Macura
The encapsulated history of the monastery offers just the basic information
on the brethren’s identity in the form of two perfunctory snapshots dating
back to the 17th century A.D. and (tentatively) the 7th century B.C, which
opens up a large space for filling in the two-millennium lacuna in the life
of the community. The first testified signs of Paulician activity occurred in
Armenia in the 7th century A.D, during the reign of the emperor Constantine
Pogonatus, who quickly tried to put them down.10 The sect persisted for
several centuries, always suffering from imperial suppression and their own
internal quarrels, to be finally eliminated as a military power in the late
9th century; by that time, they had established communities in many parts
of Byzantium, so that the emperors Constantine V and John I Tzimiskes
needed to displace large numbers of them to Thrace as a fortification
against the Slavs.11
The reference to Manichaeism is theologically and historically in
very good order, as Mani had founded his own religion in the 3rd century
A.D. in the Persian Empire, spreading his teachings quite uniformly both
to the east and to the west.12 Manichaeism taught that life in this world is
unbearably painful and radically evil. Inner illumination or gnosis reveals
that the soul which shares in the nature of God has fallen into the evil
world of matter and must be saved by means of the spirit or intelligence
(nous). To know one’s self is to recover one’s true self, which was previously
clouded by ignorance and lack of self-consciousness because of its mingling
with the body and with matter.13 Although it is difficult to establish the
indisputable links to Manichaeism, we can be positive that the groups such
as the Paulicians, the Bogomils and the Cathars, though set apart by at least
two centuries from one another, acquired some influences in their religious
doctrine from this very source. As far as the Paulicians are concerned, they
do share a number of relevant attitudes with the Persian prophet, obvious
after surveying just a handful of their guiding principles: The cardinal point
of the Paulician heresy is a distinction between the God who made and
governs the material world and the God of heaven who created souls, who
alone should be adored. They thought all matter bad. They rejected the
Old Testament; there was no Incarnation, Christ was an angel sent into
the world by God, his real mother was the heavenly Jerusalem. His work
consisted only in his teaching; to believe in him saves men from judgement.
10
Adrian Fortescue, “Paulicians,” The Catholic Encyclopedia Vol. 11 (New York: Robert
Appleton Company, 1911), http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/11583b.htm, accessed Nov 4
2016, section History, par. 1.
11
Fortescue, “Paulicians,” section History, par. 4.
12
“Manichaeism,” Encyclopeadia Britannica Online, https://www.britannica.com/
topic/Manichaeism, accessed June 26, 2016, par. 4.
13
“Manichaeism,” par. 9.
The true baptism and Eucharist consist in hearing his word, as in John
4:10. But many Paulicians, nevertheless, let their children be baptized by
the Catholic clergy. They honoured not the Cross, but only the book of the
Gospel. They were Iconoclasts, rejecting all pictures.14
Despite the fact that Bulgaria shares a lot of history with the Orthodox
Byzantine commonwealth over a thousand-year period, Pynchon’s
reference to the Roman Church implies the Catholic Church of Rome, not
the somewhat ambivalent adjective “Catholic” that may mean either the
whole of Christianity or, more specifically, the Roman Catholic confession.
This historical detail on the sketch of the religiuos community’s life is
also accurate, although the setting does not hold too much promise for
its realisation – the Bulgarian Tsar Kaloyan successfully negotiated union
with the Catholic Church in 1204, ending next year with his capture of
Latin Emperor of Constantinople Baldwin I, and Kaloyan’s death from
poisoning in a palace coup.15 The Roman Catholic Church resumed its
missionary activity only several hundred years later, most noticeably in
the regions of Svishtov and Plovdiv, with the town of Pavlikeni located
right between them on the north-south line perpendicular to the Balkan
Range. The abundance of undercurrent references from the domains of
mysterious and official religion alike facilitates the elusive character of
the monastery’s mere location by drawing it away from any possible exact
coordinate system, in a sort of higher-dimension mathematical projection,
not unlike the Quaternion world that Yashmeen is conversant with. The
reader can only approximate where the action is taking place, as the agents
research the music heritage around Veliko Tarnovo (and try to find the
deadly phosgene installation), pass on to the Rose Valley (Rozova Dolina)
just before harvest time, declare their mission failed, move on east through
Bulgaria and reach an arched rock formation under the name of Halkata
or the Ring, situated in the vicinity of the town of Sliven, about 100
kilometres from the Black Sea coast. Yashmeen and Reef pass through the
arch together, which will keep them in love forever, as the local youths
tell Cyprian, but he goes under the arch alone, which will cause him to
turn into the opposite sex – he becomes very uncertain when faced with
the issue of dualism in Balkan gender role expectations, remembering his
previous adventure in the peninsula when he needed to transform from an
office agent to a warrior virtually overnight. The naturally arched structure
does not appear at this plot junction utterly unannounced, as its colossal
counterpart Tushuk Tash served as an important orientation point to Kit
14
Fortescue, “Paulicians,” section Doctrine, par. 1.
15
Jonathan Bousfield and Dan Richardson, The Rough Guide to Bulgaria (London:
Rough Guides, 2002), 427–428.
266 Sergej Macura
Traverse in Chinese Turkestan a few years earlier, on his mission to prevent

the turbulent Baikal region from exploding in flames of panshamanic frenzy
(what happened was actually the Tunguska Event, still lacking a sufficiently
plausible explanation). Another instance of dualism occurs in the parallel
between the conversion of Cyprian and that of Lieutenant Dwight Prance
on the Baikal journey, when both men surrender their fate to exponents
of mystical energy with traditions lost in the pre-Christian centuries, and
often suppressed by the ruling monotheistic religious apparatus.
The demigods and culture heroes of 7th century Greece shared certain
features that may recur in the secluded monastic communities or individual
shamans: they used to come from the north, they were experts at fasting, they
had the potential to end plagues, and they could often predict the future. The
peril in the Baikal zone is announced as coming from the three Tunguska
river basins in the north and engulfing the entire Eurasian landmass in
a supernatural transcontinental blast of light and its chaotic aftermath.
Shortly after the explosion, an outsized mysterious figure of the supreme
shaman named Magyakan is reported to be roaming the taiga, intent on
consoling the shocked population. Given the enormity of time between the
classical Greek period and the more recent Bulgarian civilisational heritage,
this particular geographic point of view could naturally be dismissed, but
the novel furnishes enough evidence to support the traits of fasting and
predicting the future. It can be assumed without doubt that the Bogomil
monastery observed strict dietary rules the likes of which are essential
to every monastic order throughout Christianity, whether in its proper
or heretical form. On the trio’s approach to the monastery that they had
never seen, Cyprian is greeted by one of the monks in university-accented
English: “Welcome home,”16 a salute as surprising to the reader as it is to
the addressee, as proof that esoteric knowledge comes to the foreground
of the plot so often that it must be considered of equal importance with
the immediately observable sensory phenomena. Yashmeen herself once
received a revelatory vision of not only which sex her baby would have,
but the outlines of her face as well, which all happened in a church in the
earlier phase of their Bulgarian misison.
When Cyprian soon decides to take holy orders at the monastery, he
explains to the surprised fellow-travellers that the deepest stratum of the
brethren’s belief does not actually derive from Christian doctrine, but from
the Orphic tradition, and it is not actually the church order that the novice
espouses, but the ancient deity called Night, the daughter of Chaos. As he
reports the hegumen’s words: “For a postulant in this order, Night is one’s
betrothed, one’s beloved, one seeks to become not a bride at all really, but
16
a kind of sacrifice, an offering, to Night.”17 The all-pervading dualism of

this syncretically structured community can also be seen in the reversal
of gender roles, as he addresses his postulants before they take the Vow of
Silence: “Talking, for women, is a form of breathing. To renounce it is the
greatest sacrifice a woman can make.”18 When Cyprian is bidding farewell
to the couple with the baby, the fear of a tragic ending from the myth is
reverberating through Yashmeen’s words:
“Please – don’t look back.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“I’m serious. You mustn’t. I beg you, Cyprian.”
“Or he’ll take you below, you mean. Down to America.”19
The detail of a tattooed tetractys on the hegumen’s head forms another

dynamic motif in the narrative, as it binds Yashmeen more strongly with
the religious community she visits, and deepens her understanding of the
T.W.I.T.’s superficial practice of supposedly original Pythagorean ideas:
Yashmeen at dinner that evening, with a discreet scream of recognition, took
note of the convent’s prohibition against beans, a Pythagorean dietary rule
she remembered being also observed by the T.W.I.T. Before long she was
able to discover more of the Pythagorean akousmata – arguing strongly, she
felt, for a common origin. She could also not help noticing that the hegumen,
Father Ponko, had the Tetractys tattooed on his head.20
The monastic order’s stricter and incomparably longer observance of

the precepts sets the modern age eccentrics against a more serious and
dedicated background and casts a shadow of doubt over Yashmeen’s
previous, largely distorted and imitative experience in the neo-Pythagorean
cult struggling against the forces of darkness. The Greek philosopher’s
discoveries in the fields of mathematics, music, geography and geometry
offer a lot of opportunities for the author to weave a web of verisimilar
ties between the world of modern espionage and various underground
mystical societies whose existence is as verifiable as certain semi-legendary
events of Pythagoras’ life. That the order could follow the regulations of
both Orpheus and Pythagoras (and take on a number of other influences in
addition) looks confusing, but only at face value, since Father Ponko gives
a neat explanation to the visitors:
17
18
19
20
268 Sergej Macura
At some point, Orpheus, never comfortable in any kind of history that could
not be sung, changed identities, or slowly blended with another demigod,
Zalmoxis, who some in Thrace believed was the only true God. According to
Herodotus, who heard it from Greeks living around the Black Sea, Zalmoxis
had once been a slave of Pythagoras himself, who upon receiving his freedom
went on to pile up a good-size fortune, returned here to Thrace, and became
a great teacher of Pythagorean doctrine.21
In view of such fantastic events which can happen in these narratives,

reality fuses with fiction and, moreover, multiple versions of a myth
intersect forming the story of a unique identity cherished by the cult
members. Another possible world, in which Herodotus himself expresses
slight distrust for the legend, stating his belief that Zalmoxis “lived many
years before Pythagoras,”22 is thus precluded from disrupting the petrified
dogma of the secluded brethren. The legendary former slave prospered
through the immersion into Greek culture, rose to the kingly level among
the Thracians, built a banqueting hall and an underground chamber, from
which he would emerge every four years, making his subjects believe that
he had conquered death – the parallels with Orpheus’ descent were too
obvious to be left unabsorbed by the popular imagination.
The fictional account of the monastic order allows additional
improbable details to appear within the constructed environment, like a
visual representation of the supernatural Zalmoxis, influenced most closely
by Orthodox Christianity:
There was an icon of Zalmoxis in the church, where Yashmeen and Reef
found Cyprian after the evening service kneeling on the stone floor, before
the carved iconostasis, gazing into it as if into a cinema screen where
pictures moved and stories unfolded which he must attend to. Shadowless
faces of Zalmoxis and the saints. And depending on a kind of second sight,
a knowledge beyond light of what lay within the wood itself, of what it was
one’s duty to set free….23
The prose representation foregrounds the most relevant components of a

church’s enterior, and it could be easy to miss on the historical inaccuracy
which may have been created by Pynchon deliberately to show the
multiple traditions at work in one place – the Bogomils condemned the
material creations of men, the use of icons and the veneration of relics,
21
22
Walter Burkert, Lore and Science in Ancient Pythagoreanism, trans. Edwin L. Minar,
Jr. (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1972), 157.
23
considering them idols of gold and silver made by man’s device.24 The
phrase “shadowless faces” could indicate a different ideological point of
view conditioned by the beholders’ artistic upbringing within the Western
tradition, which had adopted three-dimensional perspective and realistic
lighting as its dominants centuries earlier. In Orthodox icons, perspective
is never unipolar, and lighting in them signifies the holy light of God whose
power the saint’s image irradiates uniformly, to which the gilded finish
of the icons contributes in the viewers’ direct material perception.25 The
dispute over the essence and use of the icons as liturgical objects in the
8th and 9th centuries seems to be echoed by the last sentence of the quote,
as the divinely inspired painters also had to undergo a strict canonical
training in order to compose icons with proper religious symbolism fit for
theological approval. From the Orthodox point of view, the possibility to
be both one and different is acceptable – the persons of the Holy Trinity
are hypostatically different, and essentially the same, whereas icons and
their paradigms are hypostatically the same and essentially different.26
Consequently, if Zalmoxis was painted as a saint in the isolated sect’s canon,
his personality and his image on the wood share the same features, but their
natures or essences do differ, being imbued with incompatible physical
properties. Pynchon may be lucidly intimating the divinely inspired activity
of icon painting, which lay obscured for centuries under the layers of the
post-Renaissance heritage of linear perspective and a pronounced use of
painting for secular purposes. The problem of incongruity may rather arise
from the fact that a monastery run by the Bogomils (even if it has advanced
well into the 20th century) would hardly ever have allowed the icons to
form part of their liturgical life without a change in doctrine that would
have deprived them of their own historical roots. However, in a fictional
world of such complexity, the frame does not have to stand opposite to
objective reality to reproduce it as a documentary mirror image – it would
even be technically impossible to project only verifiable information onto
a literary map – and the bilocationary, dualist structure of the plot itself
also calls for a more elusive and fluid environment combined from multiple
chronotopes, e.g. juvenile adventure fiction, espionage novels, fictionalised
historiography and the like. It is through this subversive kaleidoscopic
setting that characters in postsecular literature can find that “neomonastic
24
Dmitri Obolensky, The Bogomils: A Study in Balkan Neo-Manichaeism (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2004), 130–131.
25
Jugoslav Ocokoljić, „Istraživanja u ikoni“ [Research into the Icon], http://www.
jugoslavocokoljic.com/nova%20istrazivanja%20ikonopisa.htm, accessed May 19, 2016, par. 9.
26
Leonid Uspenski, „Smisao i jezik ikona“, in Smisao ikona, ed. Leonid Uspenski and
V. Loski, trans. Violeta Cvetkovska Ocokoljić and Jugoslav Ocokoljić [The Meaning and the
Language of Icons, in: The Meaning of Icons] (Beograd: Jasen, 2008), 31.
270 Sergej Macura
communities […] function as repositories for values and ways of life no

longer nurtured in the larger society and as vessels of spiritual and social
innovation.”27 Through their endeavours and dedication to seemingly
marginal narratives on the fringes of various imperial enterprises, both
Cyprian, the Chums of Chance, the Traverses and many others search for
self-fulfilment in the respective niches of motivating vocations with strong
ideological or spiritual overtones. In different ways, they all “fly toward
grace.”28
References
Bousfield, Jonathan, and Dan Richardson. The Rough Guide to Bulgaria. London:
Rough Guides, 2002.
Burkert, Walter. Lore and Science in Ancient Pythagoreanism. Trans. Edwin L. Minar,
Jr. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1972.
Fortescue, Adrian. “Paulicians.” The Catholic Encyclopedia Vol. 11. New York: Robert
Appleton Company, 1911. Accessed Nov 4, 2016. http://www.newadvent.
org/cathen/11583b.htm.
Jarvis, Michael. “Very Nice Indeed: Cyprian Latewood’s Masochistic Sublime,
and the Religious Pluralism of Against the Day.” Orbit: Writing Around
Pynchon 1(2)/2013. Accessed June 17, 2016. https://www.pynchon.net/
articles/10.7766/orbit.v1.2.45/.
Leclair, Tom. “Lead Zeppelin: Encounters with the Unseen in Pynchon’s New
Novel.” Bookforum December 2006/January 2007. Accessed July 20, 2016.
http://www.bookforum.com/archive/dec_06/leclair.html.
McClure, John A. Partial Faiths: Postsecular Fiction in the Age of Pynchon and
Morrison. Athens and London: The University of Georgia Press, 2007.
McHale, Brian. “Genre as History: Pynchon’s Genre-Poaching.” In Pynchon’s Against
the Day: A Corrupted Pilgrim’s Guide, ed. Jeffrey Severs and Christopher
Leise, 15–28. Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2011.
“Manichaeism.” Encyclopeadia Britannica Online. Accessed June 26, 2016. https://
www.britannica.com/topic/Manichaeism.
Obolensky, Dmitri. The Bogomils: A Study in Balkan Neo-Manichaeism. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2004.
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jugoslavocokoljic.com/nova%20istrazivanja%20ikonopisa.htm.
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27
John A. McClure, Partial Faiths: Postsecular Fiction in the Age of Pynchon and
Morrison (Athens and London: The University of Georgia Press, 2007), 22.
28
Proclus Diadochus. The Commentaries on the Timaeus of Plato. Trans. Thomas Taylor.
London: printed for the author, 1820.
Pynchon, Thomas. Against the Day. London: Vintage, 2007.
Uspenski, Leonid. „Smisao i jezik ikona.“ In Smisao ikona, ed. Leonid Uspenski and
V. Loski, 23–48. Trans. Violeta Cvetkovska Ocokoljić and Jugoslav Ocokoljić.
Beograd: Jasen, 2008.
929:321.61 Solomon
Olaf Stachowski
Uniwersytet Jagielloński, PhD candidate
The Art of Howling: A History of European Spirit

Evocation Practice and Its Possible Hellenistic
Roots
Introduction
When contemporary writers refer to the goetia, what is usually meant is the
corpus of magical practices associated mainly with the 17th c. manuscript
called The Lesser Key of Solomon, or the Lemegeton. While the text consists
of five parts, it is best known for the first one, entitled Liber Malorum
Spirituum seu Goetia, which has been made widely popular in the modern
esoteric community by 20th c. writers, the most influential among them in
that respect being Aleister Crowley. However, the practices outlined in the
Lemegeton have a far longer history and are a very fruitful field of research,
forming a strand of Western esotericism extant and well alive, although
transformed, until modern day since the Hellenistic period. The practice
of evocation of the spirits described in the text features prominently in
popular culture, being tightly connected with the Faust legend pervading
European culture since the late Middle Ages. The popular image of the
magician based on the Faustian archetype may be one of the reasons of
contemporary popularity of the goetic tradition; the antiquity of the text
and the resulting dissonance of worldviews, however, presents a challenge
to most modern practitioners, leading to the emergence of various widely
differing interpretations of the practice, usually set in historical or pseudo-
historical contexts founded, as it seems, primarily on the basis of the author’s
aesthetic preferences; and in consequence, breeding great confusion in
regard to the historicity and original cultural context of the tradition.
* olstach@gmail.com

Owen Davis, Grimoires. A History of Magic Books (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2009), 49.
274 Olaf Stachowski
Additionally, in the current occult community a trend of so-called

“grimoire purism” thrives, drawing attention to traditional practices of
magic and often overlooked source texts which have been largely discarded
by earlier writers aligned with the Golden Dawn and Thelema movements
due to their “folk magic” flavor and relative philosophical simplicity.
Resulting from those contrived perspectives, texts have been published
aiming to present the goetia as, among others, a method of psychological
exploration, an appropriated remnant of ancient Canaanite religion or a
shamanic burial practice of Bronze Age Thracia.
In this paper we will attempt to present the contemporary magical
practice based on the Lemegeton on its historical background, showing its
current standardization to be a relatively recent invention, the original text
being a convergence of multiple heterogenous strands of esoteric thought
that have been variously compiled and interpreted over a long period of
history. The transformations of the practice will be shown through the lens
of the various texts providing crucial elements of the ritual technique and
worldview present in the Lemegeton as well as other texts of the grimoire
genre. In the process we will attempt to divide the relatively certain
information from the speculations proposed by some authors and identify
the fields where further research of interdisciplinary communication of
findings is needed for clarification of the otherwise inconclusive data.
Contemporary practice
As is the case with the greater part of contemporary Western magic, its
Renaissance and ancient roots are mediated through the works of the Order
of the Golden Dawn and later, Aleister Crowley. The immense popularity
of the Lemegeton is, at least to some extent, to be attributed to the work of
Crowley and his successors in the field of the popularization of ceremonial
magic and the occult at large. His books, being very often recommended
for beginners in magic in handbooks not necessarily stemming from
Thelema, have had both direct and indirect, lasting impact on the shape
of the contemporary occult scene. It is important for understanding of the
current state of affairs of the goetia to note that in his Liber ABA (of which

Egil Asprem, “Contemporary Ritual Magic”, in The Occult World ed. Christopher
Partridge (New York: Routledge, 2015), 5.

Aleister Crowley, “The Initiated Interpretation of Ceremonial Magic” in The Book of
The Goetia of Solomon The King (Inverness: Society For The Propagation Of Religious Truth,
1904), 3.

Carroll Runyon, The Book of Solomon’s Magick, (Silverado: Church of the Hermetic
Science Incorporated, 1996), 41ff.

Jake Stratton-Kent, Geosophia: The Argo of Magic I (Dover: Scarlet Imprint, 2010).
The Art of Howling: A History of European Spirit Evocation Practice... 275
the very popular Magick in Theory and Practice is the third chapter of four in
total) he refers to “the goetia” several times, always meaning explicitly the
first book of the Lemegeton – the Liber Malorum Spirituum seu Goetia. His
approach, however, is different from what the text itself proposes – it is put
into the wider context of magic as taught by Crowley and strongly related
to the idea of the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel,
a concept lifted from the text of the Book of Abramelin, first translated
in 1897 by his older contemporary Mathers. As in the Book of Abramelin,
Crowley advises the occult student to first and foremost seek the initiation
bestowed by one’s Guardian Angel through the completion of a long ritual
ordeal, first exemplified by The Book of Abramelin, and in a version devised
by Crowley published under the title of Liber Samekh for the use first of
his student Frank Bennett (mentioned in the incipit of the document by
his magical motto, Frater Progradior), and then his magical order, the A.:
A.:. Only after the attainment of the Knowledge and Conversation was the
student to attempt an evocation of the spirits of the goetia, the reasons for
this being twofold: firstly, without the spiritual authority of the Angel one
was supposed to be in danger while trying to contact infernal spirits; and
secondly, the evocation itself was performed, by the example of Abramelin,
not for personal gains but in order to support the practitioner’s spiritual
growth.10 The second important idea in Crowley’s approach to the topic
came from an elaboration of the aforementioned interpretation of the work
with infernal spirits as being primarily work with one’s unconscious mind,
as elaborated in his Initiated Interpretation of Ceremonial Magick, published
as an introduction to his 1904 edition of the Ars Goetia (notably lacking
other books of which the Lesser Key of Solomon originally consisted).11
This fundamentally psychological mode of understanding is possibly best
encapsulated in Crowley’s own words:
If, then, I say, with Solomon: “The Spirit Cimieries teaches logic,” what I
mean is: “Those portions of my brain which subserve the logical faculty

Compare: Aleister Crowley, Book Four or Liber ABA (San Francisco: Weiser Books,
1997), 116, 180.

Abraham von Worms, The Book of Abramelin: A New Translation – Revised and
Expanded, edited by Georg Dehn (Lake Worth, Fla.: Ibis Press, 2015).

Aleister Crowley, Liber Samekh, accessed May 8 2017, http://www.sacred-texts.
com/oto/lib800.htm.

Keith Richmond, Progradior and the Beast. Frank Bennett & Aleister Crowley (London:
Neptune Press, 2004), 145.
10
Aleister Crowley, Magick Without Tears (Tempe, Az.: New Falcon Publications,
1991), 299.
11
Crowley, The Book of The Goetia of Solomon The King.
276 Olaf Stachowski
may be stimulated and developed by following out the process called ‘The
Invocation of Cimieries.’12
This approach had put the rituals of the Lemegeton in the wider system of
modern ceremonial magic based on the Golden Dawn system and Crowley’s
elaborations, which through the popularity of his books as introductory
reading for many individuals interested in the practice of western esotericism
have made the goetia fit its current image, proliferated by many post-war
writers basing their work on the Crowley and Mathers editions of the text,
even if not directly embracing their philosophies; among the more popular
Lon Milo DuQuette,13 Carroll Runyon14 or writers popular with the left-
hand path practitioners such as S. Connolly15 or Michael Ford16 may be
mentioned. While the rituals described in those books vary to a degree,
their general format and core understanding of the practice remains in all
cases heavily influenced by Crowley, and through his mediation, the Golden
Dawn. The rituals recommended as preliminaries to the conjuration proper
are almost always the standard Golden Dawn operations of banishing and
invocation (sometimes with the original names substituted for others
that are more aesthetically or ideologically appealing to the author, as in
Ford), while the more traditional practices such as fasting and prayer are
almost universally ignored. This standardization allowed for the corpus of
goetic practices to fit more easily into the general image of contemporary
ceremonial magic, undoubtedly facilitating its popularization. Although
in recent years several annotated editions of the most important earlier
texts have been published,17 they are usually more focused on thedatingof
particular manuscripts than the historical changes of the practice itself.
The Lemegeton
There are over a hundred different manuscript versions of the Clavicula
genre extant in European libraries, differing greatly in content.18 The
versions on which the most popular Mathers-Crowley and subsequently
12
Crowley, “The Initiated Interpretation of Ceremonial Magic”, 3.
13
Lon Milo DuQuette, Aleister Crowley’s Illustrated Goetia (Scottsdale, Ari.:The
Original Falcon Press, 2011).
14
Runyon, The Book of Solomon’s Magick.
15
S. Connolly, Daemonolatry Goetia (Arvada, Co.: DB Publishing, 2010).
16
Michael Ford, Luciferian Goetia (s.l; Lulu.com, 2007).
17
Compare: Joseph Peterson, The Lesser Key of Solomon (York Beach, Me.: Weiser
Books, 2001); Stephen Skinner and David Rankine (eds.) The Goetia of Dr. Rudd (London:
Golden Hoard Press, 2007).
18
Robert Mathiesen, ‘The Key of Solomon: Towards a Typology of the Manuscripts’,
Societas Magica Newsletter 17 (2007): 1.
most modern editions are based are English language manuscripts dating
mostly from the 17th c. and preserved in the Sloane collection of the British
Library.19 The text of the Mathers-Crowley and the Peterson editions based
on those sources will serve as the basis of a general analysis of the contents
that will be later traced back in history to their possible origins and routes
of transmission. However, it is important to note that the selection of those
particular versions of the MSs to the exclusion of others on the basis of their
availability for English speakers became one of the unintentional reasons
behind the modern uniformity of the practice.
The text is a compilation composed of five parts of earlier origin. The
first book of the collection, titled Liber Malorum Spirituum seu Goetia, is
of main interest to this paper. The others deal with different systems of
evocation of spirits, the attainment of visions and construction of magical
images granting the user knowledge and eidetic memory, all connected by
the Solomonic legend. Books second to fifth are mentioned together by
Agrippa in 153120 and it is quite probable that the Liber Malorum Spirituum
has been in the collection of abbot Johannes Trithemius, Agrippa’s mentor,
who died in 1516.21 In the Antipalus Maleficarum, he refers to it as “the key
made by Abano.”22 Although this alleged authorship as such is very unlikely,
it points us towards the Heptameron of Peter de Abano, which indeed seems
to be one of the more important sources of the Goetia, providing it with a
large part of the ritual technique. The relationship of the texts and further
sources will be touched upon in more detail in the following sections of the
paper.
The Ars Goetia is composed of three distinct parts, opening with the
spirit list, each entry composed of a seal, a name, rank, number of legions of
subservient spirits and a description; an instruction on the designs of ritual
implements then follows (among others containing the triangle of Solomon,
in later works called often the triangle of manifestation, of which there is
no mention in other popular grimoires, but which has become a staple of
evocatory practices because of the 20th c. popularization of the Lemegeton)
ending with a series of conjurations and prayers to be used during the whole
ritual. It seems to us that the clearest way to analyze the text is to divide it
into three strands: the Solomonic legend forming the mythic background
of the practice, the spirit catalogue and the ritual technique. It is important
to note, however, that these strands are only a research operationalization
and do not reflect a strict historical division of traditions. As will be shown
19
Mathiesen, “The Key”, 4.
20
Skinner and Rankine, The Goetia of Dr. Rudd, 63.
21
22 Skinner and Rankine, The Goetia of Dr. Rudd, 31.
278 Olaf Stachowski
in the next part of this paper, the techniques and concepts forming all three
of those strands are themselves varied and come from heterogenous genres
of texts from different areas and periods of history. This variety of sources
should be kept in mind while attempting to understand the cultural context
of the Lemegeton and other grimoires, especially in the light of some popular
authors attempting to grant credibility to their renditions of those texts by
ascribing to them an ancient and continuous line of transmission.
The mythical background granting the practice its authority and
credibility – the legend of King Solomon constraining infernal spirits
to build the Temple of Jerusalem with a magic ring given to him by the
archangel Michael,23 was widespread both in European medieval legend and
Islamic storytelling tradition, where it was a popular staple of entertaining
stories such as those of The Thousand Nights and One Night.24 The idea of
Solomon as the archetypal magician, pious man and God-appointed king
is rooted in the Jewish tradition, having gained wider acceptance even
before the Christian era through the popularization of Jewish beliefs in
the Roman Empire in the first centuries CE; one example of such usage
outside strictly Judaist context may be found in Thorndike’s account of
an artifact depicting Hecate on one side and Solomon on the other.25 The
popularity of the concept in oral tradition and its basic coherence with the
mainstream Catholic worldview made Solomon a fitting authority to which
the authorship of various works could have been ascribed, as it was done
similarly with various ancient and Arabic authors in medieval Europe. It
is also notable that the widespread distribution of the myth among the
followers of Judaism, Christianity and Islam probably allowed for an easier
transmission of texts ascribed to him in the region of the Mediterranean.
The spirit catalogue of the Liber Malorum Spirituum seu Goetia is
similar to others extant in Europe at the time; one should point to Johannes
Weyer’s Pseudomonarchia Daemonum as probably sharing the same common
source as the Ars Goetia. The Pseudomonarchia, published as an appendix
to Weyer’s De praestigiis daemonum in 1563 in Basel, contains a list of 69
demons that is largely identical to that of the Ars Goetia. Four names from
the Goetia are missing (Vassago, Seere, Dantalion and Andromalius), while
one other is introduced (Pruflas).26 Weyer identifies his source text as Liber
Officiorum spirituum, seu Liber dietus Empto. Salomonis, de principibus &
23
Davis, Grimoires, 13.
24
Sarah Iles Johnston, “The Testament of Solomon from Late Antiquity to the
Renaissance”, in The Metamorphosis of Magic from Late Antiquity to the Early Modern Period,
ed. Jan Bremmer and Jan Veenstra, (Leuven: Peeters, 2002), 42.
25
Lynn Thorndike, Magic And Experimental Science II (New York: Macmillan Co,
1923), 279.
26
regibus daemoniorum, a work mentioned in a 1508 list of books contained in

Trithemius’ library.27 A probable source text of the Liber Officiorum is the
Livre des Esperitz, a 15th or 16th c. French grimoire containing only a spirit
list without any rituals or prayers, the contents of which are dated to the
13th c.28 This text mentions 49 spirits and describes 46 of those in more
detail; 34 of these are found in the Goetia too.29 Before that relatively late
date however, it seems to be impossible to trace the precise origin of most of
the names used; while some may be clarified in future research, due to the
overwhelming variety of spellings used by the grimoire manuscript copyists
many names may be untraceable to any certain origin whatsoever.
The technique presented in the Liber Malorum Spirituum consists
of a definite ritual structure, a collection of specifically designed ritual
implements and spoken conjurations intended for use in particular moments
of the ceremony. The completeness and cohesion of the material is much
greater than in most medieval grimoires, and there is a more definite order
to the use of kabbalistic names of God and geometric designs; the sequence
of names surrounding the Circle and extracted in a descending order from
the Tree of Life as used by Lurianic kabbalists may be mentioned as the
prime example.30 The rituals are based on invocations of God and angels
in order to receive the power to constrain demons. This approach to magic
doesn’t involve making any kind of contracts (or “pacts”) with the spirit
summoned, since it is commanded by the authority of God, in similarity to
the Catholic ritual of exorcism, which has been a major influence on spirit
evocation magic of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance.31
To analyze the sources of the techniques of the Liber Malorum
Spirituum, we shall begin with the text from which most conjurations
were adapted, the Heptameron, or Magical Elements of Peter de Abano and
its sources, already mentioned in this paper as incorrectly suspected by
Agrippa of being the author of the Goetia. Later we will move to a brief
sketch of the influences of Islamic astrology and astral magic, and then
to the Greek text that is the most probable direct source of the Latin and
vernacular Lemegeton manuscripts, the Hygromanteia.32
27
28
Jean-Patrice Boudet, “Les who’s who démonologiques de la Renaissance et
leurs ancêtres médiévaux”, Médiévales 44 (2003), Résumé, accessed May 8, 2017, http://
medievales.revues.org/1019.
29
30
Compare the picture of the circle in Peterson, The Lesser Key of Solomon, 42.
31
Davis, Grimoires, 55, 57.
32
Mathiesen,”The Key”, 5.
280 Olaf Stachowski
The Heptameron and its sources

The Heptameron, or Magical Elements of Peter de Abano, a Philosopher,
is a concise instruction in ritual magic detailing a complete system of
conjurations, geometric designs and angelic names to be used in order
to summon aerial spirits connected with the seven days of the week, and
consequentially the seven visible planets. Although its authorship by Peter
de Abano has been contested due to its dissimilarity compared to other
works of the author, there are of now no convincing propositions of other
possible authors. It is also notable that de Abano has been rumored to be
in possession of the philosopher’s stone and to use magic, on the account
of which he has been accused of heresy and tried, although died before the
end of the trial in 1315 or 1316.33
To trace Abano’s sources, we will follow Peterson’s remark34 that the
Heptameron is greatly indebted to the Sepher Raziel (a comparison of the
angelic names used in the Heptameron and in the sixth book of Sepher Raziel
will show great similarity), a practical kabbalistic text written at the latest
in the 13th c. (in 1259 a translation of the text from Latin into Castillian
was ordered by Alfonso X35). Considering Abano’s translation of the works
of Abraham ibn Ezra, a 12th c. Jewish philosopher and poet from Spain, the
connection seems even more probable.
The Sepher Raziel is divided into seven books dealing with various
subjects, among which are astrology and astral magic, occult properties of
plants and animals and lists of angels divided between the seven heavens.
A strong influence of early kabbalistic cosmology is notable, and the
described structure of the heavens probably stems from the tradition of
Merkavah mysticism, which has developed since the Hellenistic period
to the beginnings of the second millennium CE. The astrological content
of the book is, however, more similar to the Arabic texts dealing with the
topic, which may be an artifact of the syncretic atmosphere of medieval
Spain, if the text indeed was composed in that area, which is quite probable
considering its 1259 translation. Skinner also suggests that the structure
of the text may have been influenced by Byzantine Greek culture, bearing
33
G. Tsoucalas, M. Karamanou and G.Androutsos, “The eminent Italian scholar
Pietro d’Abano (1250–1315) and his contribution in anatomy”, Italian Journal of Anatomy
and Embryology 116 (2011): 52–55.
34
Joseph Peterson, ed., Peter de Abano: Heptameron, or Magical Elements (Digital
edition by Joseph Peterson, 1998), accessed May 8, 2017, http://www.esotericarchives.com/
solomon/heptamer.htm.
35
Stephen Skinner, Don Karr (eds.), Sepher Raziel: Liber Salomonis (London: Golden
Hoard Press, 2010), 21.
more similarities to the Magical Treatise of Solomon than to contemporary

Western European grimoires.36
The Islamic influence on the Western occult is an extremely extensive
topic by itself. The Greek philosophy and various Hermetic teachings that
have been lost in the West with the fall of the Western Roman Empire were
preserved and transformed in different ways in the Byzantine Empire and
the Islamic world. The translation of Arabic astrological texts in the 11th
and 12th c. through scholarly centers in Spain and Sicily were instrumental
in renewing European interest in the topic,37 together with it bringing an
extensive amount of lore on the so-called astral magic (using astrological
concepts and cosmology for the performance of various magical workings)
and construction of talismans. The attributions of various natural
substances, times etc. to elemental, planetary and zodiacal powers, so
prevalent in European magical practice, especially from the Renaissance on,
are largely adapted from Arabic writings, among which the best known and
one of the most important was the Picatrix, a partial Latin translation of the
Ghâyat al-Hakîm, dating to the middle of the 11th c. and translated, like the
Sefer Raziel, by the order of Alfonso X in the 13th c.38 The symbols, magical
images and attributions described in the text and in later European works
deriving from it are a comprehensive compilation of earlier “(…) Arabic
texts on Hermeticism, Sabianism, Ismailism, astrology, alchemy and magic
produced in the Near East in the ninth and tenth centuries A.D.”39 It is
important that the philosophical underpinnings of the work and its source
works are Hellenistic Hermetic writings on the aforementioned topics.40
The Byzantine influence on Western magical practices is relatively
little discussed, especially in non-academic works on the subject. The
Byzantine texts were rather scarcely available in Western Europe before the
fall of Constantinople in 1453, and after that date, when the knowledge of
Greek among Western intellectuals rose greatly due to the arrival of many
Byzantine scholars in northern Italy, the focus of renewed interest was
primarily on the ancient Greek learning rather than Byzantine scholarship
as such. The Renaissance magical texts have referred mostly to their ancient
hermetic sources and the Kabbalah, and for this reason the texts of these
traditions have been more widely researched in the scope of their influence
36
Skinner and Karr, Sepher Raziel: Liber Salomonis, 23.
37
Richard Kieckhefer, Magic in the Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1990), 118.
38
John Greer and Christopher Warnock, trans., The Picatrix. Liber Rubeus Edition
(Adocentyn Press 2010), 11.
39
David Pingree, “Some of the Sources of the Ghâyat al-hakîm”, Journal of the
Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, 43 (1980): 1–15.
40
Greer and Warnock, Picatrix, 12.
282 Olaf Stachowski
on European magic. However, it is very probable that among the texts

brought to Italy by the migrating scholars was the Hygromanteia,41 or The
Magical Treatise of Solomon, composed no later than in the 15th c.42 It seems
to be the most probable source text of the Solomonic grimoires analyzed in
this paper, as proposed by Robert Mathiesen.43 Among the crucial influences
of the Hygromanteia are important parts of the infernal hierarchy44 and
ways of construction of ritual implements such as the seal parchments,45
a black-handled knife and other tools.46 Very similar tools are described
in the Magical Treatise of Solomon in far more detail than in the later Latin
works, among which is the Liber Malorum Spirituum. Further exploration of
the influence of Byzantine culture on Western esotericism through this and
other similar texts may prove to be a fruitful field of research.
To summarize, the 17th c. Lemegeton is composed of the mythological
background and two key elements: the spirit catalogue and the technique.
The spirit list may be traced back directly to the Livre des Esperitz, while its
older origins need further research and verification, which is made quite
difficult by the lack of consistent orthography of the presented names
as well as copious scribes’ mistakes accumulated over the centuries. The
technique, however, forming the core of the practice, is a result of several
syntheses of various magical traditions that have occurred between the 11th
and the 16th c. CE, mostly in Spain in the late Middle Ages and in northern
Italy in the Renaissance. The two most direct sources of the technique are
the Hygromanteia, a key example of Byzantine compilation and reworking of
the occult philosophies stemming from the first half of the first millennium
CE, and the Heptameron. Among the main sources of the Heptameron,
the Sepher Raziel and the Picatrix are most prominent. The Sepher Raziel
in turn derives from various strands of Jewish mysticism, among which
the Merkavah tradition is the most evident, and shows adaptation of lore
from the Picatrix or other texts of the same Islamic astrological and magical
tradition. The common source of all those texts is the eclectic tradition
of Hermetic and Neoplatonic thought of late antiquity. While the direct
influence of these worldviews on Renaissance thought through such texts
as the Corpus Hermeticum is well known, it is notable that the main notions
from which the grimoire tradition have emerged are probably mostly
connected to the same original sources.
41
Ioannis Marathakis, trans.; Stephen Skinner, ed., The Magical Treatise of Solomon,
or Hygromanteia (London: Golden Hoard Press 2011), 12.
42
43
44
Marathakis, Skinner, The Magical Treatise of Solomon, or Hygromanteia, 12–13.
45
Marathakis, Skinner, The Magical Treatise of Solomon, or Hygromanteia, 79.
46
Marathakis, Skinner, The Magical Treatise of Solomon, or Hygromanteia, 12–13.
Hellenistic roots
When searching for the origins of the goetic tradition, The Testament of
Solomon cannot be omitted. Written in the period from the 1st to the 3rd
c. CE,47 the text provides the reader with a list of spirits causing different
illnesses and other problems and ways of constraining them by appropriate
names of angels, presented within a narrative of Solomon praying to
God for a way to control demons hindering the building of the Temple of
Jerusalem.48 It is notable that in the approach of the Testament, demons
of Jewish, Greek, Gnostic and other pedigrees are mentioned together,
providing a very early example of one of the most striking characteristics
of the European spirit catalogues – the all-inclusiveness of the myths of
various cultures, stemming from the eclecticism of Hellenistic interpretatio
graeca. Some of the key elements of the Solomonic tradition also have
documented ancient counterparts. An especially important source is the
Papyri Graecae Magicae, where among other techniques protective circles
are used and long lists of names of divinities, magical words and strings of
syllables prescribed to be recited to gain authority over a spirit.49The topic
of the sources of those practices and their ways of transmission is however
beyond the scope of this paper.
Since earlier folk magic traditions are among the many sources of the
PGM and ancient Greek magical philosophies at large, it has been proposed
by Jake Stratton-Kent in his two-volume Geosophia or the Argo of Magic50
that the goetia stems from even earlier sources in archaic Greek religion and
ultimately from ancestor veneration and hero worship practices, as well as
the cult of chthonic deities (as opposed to the Olympian deities supposedly
more popular in the writings of the learned elite). These in turn may
have been a Greek adaptation of archaic Thracian or Pelasgian religions,
influenced by other belief systems of the Bronze Age Mediterranean. While
the theory is very suggestive and points to fields of possibly fruitful future
research, the lack of references for particular statements in the series makes
it quite difficult to treat it as a valid academic source. The sheer amount of
material discussed by Stratton-Kent makes it anyway suitable to mention it
in this paper. It is our hope that future research of less speculative nature
will be conducted in this interesting field.
47
Johnston, Sarah Iles, “The Testament of Solomon from Late Antiquity to the
Renaissance”, 37.
48
Frederick Conybeare, “The Testament of Solomon,” The Jewish Quarterly Review,
11 (1898), 16.
49
Compare: Dieter Betz, ed., The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation (Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1986).
50
Jake Stratton-Kent, Geosophia.
284 Olaf Stachowski
Conclusions
The aim of this paper was to show that the currently very standardized
and quite popular goetic practice is essentially a 20th century phenomenon,
while the texts from which it stems provide a much wider and more
varied corpus of techniques, ideas and worldviews, compiled in a bricolage
manner by practitioners as well as professional scribes over the period of
several centuries. In a general overview of the history of the text and its
constitutive parts the transforming nature of the European esoteric milieu
is shown quite clearly. Since the rapidly developing research on medieval
and early modern ritual magic provides us with a lot of new data and a
better understanding of the problem, it may prove to be important to also
point to the fields that may need further exploration by the specialists;
among those, the relatively little-known and possibly very important field
is the importance of Byzantine magical and philosophical culture in the
formation of European esoteric thought. Also, the possible archaic roots
of the practice may be an interesting field of research, as has already been
said, however, it may prove to be extremely difficult due to the lack of
written sources from the period.
References
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CIP – Каталогизација у публикацији
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CONFERENCE of Central and Eastern European Network for the

Academic Study of Western Esotericism (2 ; 2018 ; Belgrade)
Esotericism, Literature and Culture in Central and Eastern Europe /
CEENASWE 2 (Second Conference of Central and Eastern European
Network for the Academic Study of Western Esotericism), Belgrade ,
2018 ; edited by: Nemanja Radulović. – Beograd : Faculty of Philology,
2018 (Beograd : Čigoja štampa). – 285 str. ; 24 cm
Tiraž 300. – Napomene i bibliografske reference uz tekst. –

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ESOTERICISM, LITERATURE AND CULTURE

IN CENTRAL AND EASTERN EUROPE

Picture on the cover

As is well known, the ESSWE organisation, one of the handful of those

19th-century source research, is a necessary contribution to the histories

to this region is of particular interest for future research. More precisely: is

Esotericism and Visionary Mysticism in Medieval

The presence of characteristic elements of esotericism and visionary

from late antique Gnostic traditions (Manichaean or other) or as a merger of

regarded and denounced Paulicianism as a revival of Manichaeism, attributing

and narratives preserved in pseudepigraphic literature could from time to

in the period of the formation of Slavo-Byzantine Orthodox theology and

of Abraham, are extant only in Slavonic, whereas others such as the

This strand is evident in some of the reports concerning the practices

addition, Euthymius of the Periblepton furnishes a distorted polemical

of advanced theological teachings and a kind of a dualist historia arcana,

Another promising area which can yield clues to the provenance of

apocalyptic) literature (frequently subjected to inverse – usually presented

Garsoïan Nina. “Byzantine Heresy. A Reinterpretation.” Dumbarton Oak Papers 25

Porfir’ev, I.Ja. Apokrifičeskie skazanija o vethozavetnyh licah i sobytijah. Kazan: v

Hermes Trismegist and the Image of the

The image of the scientist and magician in the Orthodox

was noted by M.Speranskij and A.Sobolevskij) has been known at the

Moreover, Kurbskij studied philosophy of Aristotle and John of Damascus.

that is associated with Shariia’s translation activity belonged to the

the Byzantine calendar was considered to be primary at that time. “The

Hermes Trismegist in the cultural intellectual

It is noteworthy that we are also aware of one proto-alchemical

reference to Hermes Trismegist “Hermes Trismegist and Pythagoras” from

Sobolevskij, Aleksej. Perevodnaja literatura Moskovskoj Rusi XVI–XVII vv., Sankt-

The initial reception of Paracelsus in

This paper is going to focus on evaluating the very beginnings of the

1. Bavor Rodovský of Hustiřan

Paracelsus and his work, which many critics of Paracelsus ignored or

can be found, as well as its connection with astrology. Pseudoparacelsus

The strategy, which consisted of an effort to arouse the curiosity of

2. Laurentius Špán of Spanov

According to Špán’s own testimony, it is clear that he used Galenic

word “Galenus.” Špán’s poetic ambitions are expressed by a laurel wreath,

however, are correct in drawing attention to Špán’s criticism of Paracelsus’

predominant (Olomouc, Silesia, RBO). Both had a broad range of interests.

Michael Sendivogius as a Literary Anti-hero

The real Sendivogius was born in Poland (probably in Cracow) and

1664, the Englishman-Cosmopolite was identified with the elusive Scottish

was modelled on Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s Zanoni.27 There are indeed many

A few years after Dziekoński’s novel, Sendivogius appeared in a

he finally discovered the secret of the Philosophers’ Stone, he understood it

Based on historical research – far more sound than Szymanowski’s

Literary works about Michael Sendivogius were also written for

Christian Rosenkreutz is mentioned during conversation but they do not

Finally, a mention should be made of some recent novels in which

alchemist, pursuing a dream which cannot be realised. As it often happens,

The Modern Adept: A Novel on Alchemy and Its

In 1810 a curious book appeared in Vienna: its language was Hungarian

Empress’ noble purpose was to foster the cultural education of young

himself an accomplished translator. He left behind an incredible amount

From the interesting article of a bibliographer of 18th-century French

translation. Leprince de Beaumont was a successful writer of children’s

occult narrative referring to alchemy, the Freemasons and the Rosicrucians.

and the historiography of the Art. As Sándor Eckhardt also summarized,

lodge of the Berlin or Vienna lodges, but as an offspring of the Warsaw

Schaller Elliot P. “Jeanne Marie Le Prince de Beaumont (1711-–1780): Biographical