1929 · CLOSE READING
Confessions of Aleister Crowley
Confessions of Aleister Crowley (1929), PDF p. 527
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527
years --- but even if the central heating had been the flames of hell itself, I doubt whether I should
have been warm. Night after night I sat, all through, rigid as a corpse, and icier; the whole of my
life concentrated in two spots; the small section of my brain which was occupied in the work, and
my right wrist and fingers. I remember with absolute clearness that my consciousness appeared to
start from a perfectly dead forearm.
The book is written in prose, yet there is a formal circumscription more imminent than anything
which would have been possible in poetry. I limited myself by making a point of dealing thoroughly
with a given subject in a single page. It was an acute agony, similar to that of Asana, to write, and
the effort removed me so far from normal human consciousness that there was something indicibly
ghastly in its unnaturalness when I got into bed in full daylight in the hope of acquiring a particle of
warmth from the complacent Camel.
I may now deal thoroughly with the complex and astounding incident which I promised to describe
above. The Camel was a doctor of pharmacy, employed in pathological analysis, and later in
manufacturing perfumery. She had never had any interest in Magick or any similar study, and I had
not attempted to rouse it. One weekend she was lying on a mattress on the floor smoking opium,
the apparatus having been lent us by a famous chiropractor who had bought it during a trip to Cuba,
out of curiosity. I was sitting at my desk, working. To my surprised annoyance, the Camel suddenly
began to have visions. I shut off my hearing in the way I have learnt to do; but after some five
minutes babbling she pierced my defences by some remark concerning an egg under a palm tree.
This aroused me instantly, for the last instruction given to myself and Soror Virakam was to go to
the desert and look for just that thing. I saw then a kind of continuity between those visions and
these. It was as if the intelligence communicating were taking up the story at the point at which it
had been dropped. Of course, it might have been a mere coincidence. But that point could be easily
settled by cross-examination. I began to ask questions. The Camel said that someone, whom she
called "the Wizard", wished to communicate with me. I am not a spiritualist who accepts any
message as of divine origin. I insist on knowing with whom I am talking, and on his showing such
qualities of mind that the communication will benefit me.
Now, as it happened, I had a test question to my hand. I had taken the name Baphomet as my motto
in the O.T.O. For six years and more I had tried to discover the proper way to spell this name. I
knew that it must have eight letters, and also that the numerical and literal correspondences must
be such as to express the meaning of the name in such a ways as to confirm what scholarship had
found out about it, and also to clear up those problems which archaeologists had so far failed to
solve. Here, then, was an
{832}
ideal test of the integrity and capacity of the Camel's Wizard. I flung the question in his face. "If you
possess the superior knowledge which you claim, you can tell me how to spell Baphomet!" The
Camel knew nothing of the Hebrew and little of the Greek. She had no idea that a conventional
system existed by which one could check the accuracy of any given orthography. Her Wizard
answered my question without hesitation. "Wrong," said I, "there must be eight letters." "True," he
answered, "there is an R at the end." The answer struck me in the midriff. One theory of the name
is that it represents the words Beta alpha phi eta mu eta tau epsilon omicron sigma , the baptism of
wisdom; another, that it is a corruption of a title meaning "Father Mithras". Needless to say, the
suffix R supported the latter theory. I added up the word as spelt by the Wizard. It totalled 729.
This number had never appeared in my Cabbalistic working and therefore meant nothing to me. It
however justified itself as being the cube of nine. The word chi eta phi alpha sigma ,1 the mystic
title given by Christ to Peter as the cornerstone of the Church, has this same value. So far, the
Wizard had shown great qualities! He had cleared up the etymological problem and shown why the
Templars should have given the name Baphomet to their so-called idol. Baphomet was Father
Mithras, the cubical stone which was the corner of the Temple.
I therefore felt justified in concluding that the Wizard really possessed sufficient intelligence to
make it worth my while to listen to him. I hastily recorded the dialogue to that point. My next
question inquired his name. He replied "Amalantrah". I added this up. This time the result was
conclusive. Its value is 729. Already he had shown me that I, in my office as Baphomet, was the rock
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