1913 · CLOSE READING
The Book of Lies
The Book of Lies (1913), PDF p. 137
Original page
Enlarge ↗
Highlights use the original PDF text layer. OCR-only matches may not be visible on the scan.
Transcription
Download text ↓raw extractionoriginal embedded textReview: unreviewed
**Mr. Aleister Crowley has set his metrical skill
to the congenial business of a rhyming symbolic
legend. He has succeeded uncommonly well. The
line runs easily; there is loads of colour and poetic
force about it, and the atmosphere of a remote,
almost religious purpose; while Mr. Crowley has
kept a tight hold on the archaic diction, he has
used it happily, and successfully avoided the tricks
and concéits that one might have expectedin such
a venture.”—Manchester Guardian.
Hail Mary. 1s.
‘Thisis a garland of some fifty or sixty devo-
tional hymns to the Virgin, in which the author,
while not exceeding the bounds of Catholic ortho-
doxy, fills his verses with quaint and charming
conceits, very muchin the style of the‘ metaphysi-
cal’ poets of the seventeenth century, Indeed, in
turning over the pages of ‘ Amphora,’ as the little
volume was entitled when published ‘anonymously
two years ago, by Burns and Oates, we feel them
to be the work of a recipient of the tradition of
Vaughan the Silurist, George Herbert, and Cra-
shaw, although Mr. Crowleyis smooth where they
are rugged, plain where they are perplexing.
‘*These poems indicate a mind full of earnest
aspiration towards his spiritual Queen, a mind of
an engaging zaiveté, untroubled by the religious
and philosophical problems which weary more com-
plex intelligences. This little work can be cordially
recommended to Catholic readers.”—Paris Daily
Mail.
“We crave for poetry in England, but we do not
like poets, unless they are exceeding conventional
when we can laureate them, becausein the national
search for whatis called character we condemn the
vagaries which are the attributes of genius. Every
school-girl reads Shelley, yet how badly we treated
him! Byronis not allowed to rest in Poet’s Corner.
We treated Swinburne as if he were Crippen. And
we have treated Mr. Aleister Crowleyin much the
same way. Yet Mr. Crowleyis one of our few real
poets. He has written thingsin ‘Ambergris’ which
will never die. Some years ago a little book of verse
appeared, called ‘Amphora,’ which being anony-
129 i
Page provenance & review flags
Stable page ID: 7446cac22f12a44e0adc6157:p00137
Line breaks are preserved. Reading order and OCR accuracy may need review.
Printed page label has not been verified.
- No automated review flags. This does not establish transcription accuracy.