In Theurgy: Theory and Practice, P. D. Newman sets out to redefine the accepted historical trajectory of theurgy, tracing its roots far beyond the Chaldean Oracles of the second century and positioning it firmly within the framework of Homeric tradition. Through meticulous research and innovative interpretation, Newman draws a clear line connecting the esoteric practices of the ancient Greek world with the later Neoplatonic traditions, offering an eye-opening study that recontextualizes the origins of Western esotericism.
Newman’s approach is both ambitious and compelling. The book opens by exploring the linguistic and metrical commonalities between the Chaldean Oracles and Homer’s Odyssey and Iliad. By emphasizing that the Oracles were composed in dactylic hexameter—the same meter employed by Homer—Newman establishes a crucial link between the mystical poetry of the Chaldeans and the epic storytelling of the Homeric age. This insight alone is groundbreaking, suggesting that the theurgical practices of soul ascent (anabasis) and descent (katabasis) described in the Oracles might not have been foreign imports into Greek culture, but rather deeply rooted in its own indigenous shamanic traditions.
The central premise of Theurgy hinges on the idea that the ritual techniques and mystical symbolism embedded within Homer’s works predate—and directly influenced—the later theurgical practices of figures like Porphyry and Proclus. Newman meticulously deconstructs key scenes from the Odyssey and Iliad, such as Odysseus’s journey to the Underworld and the funerary rites for Patroclus, presenting them not just as literary devices, but as reflections of ancient Greek spiritual practices aimed at achieving communion with the divine. His readings of these texts are nuanced and insightful, shedding new light on elements that have often been dismissed as purely narrative.
The book’s treatment of On the Cave of the Nymphs by Porphyry and Proclus’s symbolic commentary on the Iliad further bolsters Newman’s argument. By dissecting these Neoplatonic texts through a Homeric lens, Newman shows how theurgy’s emphasis on ritual and the ascent of the soul was, in fact, a continuation of a much older Greek tradition. He reveals how the rituals described by Porphyry and Proclus—often seen as later innovations—were deeply informed by Homeric models of interaction with the divine. This continuity suggests that theurgy’s roots are not in foreign mysticism, but in the very heart of Greek religious and poetic culture.
One of the standout sections of the book is Newman’s exploration of telestikē, a form of theurgic statue animation that aimed to draw the essence of a deity into a physical vessel. Newman traces the origins of this practice not only to the Chaldean and Neoplatonic traditions but also to Egyptian ritual forms and early Greek magical papyri. His analysis of telestikē as a form of animating the divine presence offers a fascinating perspective on how theurgy sought to make the unseen world visible and tangible. This focus on telestikē bridges the gap between philosophical abstraction and practical magic, highlighting how theurgic rites functioned as both symbolic acts and real transformations.
Where Newman’s study truly excels is in its ability to balance theoretical depth with concrete examples of theurgical practice. He doesn’t merely outline the philosophical underpinnings of theurgy; he brings the rituals themselves to life. From detailed descriptions of ritual implements to step-by-step reconstructions of soul-ascent practices, Theurgy offers a rare glimpse into the praxis of the ancient theurgists. This attention to detail, combined with his authoritative grasp of the source material, makes the book a valuable resource for both scholars and practitioners seeking to understand the complexities of theurgy on a deeper level.
Newman’s examination of Homeric shamanism is particularly thought-provoking. By framing the mythological journeys of Odysseus and other Greek heroes as initiatory voyages akin to shamanic soul flight, he invites readers to reconsider the very nature of ancient Greek spirituality. This perspective, which sees the Homeric epics as repositories of esoteric knowledge rather than mere tales of adventure, opens up new pathways for interpreting Greek myth and its impact on Western esotericism. Newman’s arguments are bold, but his use of textual evidence and his ability to weave together disparate threads make them convincing.
Despite its scholarly rigor, Theurgy is written in a style that remains accessible without sacrificing complexity. Newman avoids overloading the reader with jargon, choosing instead to elucidate complex ideas through clear language and well-chosen analogies. This makes the book approachable for those new to the subject, while still offering enough depth to satisfy seasoned students of the occult.
Theurgy: Theory and Practice is more than a historical study—it is a reclamation of theurgy’s place within the broader tapestry of Greek religious thought. Newman’s work challenges long-held assumptions about the origins of Western esotericism, suggesting that theurgy is not a foreign import grafted onto Greek soil, but a native tradition with roots that run as deep as the poetry of Homer himself. For anyone interested in the history of magic, the Neoplatonic tradition, or the esoteric significance of Greek literature, this book is an essential read.