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Ithell Colquhoun: Genius of The Fern Loved Gully
The first in-depth biographical study of the British surrealist and occultist Ithell Colquhoun, This book offers the first in-depth biographical study of the British surrealist and occultist Ithell Colquhoun, situating her art within the magical contexts that shaped her imaginative life and work. After decades of neglect, Colquhoun's unique vision and hermetic life have become an object of great renewed interest, both for artists and for historians of magic. Although her paintings are represented in such major collections as Tate Britain and the National Portrait Gallery, Colquhoun's rejection of both avant-garde and occult orthodoxies resulted in a life of relative obscurity. Her visual and written works have only recently received adequate recognition as a precursor to contemporary experiments in magical autobiography and esoteric feminism. After rejecting the hectic social expectations and magical orthodoxies of London's art and occult scenes, Colquhoun pursued a life of dedicated spiritual and artistic enquiry embodied in her retreat to Cornwall. Genius of the Fern Loved Gully balances engaging biography with art historical erudition and critical insight into the magical systems that underscored her art and writing.
303 pages, Paperback
First published August 2, 2020
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February 28, 2021
What an extraordinary individual Ithell Colquhoun was. Her life was the embodiment of what it means to be a seeker. Always forging ahead on her own path, she collected small stones along the way with which to compose her own mosaic. These stones she recognized as clues to the full realization of her truth. Colquhoun could not have been an easy subject for a biographer to approach. Hers was not a straightforward, clearly delineated life. Yet Amy Hale has done an admirable job of separating out the enmeshed strands of Surrealism, Celticism, and occultism that Colquhoun twined together on her journey of self-realization. Rather than a birth-to-death account of Colquhoun’s life, the book offers an examination of this triad of deep interests that held Colquhoun’s attention and attempts to explicate how they informed her artistic and literary body of work. It provides valuable commentary on that work, and should greatly assist in attempts to understand Colquhoun’s esoteric vision.
January 16, 2021
This is going to be a gushingly enthusiastic review. So let me get my one big complaint out of the way first.
Visually and tactilely, this book is gorgeous. The illustrations are lavish, the font and layout are exquisite, the paper stock is superb, and it’s lovely in the hand. But the condition of the text is a disgrace. Either it has not been professionally copy-edited at all or someone really needs to ask for their money back, because there are typos and inconsistencies on almost every page. Plus, the index is so amateurishly constructed as to be almost unusable. I simply don’t understand why any publisher would take such pains with the visuals and yet be so cavalier with the text. It’s a discourtesy to the reader, and it’s a disservice to the author, and there’s just no sodding excuse.
The disservice to the author is especially galling because Hale has invested two decades of research in this project, and the results are magnificent. As she recounts in the opening chapter, Colquhoun’s artworks and papers are scattered among various collections, in both public and private hands. Hale has spent years hunting them down and poring over the contents, but there seems to be plenty that has still not come to light. It’s a tremendous achievement to have gathered such disparate sources and pieced together even a coherent overview, let alone the depth of discussion that Hale provides.
Given the enormous breadth of Colquhoun’s work, Hale has decided to present this biography thematically rather than chronologically. This strategy is what enables that depth and coherence. (It enables some weird oversights too, not least the failure to mention the date or even year of Colquhoun’s birth in chapter two – another copy-editing snafu, perhaps).
The three big themes that organise the book are Surrealism, Celticism and occultism. In all three cases Hale’s treatment is admirably lucid and even-handed. Very relevant here is the fact that her academic background is in anthropology rather than art history. She brings an ethnographer’s sensibility to the material, trying to see movements and organisations from an insider perspective rather than imposing outsiders’ concepts and value judgements. It’s wonderfully refreshing by comparison with, say, common art-historical approaches to such material.
For example, during the 1940s Colquhoun found herself at the eye of an internal storm within the Surrealist movement in the UK. Hale’s account of that storm is respectful of all sides. She recognises it as a serious dispute over principles and strategy, rather than relegating it to the level of personalities and gossip. It would have been all too easy to demonise “difficult” individuals and mock “outdated” ideas, but Hale does neither. Speaking as a difficult individual full of outdated ideas myself, I salute her for it.
Similarly, the section on Celticism is clear and balanced. Indeed, when Hale started this project she did so as an expert on Celtic nationalisms and identities: it was while she was conducting anthropological research in Cornwall that she first heard about Colquhoun. That expertise pays dividends in the discussion of Colquhoun’s love of Cornwall and her sense of herself as a Celt. Hale treats all of it sympathetically and sensitively, but without taking any of it at face value. Uncritically romanticised Celticity remains a strong current in parts of the Surrealist movement today; it is to be hoped that participants will draw on Hale’s account to add nuance and reflexivity to their own practice.
Unsurprisingly, though, it’s the section on occultism that’s the longest and most substantial. Colquhoun’s esoteric learning was eclectic and profound, and yet she never wrote any explicit or systematic outline of her thinking on the topic. Her complex ideas must have been difficult to piece together, let alone to analyse, and Hale’s work here is a triumph. In particular, the in-depth discussion of Colquhoun’s use of geometry and colour theory – which culminated in her Taro and Decad Of Intelligence – marks the climax of the book, and at times borders on mind-blowing.
There’s a short coda on Colquhoun’s “legacy” that examines some contemporary esoteric and/or feminist artists who explicitly draw on Colquhoun in their own work. I didn’t find any of it wildly interesting, but perhaps you’ll get more of a kick out of it than I did. Personally I’m more interested in contemporary Surrealist-esotericist women such as Casi Cline and S.Higgins, but I’ve banged that drum before, so let’s drop the subject.
After 300 pages of intricate research and fascinating discussion, I came away still feeling that I had barely scratched the surface of Colquhoun. That’s not any kind of criticism of Hale; rather, it’s a reflection of Colquhoun’s immensity. Perhaps there will always be more to say about her, even after all of her scattered works and papers have been located and examined.
Colquhoun was, indeed, a genius. And Hale has done her proud.
Visually and tactilely, this book is gorgeous. The illustrations are lavish, the font and layout are exquisite, the paper stock is superb, and it’s lovely in the hand. But the condition of the text is a disgrace. Either it has not been professionally copy-edited at all or someone really needs to ask for their money back, because there are typos and inconsistencies on almost every page. Plus, the index is so amateurishly constructed as to be almost unusable. I simply don’t understand why any publisher would take such pains with the visuals and yet be so cavalier with the text. It’s a discourtesy to the reader, and it’s a disservice to the author, and there’s just no sodding excuse.
The disservice to the author is especially galling because Hale has invested two decades of research in this project, and the results are magnificent. As she recounts in the opening chapter, Colquhoun’s artworks and papers are scattered among various collections, in both public and private hands. Hale has spent years hunting them down and poring over the contents, but there seems to be plenty that has still not come to light. It’s a tremendous achievement to have gathered such disparate sources and pieced together even a coherent overview, let alone the depth of discussion that Hale provides.
Given the enormous breadth of Colquhoun’s work, Hale has decided to present this biography thematically rather than chronologically. This strategy is what enables that depth and coherence. (It enables some weird oversights too, not least the failure to mention the date or even year of Colquhoun’s birth in chapter two – another copy-editing snafu, perhaps).
The three big themes that organise the book are Surrealism, Celticism and occultism. In all three cases Hale’s treatment is admirably lucid and even-handed. Very relevant here is the fact that her academic background is in anthropology rather than art history. She brings an ethnographer’s sensibility to the material, trying to see movements and organisations from an insider perspective rather than imposing outsiders’ concepts and value judgements. It’s wonderfully refreshing by comparison with, say, common art-historical approaches to such material.
For example, during the 1940s Colquhoun found herself at the eye of an internal storm within the Surrealist movement in the UK. Hale’s account of that storm is respectful of all sides. She recognises it as a serious dispute over principles and strategy, rather than relegating it to the level of personalities and gossip. It would have been all too easy to demonise “difficult” individuals and mock “outdated” ideas, but Hale does neither. Speaking as a difficult individual full of outdated ideas myself, I salute her for it.
Similarly, the section on Celticism is clear and balanced. Indeed, when Hale started this project she did so as an expert on Celtic nationalisms and identities: it was while she was conducting anthropological research in Cornwall that she first heard about Colquhoun. That expertise pays dividends in the discussion of Colquhoun’s love of Cornwall and her sense of herself as a Celt. Hale treats all of it sympathetically and sensitively, but without taking any of it at face value. Uncritically romanticised Celticity remains a strong current in parts of the Surrealist movement today; it is to be hoped that participants will draw on Hale’s account to add nuance and reflexivity to their own practice.
Unsurprisingly, though, it’s the section on occultism that’s the longest and most substantial. Colquhoun’s esoteric learning was eclectic and profound, and yet she never wrote any explicit or systematic outline of her thinking on the topic. Her complex ideas must have been difficult to piece together, let alone to analyse, and Hale’s work here is a triumph. In particular, the in-depth discussion of Colquhoun’s use of geometry and colour theory – which culminated in her Taro and Decad Of Intelligence – marks the climax of the book, and at times borders on mind-blowing.
There’s a short coda on Colquhoun’s “legacy” that examines some contemporary esoteric and/or feminist artists who explicitly draw on Colquhoun in their own work. I didn’t find any of it wildly interesting, but perhaps you’ll get more of a kick out of it than I did. Personally I’m more interested in contemporary Surrealist-esotericist women such as Casi Cline and S.Higgins, but I’ve banged that drum before, so let’s drop the subject.
After 300 pages of intricate research and fascinating discussion, I came away still feeling that I had barely scratched the surface of Colquhoun. That’s not any kind of criticism of Hale; rather, it’s a reflection of Colquhoun’s immensity. Perhaps there will always be more to say about her, even after all of her scattered works and papers have been located and examined.
Colquhoun was, indeed, a genius. And Hale has done her proud.
January 16, 2021
Would have been fun to read this right before/after our group read of Goose of Hermogenes:
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
This is an excellent biography of Colquhoun, though in a nitpicking mood, I would have preferred a little less gossip here and there. There are many bright and vibrant reproductions of her paintings and drawings. (None of her Taro deck though, hmmm.) A crucial document, highly recommended for readers interested in Colquhoun, surrealism, and the occult.
Later note: p.256 has one of the Taro cards. Thanks to Merl for pointing this out. Would have been nice to see more though!
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
This is an excellent biography of Colquhoun, though in a nitpicking mood, I would have preferred a little less gossip here and there. There are many bright and vibrant reproductions of her paintings and drawings. (None of her Taro deck though, hmmm.) A crucial document, highly recommended for readers interested in Colquhoun, surrealism, and the occult.
Later note: p.256 has one of the Taro cards. Thanks to Merl for pointing this out. Would have been nice to see more though!
February 3, 2021
For the Tate, who own the extensive Colquhoun archives, the artist has to be something of a wet dream. A British, female, feminist surrealist with an interest in the esoteric and visionary. An author and poet with an exotic and romantic persona. There is even a drop of bi-sexuality. This must tick so many boxes for them and, to top it all off, she is right on the zeitgeist. She is going to be everywhere very soon.
Occultists and those interested in the byways of art have already long known of her. I read her odd biography of Golden Dawn chief Samuel ‘MacGregor’ Mathers way back last century, and Fulgur have recently issued a lovely edition of her Tarot cards.
Hale has spent twenty years studying Colquhoun and presents us with a nuanced portrait of an artist who was all the above and yet something else. It is an uneasy shifting book on someone who does not appear to quite ‘fit nicely’ into any particular category. Hale divides her book roughly into sections on Colquhoun’s lasting affiliations with surrealism, Celticism and occultism although all overlap with each other. What comes across in the biography is that she was a loner who was continuously on her own inner quest, who adopted, tested and, if need be, discarded techniques and people who were not up to her standards. This does not mean that she was incapable of long term commitments and friendships, which included occultists the Cecil Williamson, W. B. Crow and publisher Peter Owen, but all these currents and individuals fed a woman who very much trod her own path.
Colquhoun was born in India in 1906 (Incredibly Hale neglected to give us her exact birthdate, it is the 9th October) to a family steeped in Colonialism. She was educated in England and demonstrated an early aptitude for drawing (and hermetic studies) which was consolidated by her studentship at the Slade and a sojourn in Paris where she maintained a small studio. However, it was in London in 1936 that surrealism made its “full impact” upon her.
It is perhaps here that I should state that I find the British version of surrealism very dull indeed. Dull as in derivative, dull in the sense of murkily coloured, dull in the sense that it has no fun in it - the exception to this is wonderful Leonora Carrington, but then she escaped the tediousness of the UK by relocating to Mexico (and was a partner of Max Ernst). I find Colquhouns ‘classic’ surrealist images dull in all the senses above. Hale rightly points out her debt to Dali, ‘fleshy’ landscapes that recreate human figures appear in both his and Colquhouns work, (I would also like to add Giorgio de Chirico with his plays on architectural perspective and fragmented bodies) but it is Roberto Matta that was most influential on her, his ideas around ‘psychological morphology’ and automatism as a way of accessing the unconscious, themes she would pursue and adjust throughout her life.
Such techniques intersect with occultism and its use of symbols. Colquhoun was very drawn to both the Golden Dawn system of magic and alchemy, both rich in colour symbolism. Hale has written extensively on colour symbolism and her commentaries upon it and its relation to Colquhoun’s art are truly excellent. Hale’s analysis of various artworks is hugely informative and something that only someone with a deep understanding of both the artist the esoteric could achieve. Any art historian who does not acknowledge Hale’s work in regard to this will not have grasped Colquhoun.
Hale also attempts to make sense of Colquhoun's surrealistic writings and also make a very decent job of it. The Tate archive contains various draughts of works and their sources (dream diaries etc) and is thus able to unpick various themes in her books. Hale uses the terms ‘arcane, tricky, challenging’ and ‘not easy’ in relation to her novel ‘The Goose Of Hermogenes’. This is infinitely kinder than my opinion which is that it is way too personal to the author to be understood and shoved a long way (like most of the other surrealistic writings I have read) up its own fundament to be enjoyable. Hale almost convinced me I should give it another go, which is no mean achievement, but I’ve got a million other books to read. Hale is once again spot on when she says that even Colquhoun’s ‘easiest’ hermetic/occult writing assumes a high level of prior knowledge from its reader.
That said, her book ‘The Living Stones’ on Cornish neolithic sites and Holy wells is a hugely enjoyable and wonderful book. Hale’s section of Celticism and the role of Cornwall both literally and symbolically in Colquhoun's life, and its relation to the emergence of the field of ‘earth mysteries’ is very well informed and hugely interesting. Colquhoun spent much of the latter part of her life in Cornwall and believed that such spots as she describes in the book are focal points of spiritual energy and some of her best artworks reflect these ideas. It aligns itself with her inner quest for ‘oneness’/balance represented by the androgyny and symbolised in the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. In her later life, she was associated with a number of occult/Celtic/proto-Wiccan groups in what I feel is either an attempt to try and find an ‘authentic’ path or to explore what each system has to offer and to extract the spiritual essence from the trappings of each group's respective rituals. Although she was friendly with Kenneth and Steffi Grant for many years she only met Austin Spare once. This is a huge pity as I believe they would have been somewhat kindred spirits - Spare being another artist who does not quite ‘fit’ into any tidy compartment.
Hale makes the point that Colquhoun had a very romanticised view of Cornwall and although she lived for a while in what appears to be little more than a glorified shed she also maintained a flat in London for many years. She was able to do this as she had a small trust fund and it would seem that she never really needed to work in order to live.
It would seem to me that this was both a blessing and a curse for her. A blessing in that it allows time to develop yourself and explore the things that interest you in-depth. A curse in that to be a free spirit can be a lonely affair as you could be perceived as 'eccentric' (if a man) or 'batty old dame' (if a woman). Hale hints at some mental health issues and states that Colquhoun used remote psychic healers for various (unspecified) ailments. Once again I get the sense of a person driving for gnosis but possibly hoping there might be others to share her quest. It would appear that those she tried were found lacking and that she found that hard.
I would have liked a bit more regarding Colquhoun’s personal life and her interpersonal relationships with the everyday world around her (ie other local residents) beyond those she exchanged correspondence with. The final section of the book on her legacy also feels a bit strained and premature, much as I have a lot of time for the work of Linder Sperling. But this is because I feel Hale’s book is one of the foundation stones of Colquhoun's legacy and as such it will be an essential book for anyone with any interest in her. I shall certainly be re-approaching Colquhoun's work in a better-illuminated light. Recommended!
Occultists and those interested in the byways of art have already long known of her. I read her odd biography of Golden Dawn chief Samuel ‘MacGregor’ Mathers way back last century, and Fulgur have recently issued a lovely edition of her Tarot cards.
Hale has spent twenty years studying Colquhoun and presents us with a nuanced portrait of an artist who was all the above and yet something else. It is an uneasy shifting book on someone who does not appear to quite ‘fit nicely’ into any particular category. Hale divides her book roughly into sections on Colquhoun’s lasting affiliations with surrealism, Celticism and occultism although all overlap with each other. What comes across in the biography is that she was a loner who was continuously on her own inner quest, who adopted, tested and, if need be, discarded techniques and people who were not up to her standards. This does not mean that she was incapable of long term commitments and friendships, which included occultists the Cecil Williamson, W. B. Crow and publisher Peter Owen, but all these currents and individuals fed a woman who very much trod her own path.
Colquhoun was born in India in 1906 (Incredibly Hale neglected to give us her exact birthdate, it is the 9th October) to a family steeped in Colonialism. She was educated in England and demonstrated an early aptitude for drawing (and hermetic studies) which was consolidated by her studentship at the Slade and a sojourn in Paris where she maintained a small studio. However, it was in London in 1936 that surrealism made its “full impact” upon her.
It is perhaps here that I should state that I find the British version of surrealism very dull indeed. Dull as in derivative, dull in the sense of murkily coloured, dull in the sense that it has no fun in it - the exception to this is wonderful Leonora Carrington, but then she escaped the tediousness of the UK by relocating to Mexico (and was a partner of Max Ernst). I find Colquhouns ‘classic’ surrealist images dull in all the senses above. Hale rightly points out her debt to Dali, ‘fleshy’ landscapes that recreate human figures appear in both his and Colquhouns work, (I would also like to add Giorgio de Chirico with his plays on architectural perspective and fragmented bodies) but it is Roberto Matta that was most influential on her, his ideas around ‘psychological morphology’ and automatism as a way of accessing the unconscious, themes she would pursue and adjust throughout her life.
Such techniques intersect with occultism and its use of symbols. Colquhoun was very drawn to both the Golden Dawn system of magic and alchemy, both rich in colour symbolism. Hale has written extensively on colour symbolism and her commentaries upon it and its relation to Colquhoun’s art are truly excellent. Hale’s analysis of various artworks is hugely informative and something that only someone with a deep understanding of both the artist the esoteric could achieve. Any art historian who does not acknowledge Hale’s work in regard to this will not have grasped Colquhoun.
Hale also attempts to make sense of Colquhoun's surrealistic writings and also make a very decent job of it. The Tate archive contains various draughts of works and their sources (dream diaries etc) and is thus able to unpick various themes in her books. Hale uses the terms ‘arcane, tricky, challenging’ and ‘not easy’ in relation to her novel ‘The Goose Of Hermogenes’. This is infinitely kinder than my opinion which is that it is way too personal to the author to be understood and shoved a long way (like most of the other surrealistic writings I have read) up its own fundament to be enjoyable. Hale almost convinced me I should give it another go, which is no mean achievement, but I’ve got a million other books to read. Hale is once again spot on when she says that even Colquhoun’s ‘easiest’ hermetic/occult writing assumes a high level of prior knowledge from its reader.
That said, her book ‘The Living Stones’ on Cornish neolithic sites and Holy wells is a hugely enjoyable and wonderful book. Hale’s section of Celticism and the role of Cornwall both literally and symbolically in Colquhoun's life, and its relation to the emergence of the field of ‘earth mysteries’ is very well informed and hugely interesting. Colquhoun spent much of the latter part of her life in Cornwall and believed that such spots as she describes in the book are focal points of spiritual energy and some of her best artworks reflect these ideas. It aligns itself with her inner quest for ‘oneness’/balance represented by the androgyny and symbolised in the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. In her later life, she was associated with a number of occult/Celtic/proto-Wiccan groups in what I feel is either an attempt to try and find an ‘authentic’ path or to explore what each system has to offer and to extract the spiritual essence from the trappings of each group's respective rituals. Although she was friendly with Kenneth and Steffi Grant for many years she only met Austin Spare once. This is a huge pity as I believe they would have been somewhat kindred spirits - Spare being another artist who does not quite ‘fit’ into any tidy compartment.
Hale makes the point that Colquhoun had a very romanticised view of Cornwall and although she lived for a while in what appears to be little more than a glorified shed she also maintained a flat in London for many years. She was able to do this as she had a small trust fund and it would seem that she never really needed to work in order to live.
It would seem to me that this was both a blessing and a curse for her. A blessing in that it allows time to develop yourself and explore the things that interest you in-depth. A curse in that to be a free spirit can be a lonely affair as you could be perceived as 'eccentric' (if a man) or 'batty old dame' (if a woman). Hale hints at some mental health issues and states that Colquhoun used remote psychic healers for various (unspecified) ailments. Once again I get the sense of a person driving for gnosis but possibly hoping there might be others to share her quest. It would appear that those she tried were found lacking and that she found that hard.
I would have liked a bit more regarding Colquhoun’s personal life and her interpersonal relationships with the everyday world around her (ie other local residents) beyond those she exchanged correspondence with. The final section of the book on her legacy also feels a bit strained and premature, much as I have a lot of time for the work of Linder Sperling. But this is because I feel Hale’s book is one of the foundation stones of Colquhoun's legacy and as such it will be an essential book for anyone with any interest in her. I shall certainly be re-approaching Colquhoun's work in a better-illuminated light. Recommended!
April 18, 2021
I first came across Ithell Colquhoun as a child, as one of her paintings, Rivières Tièdes, was in Southampton Art Gallery. I was very drawn to the painting and I once had a significant Jungian-style dream about a building very like the one in the painting. Ithell Colquhoun: Genius of the Fern-loved Gully is a very well written book. It’s organized in four main strands — a biographical section, and sections on Surrealism, Celticism, and the occult. Each of these themes in Colquhoun’s art and life is examined, shedding light on her preoccupations with landscape, the fourth dimension, multidimensional vision, animism, and various of the more formal esoteric orders (the Golden Dawn and its successors). I would love to see Colquhoun’s Taro deck (Taro was her preferred spelling) and her cottage in Cornwall. I wish I had found out more about Colquhoun earlier, but now, thanks to Amy Hale, the life and work of Colquhoun is laid out in all its complexity for a new generation to enjoy. My only complaint is that I am still not sure what a mantic stain is. And I agree with Amy that it’s a pity that Colquhoun never wrote a non-fiction occult book laying out her theories in detail.
February 25, 2023
First of all, this is more less an intellectual biography -- that is, a biography focused on an individuals ideas and influences -- and not an art book. There are a few reproductions but it is primarily words not images.
It's pretty well-researched (especially given that Hale admits to not having heard of Colquhoun before a colleague suggested Hale look into her!) but not quite an academic book. It's low on citation (disappointingly so, as I was interestd in learning more about the Quest Society) and Hale doesn't try to conceal her personal sympathy with Colquehoun's occultism.
I didn't read every bit of this, as I'm mostly interested in her painting and not in her poetry which I find, as the youth say "cringe," but what I read seemed to concur with descriptions in other texts. Key ideas/themes:
~Sex. Practically all her art is sexual. Even mountains and streams are phallic and vulvular. She seemed pretty into that essentialist earthy feminine, women are the moon and menstruation is magic line that I've never been sympathetic to. However, kudos to her for doing her own thing. Pretty sure most British women of her period would not paint a naked woman eating out a guy's ass, or at least wouldn't show it around. Oh, and she says that lesbianism is a juvenile phase that women should resist in order to develop intellectually, just so you're warned if you're gay and planning to read this.
~Celticism. I knew Colquhoun was obsessed with Cornwall but did not realize she wasn't actually from there. She was born in India (which apparently entitled her to use Indian mysticism as well) to a Colonial family. Her actual Celtic connection was some Irish relatives on her mother's side. She seemed to stereotype Celts as noble savages who are more passionate and in touch with their prehistoric pagan roots.
~Occultism. Everything is very meaningful and rooted in nature and heritage. As a self-proclaimed spiritual genius she got to pick and choose from all traditions how she pleased. Naturally many people who were, for instance, actually from the "sacred sites" she wanted to mess about in weren't thrilled. Also people in groups she joined or tried to join tended to get annoyed by her proclaimed expertise and divine spiritual guidance. She got kicked out of the London Surrealist group, and the Golden Dawn rejected her membership application.
Bonus cringe poem that I might have written in middle school but would not have shown anyone:
Why then exists divison
Philosophers have asked
Division is life's substance
And may not here be masked
But though divided each can be
A chrysalis encasqued
That opens to a dragonfly
Sunning a scarlet hue
To call another of its kind
But of cerulean blue
(There's more verses but I'll spare you.)
It's pretty well-researched (especially given that Hale admits to not having heard of Colquhoun before a colleague suggested Hale look into her!) but not quite an academic book. It's low on citation (disappointingly so, as I was interestd in learning more about the Quest Society) and Hale doesn't try to conceal her personal sympathy with Colquehoun's occultism.
I didn't read every bit of this, as I'm mostly interested in her painting and not in her poetry which I find, as the youth say "cringe," but what I read seemed to concur with descriptions in other texts. Key ideas/themes:
~Sex. Practically all her art is sexual. Even mountains and streams are phallic and vulvular. She seemed pretty into that essentialist earthy feminine, women are the moon and menstruation is magic line that I've never been sympathetic to. However, kudos to her for doing her own thing. Pretty sure most British women of her period would not paint a naked woman eating out a guy's ass, or at least wouldn't show it around. Oh, and she says that lesbianism is a juvenile phase that women should resist in order to develop intellectually, just so you're warned if you're gay and planning to read this.
~Celticism. I knew Colquhoun was obsessed with Cornwall but did not realize she wasn't actually from there. She was born in India (which apparently entitled her to use Indian mysticism as well) to a Colonial family. Her actual Celtic connection was some Irish relatives on her mother's side. She seemed to stereotype Celts as noble savages who are more passionate and in touch with their prehistoric pagan roots.
~Occultism. Everything is very meaningful and rooted in nature and heritage. As a self-proclaimed spiritual genius she got to pick and choose from all traditions how she pleased. Naturally many people who were, for instance, actually from the "sacred sites" she wanted to mess about in weren't thrilled. Also people in groups she joined or tried to join tended to get annoyed by her proclaimed expertise and divine spiritual guidance. She got kicked out of the London Surrealist group, and the Golden Dawn rejected her membership application.
Bonus cringe poem that I might have written in middle school but would not have shown anyone:
Why then exists divison
Philosophers have asked
Division is life's substance
And may not here be masked
But though divided each can be
A chrysalis encasqued
That opens to a dragonfly
Sunning a scarlet hue
To call another of its kind
But of cerulean blue
(There's more verses but I'll spare you.)
September 3, 2024
When I heard the author. Amy Hale, speak about a British artist I had never heard of, who was a surrealist and an occultist who highlighted sex magic and animism in her work, I was fascinated. In this academic biography, Hale structures it differently than most biographers would do. Most biographies stick to a chronological arrangement, as a human life is usually built on their previous life experiences. But not this book. Here, the author arranges this book in 5 sections; the first section is the shortest, and it deals with the subject's strong identity and ideas starting from an incredibly young age. It then progresses to Colquhoun's connection to Surrealism, Celticism, Occultism, and her legacy. An interesting arrangement and one that makes sense in the case of this specific subject. What I found enlightening was how Colquhoun's life, passions and work placed her in Great Britain from the 1920s through the 1980s, a time of major historical significance in the world of art but especially in the world of the occult. Whether she was an initiate or member of a specific society, or simply inspired by, Colquhoun was connected to virtually every occult group, author and theorists in the western occult tradition in the early 20th century. The influence of these societies, authors and visionaries are still felt to this day. Seeing this esoteric movement through the perspective of someone deeply involved in the occult at the time was truly fascinating. This book also helped me understand and connect the wide variety of philosophical, moral, and religious thoughts and practices in more detail, and how they connected and built upon one another. In this biography we look at how alchemy, hermeticism, kaballah, animism and masonic traditions were the true basis of Colquhoun's spiritual practice. We are also introduced to perrenialism, druidry, esoteric christianity, the development of wicca, traditional witchcraft, celtic spirituality and identity, tantra, theosophy, and paganism and how they all interact. While I cannot say this is the best book I have ever read, I was never bored and felt I was learning something new and groundbreaking on every page. I would highly recommend this book for anyone looking for most academic texts on occultism, witchcraft, and the development of modern paganism.
February 19, 2024
Disappointed! Stranded in the unenviable middle ground between lush coffee table art book and serious academic appraisal of Colquhoun and her frankly intoxicating body of work and it doesn't succeed well in either regard. The highlights are certainly the reproductions of many of her works (that tarot print, good lord) but its weighed down by Hales undeniably impassioned yet all too dry literary insight. Did I learn? Not really I'm afraid to say.
Worthy of a place in the library as a coda to one of my favourite figures in the collective fields of art and philosophy but one that left me wanting.
Worthy of a place in the library as a coda to one of my favourite figures in the collective fields of art and philosophy but one that left me wanting.
January 25, 2024
This biography is comprehensive yet seminal at the same time. It's hard to put Ithell Colquhoun in a single box, and that tension was beautifully represented by Hale. The book was engaging and had nice illustrations. The only downside is that those illustrations were often quite divorced from the text surrounding them, and often were presented doubly, but zoomed in to a detail that didn't seem super relevant. If that arrangement had been more harmonious, this would have been a perfect biography.
May 29, 2021
A wonderful book.
Great images and a good survey of Colquhoun's life and working methods.
Great images and a good survey of Colquhoun's life and working methods.
October 5, 2021
Fascinating - not so much ahead of her times as never wholly part of them.
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