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Gamaliel: The Diary of a Vampire & Dance, Doll, Dance

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This copy is from a First and Limited Edition only 1000 copies.

158 pages, Hardcover

Published January 1, 2003

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About the author

Kenneth Grant

69 books197 followers
Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.

Kenneth Grant was the head of several important Thelemic orders and author of the influential “Typhonian Trilogies” series (1972–2002) that includes The Magical Revival, Nightside of Eden and Aleister Crowley and the Hidden God.

In 1939, Kenneth Grant chanced upon Crowley’s Magick in Theory and Practice and a few years later began a correspondence with the author (see Remembering Aleister Crowley, Skoob Books, 1991) that would lead to him joining the Ordo Templi Orientis. In 1946, he was initiated into the Argentum Astrum and was confirmed as an IX° in the O.T.O.

Shortly after Crowley’s death in 1947 Grant met David Curwen. Also member of the O.T.O. Sovereign Sanctuary, a keen alchemist and a student of tantra, Curwen initiated Grant into “a highly recondite formula of the tantric vama marg.” This experience further deepened Grant’s interest in oriental mysticism and he detailed his work with the Advaita Vedanta in a number of essays for Asian journals in the early 1950s (later published as At the Feet of the Guru, Starfire, 2006).

In 1948, Kenneth Grant’s wife Steffi (they were married in 1946) wrote to Austin Osman Spare and the couple began an eight-year friendship with the artist. The bookseller Michael Houghton had already introduced Grant to Spare’s opus, The Book of Pleasure, and Spare elucidated his theories with letters and enclosures of manuscripts, with Kenneth acting as amanuensis. In 1954, Spare and Grant co-founded the Zos Kia Cultus: not a cult in the objective sense, but a designation given to the creative nexus of personal magical experience (see Zos Speaks!, Fulgur, 1999).

In the same year Grant founded the New Isis Lodge, with the intention of providing a conduit for “the influx of cosmic energy from a transplutonic power-zone known to initiates as Nu-Isis.” The group ran until 1962 and various accounts of the experiences of the group may be found throughout the “Typhonian Trilogies”.

Coetaneous with the New Isis Lodge, Kenneth and Steffi Grant began work on the Carfax Monographs. This series of ten essays was issued between 1959 and 1963 with the explicit intention to “elucidate the hidden lore of the West according to canons preserved in various esoteric orders and movements of recent times.” It was the beginning of a unique 50 year contribution to Thelemic literature and art that spans poetry, biographical works, fact and fiction.

Copyright © Robert Ansell, 2007

http://www.fulgur.co.uk/authors/grant/

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Author 11 books53 followers
February 22, 2023
Book review: This is how Left Hand Path ends up, to sum up. An occult lady of class and sophistication turned into a destitute, deranged, syphilitic pregnant whore, becoming food for shadow worms, attempting to awaken kundalini snakes, she botches the operation. If you can't stand the hell's gate, don't imagine you'll pass through the citadel.

Trivia: Did you know that H.R.Giger was inspired by Typhonian forces, Tunnels of Seth and Ursa Maior currents? Fans of Xenomorphs unite.
Profile Image for didi.
132 reviews1 follower
January 8, 2025
“As I turned into my room I smelt the odour as she had mentioned, a queer, rank, and sickly perfume suggesting orchids, or fungus slowly burning. I looked up as a light played on the banisters above me. The boy's door was ajar and a sallow face leered down at me, the eyes dark slits of evil. With a start I realized it was not the boy's face. Then the light was extinguished. I heard a heavy thud followed by a quavering song, unearthly, dismal, unutterably lugubrious. It chilled my heart. I locked my door and sat on the bed. I could not banish the image of the face. It was strangely familiar, yet I could not identify it. I heard nothing, and there were no traces of the cloying odour in my room. Suddenly I heard a sibilant rustling, as of leaves crackling in a fire. What made me think of leaves? The face I had glimpsed was the face of something sylvan; it suggested a wreathed head. I cannot remember what the head resembled; I remember only the eyes and the black brooding brows arched high above; and a queer distorted curl of the lips that was a smile of such malignancy as I had never seen on any human face. I shivered at the recollection of it. Did I say human face?”
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