Happy Birthday, You Weird Bastard

October 12th, Aleister Crowley

Edward Alexander Crowley.

October 12th, 1875

My fascination for the Roman period focuses on the early development of Christianity in the Roman Empire, specifically with respect to early Christian iconography. Which, for an atheist, you might think is an unusual thing to be interested in. A lot of nonsense is spoken about the origins of Christianity, including that it ‘stole’ a lot of theological practices from other pagan religions. Largely this isn’t true, and the explanation as to why is far too long to go into here, but that Christianity apparently shares a lot of similarities with other pagan religions is either a rather hyperbolic exaggeration or just plain untrue. Sure, people post things online about how, say, Jesus shares similarities with Mithra, but you never see online posts listing the thousands of differences between them. You can find ten points of similarity between Jesus and the milkman, but that doesn't mean the milkman was a construct based on Jesus.

Christianity didn’t ‘steal’ the idea of Christmas from Saturnalia; the practices followed during Saturnalia simply carried on into the Christian period. Midwinter is a cracking time to have a nice big celebratory festival, no matter what religion you follow. Many religions celebrate things during midwinter (and midsummer!)

Having said that, there are plenty of things about Christianity that do share similarities with earlier pagan rituals, and that’s largely because when it came to constructing any new religion, not just the Jesus one, there are certain criteria that need to be filled. The process of attaining divinity for humans, is a well-trodden path in Roman religion and one Jesus follows in the New Testament. If you want to find a book that describes how a mortal man ‘heals’ the blind and lame by laying hands on them and then goes on to become a ‘god’, you need look no further than Tacitus’ descriptions of the life of the Emperor Vespasian.

My main fascination with Christianity has always been, why that one in particular? There’s nothing particularly neat or special about the Jewish cult that later became Christianity, so why did that one make it through while others failed? If anything, the specific need for Christianity to be spread via the act of preaching should have held it back. Pagan religions can be followed pretty much how one wants. There is no need in paganism to have ‘priests’ going around with a ruler, whacking errant followers across the knuckles when they stray too far from the central message. Christianity requires it.

But Christianity, despite what I have said, is still a human construct, whether one believes in God or not. Someone made the religion up whatever it is based on, and people had been making religions up long before Christianity and have been doing so ever since. Some of them just made shit up based on earlier regions, and some of them, like Aleister Crowley, just made shit up as they went along. Crowley made his nonsense up by perfecting a ridiculous-looking stare and wearing a daft hat.

Just like the Pope.

Aleister Crowley, born Edward Alexander Crowley on October 12, 1875, in Royal Leamington Spa, Warwickshire, England, is one of the most infamous figures in Western esotericism, known for his involvement in occultism, ceremonial magic, and his controversial lifestyle. Crowley’s impact on the spiritual and occult communities has been substantial, influencing various modern-day belief systems. He was a prolific writer and poet, producing an extensive body of work, though his controversial life often overshadowed his contributions to literature and mysticism.

Crowley was born into a wealthy and devout Christian family. His father, Edward Crowley, was a successful brewer who retired early and dedicated much of his life to preaching as part of the Plymouth Brethren, an evangelical Christian sect. His mother, Emily Bertha Bishop, was equally pious. Crowley’s upbringing was marked by strict religious observance, which he later came to resent deeply. In fact, Crowley often referred to his mother’s strictness and fanaticism as a source of his early rebellion against Christianity, and it was she who first called him “The Beast,” a nickname he embraced.

Crowley attended several schools, including the prestigious Malvern College and Tonbridge School, but he was often in conflict with his teachers and peers due to his defiant and rebellious nature. Eventually, he entered Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1895, where he studied literature and continued to cultivate his interests in mysticism, alchemy, and esoteric philosophy. During his time at Cambridge, Crowley wrote extensively, including poems and plays, which often contained explicit and controversial themes. His time at university was formative, not only for his writing but also for his exploration of sexuality, which included both homosexual and heterosexual encounters—something that was highly controversial in Victorian society.

Aleister Crowley’s early life as a mountaineer played a significant role in shaping his character, not just in terms of physical endurance but also his sense of challenge, adventure, and breaking boundaries. Crowley’s fascination with mountaineering began in the late 1890s during his time at Cambridge. He saw mountaineering as both a sport and a spiritual endeavour, and it would become a major passion for him during his early adulthood. For Crowley, climbing mountains was a way to test the limits of both the body and the mind, aligning with his broader philosophy of pushing beyond conventional limits.

In 1894, Crowley began his mountaineering career with a series of climbs in the Lake District of England and the Scottish Highlands, but it wasn’t until he ventured to the European Alps that he began to make a name for himself as a serious mountaineer. One of his first significant ascents was the Eiger, a notoriously difficult peak in Switzerland, where he climbed without the aid of modern equipment. Crowley’s boldness and disregard for traditional techniques earned him a reputation as both daring and reckless. Nevertheless, he demonstrated significant technical skill and determination, qualities that would define much of his later pursuits in life.

In 1902, Crowley participated in one of his most famous expeditions: the attempt to climb K2, the second-highest mountain in the world, located in the Karakoram range in Pakistan. Crowley was part of an international team led by Oscar Eckenstein, a seasoned mountaineer. The expedition faced numerous challenges, including poor weather conditions and logistical difficulties. Despite failing to reach the summit, the team set a new altitude record for the time, ascending to 6,525 meters (21,407 feet). Crowley’s contribution to the expedition was notable, although he frequently clashed with other members of the team. His strong-willed, domineering personality caused friction, but his technical expertise was evident throughout the climb. The K2 expedition was ultimately unsuccessful, but it remained one of the most ambitious and daring climbs of the early 20th century.

Crowley also attempted to scale Kanchenjunga, the third-highest mountain in the world, in 1905. Leading this expedition himself, Crowley and his team faced extreme weather conditions, and the climb ended in disaster when four porters died in an avalanche. Crowley’s response to the tragedy was heavily criticized, as he refused to abandon the expedition even after the deaths, showing little regard for the lives lost. This incident significantly tarnished his reputation within the mountaineering community. Although Crowley’s stubbornness and obsession with pushing limits were consistent with his broader philosophy, they often alienated others, as demonstrated in this fatal expedition.

Despite these setbacks, Crowley’s mountaineering exploits are noteworthy for their ambition and daring. His experiences in the mountains mirrored his esoteric and spiritual pursuits, where he constantly sought to push beyond the boundaries of human experience. Climbing, for Crowley, was a form of spiritual conquest, much like his explorations into occultism and magic. Although he never achieved the same recognition in mountaineering as he did in the world of the occult, his climbing efforts remain an integral part of his complex and multifaceted life.

Crowley’s interest in occultism blossomed in the late 1890s when he became involved with the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, an influential occult society based in London. He was initiated into the order in 1898, where he quickly progressed through the ranks. However, internal conflicts within the Golden Dawn, particularly with members such as poet William Butler Yeats, led to Crowley’s eventual departure from the group in 1900.

In 1904, during a trip to Egypt with his wife Rose Edith Kelly, Crowley claimed to have experienced a mystical revelation. He said that he made contact with a supernatural entity called Aiwass, who dictated to him The Book of the Law (also known as Liber AL vel Legis). This book laid the foundation for the religion and philosophy Crowley would later term Thelema. Central to Thelema is the concept of "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law," a philosophy of individualism and self-realization. Crowley saw himself as a prophet of a new age called the Aeon of Horus, which would reject traditional moral and religious codes in favour of personal freedom and the pursuit of one's true will.

Crowley spent much of the early 20th century travelling and conducting magical experiments. He journeyed to various parts of the world, including India, China, and the United States, learning about Eastern mysticism and practising yoga and meditation. He was deeply influenced by Eastern religions, particularly Hinduism and Buddhism, and integrated many of their concepts into his own magical practices.

In 1920, Crowley founded the Abbey of Thelema in Cefalù, Sicily, as a communal space for the practice of Thelemic rituals and experiments in communal living. However, the Abbey quickly gained a notorious reputation due to reports of drug use, sexual libertinism, and bizarre rituals. When a British man died under mysterious circumstances after visiting the Abbey, Crowley was labelled "The Wickedest Man in the World" by the British press. In 1923, Italian authorities expelled Crowley from the country, and the Abbey was abandoned.

Crowley's reputation as a magician and occultist grew during this time, but so did his notoriety. He frequently clashed with both public opinion and the law. He was a heavy user of drugs, including heroin and cocaine, which he initially took for medicinal purposes but later became addicted to. Crowley wrote extensively about his magical practices, producing works such as Magick in Theory and Practice (1929) and The Vision and the Voice (1932). His writings on magick (a term he used to distinguish it from stage magic) included rituals, invocations, and philosophical musings on the nature of existence.

Despite—or perhaps because of—his controversial nature, Crowley had a significant influence on the development of modern occultism. Thelema, his religious philosophy, inspired various groups and individuals, particularly within the Western esoteric tradition. The Ordo Templi Orientis (O.T.O.), an occult organization Crowley joined and eventually led, incorporated Thelemic principles into its teachings. Crowley's influence also extended to the modern Wiccan movement, with figures like Gerald Gardner drawing inspiration from his work.

Crowley’s interest in sexual liberation, drug use, and the rejection of conventional morality prefigured many of the cultural shifts of the 1960s counterculture movement. Figures such as Timothy Leary, the American psychologist known for advocating the use of psychedelic drugs, saw Crowley as a precursor to the ideals of the era. Musicians like Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin and David Bowie also referenced Crowley in their work, further embedding him in popular culture.

In addition to his esoteric contributions, Crowley wrote extensively on a range of topics, from chess to mountaineering. His literary works include poetry, fiction, and plays. His novel Moonchild (1929) and his poetry collection White Stains (1898) are some of his more well-known literary contributions. However, these works were often overshadowed by his public persona and controversial activities.

The latter part of Crowley’s life was marked by financial difficulties, health problems, and increasing isolation. His heavy drug use had taken a toll on his health, and he struggled with addiction for much of his life. Despite his fame (or infamy), Crowley was often impoverished and dependent on the support of friends and followers.

Crowley’s final years were spent in relative obscurity, though he continued to write and engage in occult practices. He died on December 1, 1947, at the age of 72 in Hastings, England. His legacy, however, lived on, with his writings continuing to inspire both occult practitioners and artists long after his death.

Aleister Crowley remains one of the most polarizing figures in the history of Western esotericism. His work in occultism, particularly the development of Thelema, has had a lasting impact on spiritual practices around the world. Yet his life, marked by controversy, scandal, and excess, often overshadows his contributions to literature and esoteric thought. Whether seen as a visionary or a charlatan, Crowley's influence on modern spirituality and culture is undeniable.




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