The Confounding Genius of Aleister Crowley
The legendary British occultist was cruel, spiteful, bigoted, bilious, disloyal, and arrogant. If only he wasn’t so damned brilliant, too.
So much writing has been dedicated to Aleister Crowley that any informed researcher hesitates over what remains to add. Contemporary historians including Tobias Churton, Richard Kaczynski, and Lawrence Sutin have done remarkable work in tracking the Great Beast’s virtual every step.
Probably no other occultist, including even Madame H. P. Blavatsky, has received greater scrutiny in both scholarly and general literature. Rather than belaboring the byways of Crowley’s storied life, I exit the realm of international intrigue, speculative tales, lurid episodes, and broken relationships to focus on what I consider testament of Crowley’s literary genius and his most lasting achievement: the gemlike, three-chapter text called The Book of the Law.
Literary critic Irving Howe (1920–1993) — who would’ve groaned at his name being anywhere near Crowley’s — wrote in 1982, “Every writer…must be read and remembered for his best work.” [1] This is my approach to Crowley.
Although Crowley produced myriad books, essays, poems, translations, letters, and articles, The Book of the Law…
