Reading, at the moment, “The Werewolf in Lore and Legend” by Montague Summers.
And, I must say, it’s absolutely brilliant.
In the spring I read his “The History of Demonology and Witchcraft”, as well outstanding, and the incentive to read anything by him I can come across.
He is, first and foremost, erudite and well informed upon his subject matter, quoting hundreds of references. He presumes upon the reader a similar level of education, quoting his sources in the original Greek, Latin, Italian, German, Russian, etc. footnotes provided not to translate the quotes but merely clear up some obtuse point that might confuse one. When he condescends to argue a point in English there is no paragraph in which you can’t find occasion to open a dictionary. He writes as a Catholic clergyman, and as such occasionally references the pleasures to be found in more classical Man-Boy relationships (his first book was a book of verse dedicated to the subject). When describing the trials of witches he uses phrases like “subject to the most exquisite torture…”, which, in the strictest sense of the word, is true, but perhaps a little less zeal might be appropriate? Nonetheless he is highly entertaining, and to add to it all he professes to believe what he writes - that the Devil is a real being, who wreaks his supernatural agency amongst the living through witches, werewolves, and vampires. A curious point of view, especially given the time that he writes at and his formidable knowledge of the subject.
And a very curious individual, arguably his reasoned (reasonable?) assurances on the existence of evil and devilry might be better founded upon the organization that he represents and the causes he champions than by the demons and witches he so mercilessly flays, but that’s part of his charm…a must have guest, along with Aleister Crowley, to any dinner party of historical figures.
For a short (but entertaining) biography and list of published works read the wiki:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montague_Summers
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"Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns."
Finally finished. For some reason the second reading took far, far longer than the first - most probably the job. A masterpiece.
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#16 as follows:
in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me
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A series of thoughtful essays on a variety of subjects from Falstaff to The Secret Commonwealth, and his firsthand meetings with Evelyn Waugh and Robert Graves.
Interesting, perhaps it chief redeeming feature is that it recommends and refers one on to read other authors one hasn't heard of. Good.
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