My Library

Foreword by Robert North The circumstances of my translation and study of Sexual Magic have been rather unusual and so I will attempt to recount them as accurately as possible. In the summer of 1987, I was living in the city of Providence, Rhode Island; that demon-haunted metropolis favored by Edgar Allen Poe and H.P. Lovecraft in earlier times. Years before, I had heard rumors of the magical teachings of P.B. Randolph. But the only evidence that I had been able to discover was a 1939 reprint of Ravolette. This proved to be a rather slow novel, in the florid style of the nineteenth century, with a long, elaborate introduction by a seemingly right-wing Christian occultist of doubtful literary talents and even more doubtful perceptions. Consequently, I left Randolph for the more stimulating company of Aleister Crowley and Franz Bardon. By the summer of 1987, I considered myself well versed in the western magical tradition. Some twenty years of continuous study of Agrippa, Dee, Levi, the Golden Dawn, the O.T.O., Bardon, A.O. Spare, Gardner, Voudoun, and Tantra had led me to believe that I had attained to a real understanding of Magick. It was summer and time for a vacation. Montreal, Canada was suggested and it seemed like a good idea. Our journey to Montreal was wonderful, stopping to mine Herkimer "diamonds" (quartz crystals) only a few miles from the original site of the Oneida Commune and passing through Gamet Hill in the Adirondacks, where abandoned Gamet mines still yielded a few glistening treasures. On arriving in Montreal, I attempted to contact several addresses of "magickal" persons that I had obtained ten years previously. None of them still resided in Montreal. On the third day of my visit, my companion told me, "You must become intuitive and calm if you would attract the adepti. " Consequently, in a passive, meditative state, I strolled down Rue St. Denis, a potpourri of sidewalk cafes and boutiques, reminiscent of Paris. After a time, I looked across the street and saw a sign reading "Cafe Theleme." My companion remarked, "It must be a Greek restaurant," but we examined the premises and found it to be a veritable Temple of Magical Wisdom. This was the beginning of an initiatory experience of which I cannot give many details, but suffice it to say that a certain book was delivered into my hands. This book was, of course, Magia Sexualis by Pascal Beverly Randolph. It was entirely in French and I was charged with the task of bringing this work to the English speaking world. The events surrounding my translation were quite mysterious. I met many brothers on the magical path. Some were secretive and seemingly uncooperative. Yet others were cordial and marvelously helpful. Most of all, it seemed as if Randolph's spirit was continually present, both guiding and restraining.