A brief outline of the operation
In this section I outline the main instructions about preparing for the operation, creating the necessary conditions, and how to conduct oneself for the required six or eighteen months.
This is not a detailed or complete description—for that, anyone planning to perform this operation must refer to the original books. Nor do I say much about the final stages after the knowledge and conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel. The purpose of this section is simply to outline my daily routine, in order that the following diary pages will make more sense to the reader.
The place. It is necessary to prepare an oratory for the operation. Two versions are described: an open one for deep countryside, and a room for use in town. Basically the space lines up with the cardinal points, has a door to the west, windows to the east and south, an altar in the middle, a lamp on high and, outside the door, a level space covered with river sand where the spirits will be invoked. My oratory was a self-constructed six by three foot pine shed lined up and fitted as described.
The time. The operation starts on the first morning after Easter or Passover, and ends at the Feast of Tabernacles, either six (or eighteen) “moons” later. In my diary I was never quite sure if a “moon” meant a lunar return or a full lunation.
The clothes. For most of the time I was simply instructed to dress in a “clean and moderate” manner “according to custom”. I used a secondhand but apparently unused judo suit that conveniently turned up that month in a jumble sale—a good garment for sitting and extended kneeling. I also wore Helly Hansen thermal clothing when it got very cold. During the last two months I needed a white linen robe with short sleeves reaching to the knee and “mourning” clothes for the last days of the retirement and, for the following days, when commanding spirits, a red silk robe of similar proportions with a matching headband.
I made the white and red robes myself during the operation—quite a challenge for an inexperienced needleman when the operation demanded that no blood must be shed. I grew used to the specified “shorty” robe, finding it very comfortable and practical. In later years, when another magical order required me to make my own black cotton robe, I decided to stick with the Abramelin pattern. I became known for what they called my “baby doll” outfit, where everyone else looked like hooded monks.
Other equipment. A simple wand of almond wood—I decided to at least do this in style and I cut the branch with a single stroke at the equinox sunrise; a brazier and censor for incense; a lamp to hang above the altar; and an altar that was like a cupboard to hold all the other necessary kit. I made, or rather bodged, all these items.
The first two months required me to enter the oratory a quarter of an hour before sunrise, kneel before the altar and pray earnestly. This is repeated again after sunset each day. The outline requires one to praise God, confess one's unworthiness and implore him to grant success in this work. There are also recommendations about how to conduct oneself, not eating meat or sleeping during the day and suggestions for reading, etc.
One of the attractions of the Abramelin operation is that it does not insist on a parrot-like repetition of given prayers and incantations; instead, it invites you to speak from the heart and use your own preferred way of praying. This is appealing, but can present problems as you will see in the next chapter.
The second two months simply pile on the pressure—pray and study more earnestly and so on. By this time the candidate has a better idea of what they can endure.
The third two months require one to pray at noon as well as sunrise and sunset, with the addition of incense and wearing that white linen robe. It is necessary to fast once a week on “Sabbath eve”. Again, a further intensification of effort.
The finale. The final phase is quite detailed but, as my experience was curtailed, I will not spell it out in full. Read the books for more about this. On the day after completing the six-month preparation there is an initial process of anointing the various implements and items of clothing, praying according to a given outline formula before praying in the normal manner. On the following day you do not wash as normally required before entering the oratory. Instead you dress in shabby mourning clothes and humiliate yourself before fervent prayer.
At this point the services of a young child are specified. In the next chapter I discuss this challenge and how I tried to get around it. With the help of the child's seership, one is then supposed to experience the presence of the angel and the later instructions begin.
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1As this book goes to the press I have been in correspondence with Georg Dehn. He tells me that my 2006 edition of his book is out of date and that his latest edition has many more footnotes, incorporating Mathers’ more useful notes, and other useful material that should make the Mathers edition redundant.
CHAPTER TWO
Background—why I attempted the Abramelin operation
Like most children I was drawn to magic from an early age. Without any books to guide me I used to look up the word “magic” in big dictionaries or encyclopaedias and learn names for the many different types of magic—such as “black magic”, “natural magic”, “spirit magic” and so on. Then I discovered that the public library did have a few books on or around the subject, including books on Spiritism, from which I learned that it was mostly fraudulent.
The nearest available thing to an occult journal at that time was the astrology-based magazine Prediction, which had book reviews and adverts for weird stuff like dowsing pendulums and aura goggles. When I was about eleven I read its review of Watkins’ reprint of The Book of the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage. The reviewer suggested that, amongst all the available rubbish and nonsense, this book was the “real thing”. So I got my brother to order a copy from the Gloucestershire Public Library and I took it to my prep school in Bristol to study. I was only twelve years old, and the book specified that one had to be older than twenty-five to perform the operation—so I decided I would do it “when I grew up”.
Unfortunately growing up does not always lead to the sort of omnipotence that a child imagines that adults possess, so many years passed. I had also come across many other magical and spiritual systems, including extensive study of the works of Aleister Crowley and Austin Osman Spare. I had even in the mid 1970s self-published my own book about magic—SSOTBME an essay on Magic—and sold a few copies in “alternative” bookshops. Some people wrote to me as a result.
In 1976 I was renting and sharing a small cottage with a large garden on the edge of the village green in Redbourn, Hertfordshire, when I received a letter from a woman who wanted to meet me as she had an intriguing matter to discuss. This woman lived nearby in Luton, Bedfordshire, so I arranged to visit her. She had a plan to perform the Abramelin operation and she wanted me to be her guide and advisor—on the strength of my reputation as someone who knew about magic. I confessed that I could not help her. I did not feel qualified because I had not performed the operation myself.
At the time I was unhappily working as a stressman for an ailing British aircraft industry and was pretty unhappy in my career. I wanted to do something better and it occurred to me that, if I did find a better job, I would hardly want to put it aside and spend six months invoking my Holy Guardian Angel. So this might be my last chance to chuck it all in and perform the operation myself.
I re-read the book in detail, we also shared a copy of Chevalier's book, and I gave in my notice. She would