Part One: In Search of Ancient Knowledge. Gurdjieff's diary
Part two: Gurdjieff and Stalin
Part Three: Gurdjieff and Badmaev
Part Four: Gurdjieff's Intimate Secrets
Part Five: Gurdjieff and the Imperial Geographical Society
Crowley Aleister (1875-1947)
On the pages of our narrative, if not one of the main characters appears (but maybe this is exactly so), then - and this is for sure - a person who embodies one of two - occult on Earth and cosmic in the Universe - forces that are among themselves in an eternal and irreconcilable battle.
Promotional video:
So Aleister Crowley.
Let's move away from the standard: was born then. The external biography of Aleister Crowley will not go anywhere from us. Let us turn to the characterization, as well as to the attitude or feelings evoked by our hero from modern publishers who supply the book market with occult, mystical, esoteric and other similar literature, including books about Aleister Crowley and the works of the "greatest magician of the twentieth century."
Let's open a superbly published and illustrated book "The Wisdom of the Ancients and Secret Societies", translated from English (for some reason, the author or authors are not indicated), Rusich publishing house, Smolensk, 1995; chapter "Adept of Many Sects":
"The most notorious villain in the world" is not the last nickname given to Aleister Crowley. Even his own mother - as he once stated - called him "The Beast" earlier than others, by analogy with the Antichrist from the biblical Apocalypse, and his number is 666. This notorious Englishman belonged to several secret sects, was influenced by many others and became the founder of his secret society. His aspiration was to master mind-altering magic (to the word "magic" - magic - Aleister Crowley added the letter "k" and then designated what he was doing with the word "magick" to distinguish between "his magic" and simply "magic tricks "), And the basis of his methodology was sex, which he engaged in with two dozen men and women (conquering them with his irresistible charm).
In a sense, Aleister Crowley was born into a sect in 1875, although this he denied all his life. His father, a brewer from the city of Workshire, was a member of the Plymouth Brotherhood, preaching the asceticism of Christians, whose theology was so hated by Edward Alexander Crowley. He took a different name, becoming Aleister, replaced the saints who were worshiped by his parents with biblical villains and eagerly indulged in sensual passions and perverted pleasures. For example, to check if the proverb is true that cats are tenacious because they have nine lives, he gave the cat arsenic, put it to sleep with chloroform, hung it over a gas burner, stuck a dagger into it, cut its throat, smashed its head, set it on fire, dipped in water and threw out the window.
Aleister Crowley died in 1947 of heart and lung disease. By that time, he was addicted to heroin. Short of breath and asthma attacks, he ended his days in furnished rooms. However, at the end of his life, "The Beast of the Apocalypse 666" could rightfully declare that only a few of the spiritual and carnal joys were inaccessible to him. He climbed mountains, wrote poetry, drew, plunged headlong into the study of Eastern religions and even deeper into drugs. He lived according to the principle, which became his magic formula: “Do what you want. On this commandment the whole Law will be established."
The tongue goes numb. The author of the article you are immersed in reading to comment on the above lengthy quote simply does not have any words.
But let us turn to Aleister Crowley. The Book of the Law. Biography. Tarot Baphomet ", publishing house" Unicon ", 1997. Here's how publishers and compilers present our unique hero to readers:
“The English poet Aleister Crowley is the brightest star in the occult horizon of the early twentieth century. His great erudition, energy and wit were combined with an undeniable literary talent. The cornerstone of his teaching was the Rabelaisian slogan: “Do what you want! On this commandment the whole Law will be established. His stormy and insane biography perfectly illustrates this commandment: he put it into practice with enviable consistency, despite all obstacles and often even contrary to common sense. Nevertheless, those who take the trouble to read his books carefully will appreciate this paradoxical teaching. The first step to magical initiation, according to Aleister Crowley, is to comprehend your True Desire and dare to follow it from beginning to end.
Aleister Crowley introduced the practical methods of psychoanalysis into European occultism and invented many dark rituals associated with sex, "hard" drugs and sacrifice. Aleister Crowley's influence is felt in the occult mysteries of the Third Reich and in modern Satanism, although he himself was never a Nazi or a Satanist. Aleister Crowley idealized human will and the dark depths of the unconscious, from which his fantasy produced numerous "demon-angels" with outlandish names and properties. A poet and actor to the marrow of his bones, rejected and not understood by his contemporaries, he sacrificed himself on the stage of his own magical theater.
Yes … Agree, in these two paragraphs - a completely different image of the "great magician of the twentieth century." Respect, curtsy, delight. In a word, almost a panegyric. And read the above text: there is poorly hidden envy in it - the man managed to comprehend "his True Desire", and not only comprehended, but also, "no doubt, embodied from the beginning to the end."
So, the beginning of the twenty-first century. What today for humanity (or more modestly) for Europe is the legacy of Aleister Crowley, poetic (since he is presented to us as a poet), occult or (more broadly) spiritual? Maybe this gentleman has long been a dead man - in the sense of his, namely, spiritual heritage - a dead man and is not subject to resuscitation? By no means, dear ones, by no means …
And here is the objective information on this matter. Several excerpts from foreign and domestic publications:
“Persecuted and unrecognized during his lifetime, Aleister Crowley in the nineties of the twentieth century has a huge impact on the modern magical movement. In England, audio recordings of his conversations "The Beast Speaks" are distributed in thousands of copies, the autobiographical book "The Confessions of Aleister Crowley" has been on the bestseller lists for several years.
“… Aleister Crowley's motto was Thelema, which means Free Will. If you decide to follow this magical path, you need to free yourself from all conventions and develop the independence of the spirit in yourself, eventually becoming completely self-sufficient.
The attraction of the Crowleyan type of magic lies in the fact that you can and certainly must follow only your own path, creating your own style of mystical and worldly life (I will later offer readers a landscape of this life of the "great magician" in several fragments.) You don't need a priest, teacher, guru, therapist, or group leader to tell you what to do - you can only decide and understand this through your own work.
Aleister Crowley believed that a necessary part of the mystical process of self-knowledge is magical practice, which, in fact, is the art of turning the desired into reality (take your time, keep your attention on the last two words.) In the process of realizing your True Needs (I will try to decipher the last passage: what is embarrassing hiding behind the "True Needs"? In my opinion, everything is simple, like a lowing: first of all, I mean the "basic instinct" - sexual desire and the highest pleasure that the human flesh receives "as a result." Nowhere from this sweet truth, ladies and gentlemen, do not leave. And then Mr. Aleister Crowley - well done, hit the top ten. As long as the world stands, he will have admirers and followers.). Surely in the third millennium Aleister Crowley will enter as the greatest magician of the human race."
“… Whatever they say, magic is and remains a mysterious occupation for an absolute minority. Magical practice requires certain abilities such as a rich imagination, sanity and intelligence, as well as the ability to trance states, which, however, can be developed. The necessary guidance in the study of magic can be found in Aleister Crowley's books on the theory and practice of this magical science. At present, more than a hundred titles of his books have been published (in English), many have been translated into all European languages."
Quite a lot of Aleister Crowley's books have also been published in Russian. And in this regard, a few words about Aleister Crowley - a writer, both a poet and a prose writer. The maestro had a very high opinion of himself as a poet: in his autobiographical "Confessions" he notes without false modesty that "two great national poets came out of his native county in England, and we must not forget that one of them is Shakespeare." How can you not take off your hat to Mr. Aleister Crowley? He is the first national poet of "Foggy Albion", Shakespeare - the second.
So, the books of our dark hero. During the life of the singer of magic, sex and the devil, two opuses appeared, both in poetry and in prose, which earned him scandalous fame. These "works" today would surely surpass, if translated into Russian, the "coolest" of our authors of such works. A few words should be said about them. The first is a cycle of pathological poems under the elegiac title "White Spots" - about a sexual psychopath turning into a sadistic murderer of his "love victims"; the second is a collection of pornographic novels "Snowdrops from the Vicar's Garden". But one thing is certain in these two books - the author's bright, original, "free" talent.
Someone interested? Would you like to read? What? I can not hear. Do not be shy: at least admit to yourself (or to yourself): "I want to …" I hasten to please you: it looks like soon on our book market will appear - if not yet appeared - diverse works (thank God, not yet listed) by Aleister Crowley and some -what about him.
"Child of the Moon" is Aleister Crowley's most famous novel, which reflects real events that took place in London at the beginning of the century. An amazing story in the style of a mystical thriller, written in 1917. A young girl by chance finds herself involved in the war between the Black and White Lodges. The book describes the chilling rituals of necromancy, battles of magicians and astral battles (350 pages)."
The Confessions of Aleister Crowley is an autobiography full of bizarre facts and inspirational insights that the author has worked on over the years (1200 pages). " How does it feel? "Lord of the Kingdom of Shadows" is a biography of Aleister Crowley, written by his literary secretary, John Symonds."
Curious and hungry for Crowleyism can only wait for the birth of God these books.
Perhaps it should be said that our "hero" entered literature in another, indirect way: he became the prototype of the main character in the novel by his contemporary William Somerset Maugham, who is called "The Wizard" and does not fall into the ranks of the best works of this wonderful English writer.
Another hypostasis of Aleister Crowley: painting. As an amateur artist, he is also not forgotten in our time: periodically in various European countries, more often in England, exhibitions of his paintings are held. The maestro turned to drawing rather late, namely in 1920, when he got the “Thelem Abbey” in Italy (we will talk about this place of mystical unbridled orgies of the “magician” yet). The walls of this refuge of "occult magic" were covered by its owner with demonic and pornographic paintings of his own production. Hence it came: Crowley the artist was born. And, I must say, extraordinary, without any, of course, school, but - original. If we compare his painting with someone else's, then an analogy only with Niko Pirosmani suggests itself - the same colors, the same "primitive", only the subject matter is different.
One well-known critic who visited the exhibition of paintings by Aleister Crowley, held in Berlin in 1930, wrote:
"His paintings are interesting solely because they are revelations of a complex soul, pursued by a host of fantastic visions."
The favorite subject of the depicted characters for painting was himself. And in this regard - only about one work: "Self-portrait in the image of the Antichrist." There is no external similarity. Another thing is surprising: before us is the face of an alien, as aliens from other worlds began to be depicted - according to "eyewitnesses" - in the second half of the twentieth century (and of which, naturally, Aleister Crowley had no idea at all periods of his stormy life): an elongated face with obvious features of demonism, a huge bald skull, a long slit of the eyes, black Mephistophelian eyebrows, a straight gaze, hard and unforgiving, thick shadows on the cheeks, above the bridge of the nose there is a cabalistic sign in the form of a trident; the picture is painted in dark blue colors. Yes! There is a "hairstyle" on the bald skull. But, not knowing one feature of the maestro, you will not immediately decipher this figure. The thing is,that the “great magician” wore at the time of Thelem Abbey a very original, to put it mildly, hairstyle: he laid out one lock of hair on his head in the form of a phallus. This is the instrument of astral sex that is depicted in "Self-portrait". Here, perhaps, it is appropriate to say about one more detail of the appearance of the real Aleister Crowley: in addition to the phallus on the head, the maestro also sawed his teeth, sharpening them, like those of vampires, and sometimes, meeting women who were "in his ecstasy" them when kissing the hand on the wrist. According to contemporaries, the effect in the overwhelming majority of cases was “positive”.it is pertinent to say about one more detail of the appearance of the real Aleister Crowley: in addition to the phallus on the head, the maestro also sawed his teeth, sharpening them like those of vampires, and sometimes, meeting women who were "in his ecstasy", glared at them when kissing his hand in the wrist. According to contemporaries, the effect in the overwhelming majority of cases was “positive”.it is pertinent to say about one more detail of the appearance of the real Aleister Crowley: in addition to the phallus on the head, the maestro also sawed his teeth, sharpening them like those of vampires, and sometimes, meeting women who were "in his ecstasy", glared at them when kissing his hand in the wrist. According to contemporaries, the effect in the overwhelming majority of cases was “positive”.
Finally, one last thing. Already during his lifetime Aleister Crowley was very popular in the musical environment - among singers (and singers), instrumental composers; many of his poems in the twenties and thirties became popular songs - hits, as they would say now. And, which is quite remarkable, in the second half of the last century, many pop musicians made the "great magician" their idol. Perhaps they were impressed by Aleister Crowley's motto: “Do what you want. On this commandment the whole Law will be affirmed”- or his addiction to drugs. Characteristically: among the faces on the cover of the Beatles' album, Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Orchestra, one can see the outline of the Beast of the Apocalypse …
So, it should be stated - with regret or as an objective reality, that in our time, at the turn of the third millennium, of all the "great" occultists of the twentieth century, Aleister Crowley is the most popular and attractive for our contemporaries interested in the occult phenomenon. You ask why? For now, I will say one thing: there is God, omnipotent and all-right, full of universal Love. But there is Satan, there is Satanism and Satanists, worshipers and servants of the Prince of Darkness.
And now let's turn to some facts of the biography of the "great magician".
Edward Alexander Crowley was born on October 12, 1875. This date is remarkable for two events connected with occultism. Our hero made mankind happy with his appearance in the year when Eliphas Levi, the famous French mystic, who is rightfully considered the father of modern occultism, died; in his works "Dogma and Ritual in Higher Magic", "History of Magic" and "Key to Secrets", written in a simple, clear and aphoristic language, Eliphas Levi first introduced the concept of "occult knowledge". (Subsequently, Aleister Crowley claimed that in a previous life he was Eliphas Levi, and Eliphas Levi himself was the incarnation of Count Cagliostro and Pope Alexander VI of Borgia. The great mystifier was the furious Aleister Crowley.) And in 1875 in the United States of America (USA) Helena Petrovna Blavatsky created the Theosophical Society.
The father of the future magician Edward Crowley was a successful brewer: on his signature beer "Crowley" he amassed a hefty fortune and, bequeathing it to his son Alexander, retired to devote his life to preaching the doctrines of the ascetic Christian sect "Plymouth Brothers". The Crowley family lived in Leamington, a small, quiet town near Stratford-upon-Avon. (William Shakespeare was born in Stradford - on - Avon). And although Crowley Sr. left this mortal world when Alexander was eleven years old, he managed to give his son quite a decent education: in the year of his father's death, the boy entered the private school of the Plymouth Brothers sect in Cambridge; Obviously, it was here that the spirit of rebellion awoke in him - first of all, against the Puritan faith of his parents. In his autobiography, entitled, as the reader already knows, "The Confessions of Aleister Crowley," he explains,that his subsequent "Satanism" (black magic, witchcraft) was nothing more than a rebellion against the religion of his childhood:
"My sex life was very intense, love was a challenge to the Christian faith, which was degradation and curse."
Alexander was fourteen years old when a young servant showed a certain interest in him, and the teenager immediately took her to his mother's bedroom and took possession of her there.
In 1891, an important event happened in the life of our hero (Alexander is sixteen years old): he tried to set up fireworks, but took too much gunpowder - ten pounds. The boy lit the fuse, and a deafening explosion thundered. Alexander Crowley, balancing on the brink of life and death, was unconscious for ninety-six hours and "returned" to earth "from the tunnel, in which he met SOMETHING that will never be told to anyone."
The next year, Alexander entered a private privileged school for boys and, after studying there for a short time, became a student at Oxford. The young man became interested in alchemy and therefore defined his future profession with the word "chemist" (however, this hobby was short-lived). However, in the field of alchemy at that time he had a teacher, a certain George Cecil Jones, who would introduce the young mystic Alexander Crowley into the Order of the Golden Dawn, headed by the "greatest magician" who comes into contact with secret leaders - this is none other than Samuel Liddell McGregor Mathers.
By this time, Alistair (already Alistair) was the only heir to a large fortune: his mother had died. Continuing his studies, he lives in Oxford on a grand scale, becomes an excellent chess player, publishes poetry, as they would say now, "at his own expense", gains the experience of same-sex love - and thus lays the foundation for his gloomy reputation. It is then that he writes in his own diary:
“Even in adolescence, I knew that I was the Beast, whose number was 666. I still did not fully understand where this was leading: it was a passionate, ecstatic feeling of my own personality.
In my third year at Cambridge, I consciously devoted myself to the Great Work, that is, Making of myself a Spiritual Being, free from contradictions, accidents and illusions of material life."
By the same time he began to engage in practical occultism, leading the young man to the Order of the Golden Dawn; in two years he passed all the degrees of initiation in this closed box; in the Order, he adopted a secret name - Perdurabo, which translated from Latin means: "I will endure." Always striving for primacy, not tolerating supremacy over himself, Aleister Crowley tried to oust Mathers from the Order of the Golden Dawn and stand at the head of the lodge. An "occult war" began between them; according to the members of the lodge, it was a duel between two magicians, a white and a black, and this is how a contemporary describes this fight:
“Mathers sent a vampire to his rival, but Aleister Crowley struck him down with his own torrent of evil. However, Mathers managed to destroy the whole pack of Aleister Crowley's cops and send madness to his servant, who made an unsuccessful attempt on the life of his master. In response, Aleister Crowley summoned the demon Beelzebub and his forty-nine assistants and sent them to punish Mathers, who was in Paris. However, members of the Golden Dawn rallied around Mathers and expelled Aleister Crowley from their ranks."
These are occult passions …
But the expulsion from the Order did not in the least discourage the young mystic and practical occultist. He began to think about creating his own lodge, and very soon his attention would focus on the Order of the Templars of the East, founded in Germany (perhaps that is why Aleister Crowley considered Germany his "second home"); in the not too distant future for his "abbey" he will take from the Templars the basis of their "faith", namely: sex is the key to human nature, and an orgasm, elevated to a special status, can become a supernatural experience, leading to complete emancipation of the individual.
In the meantime, his father's fortune is still far from wasted, although our hero, without hesitation, throws money right and left - the frantic Aleister Crowley rents for magic in Scotland on Loch Ness (yes - yes, ladies and gentlemen on
the very one where they are looking for and will never find a mysterious monster) something like a small estate, rather, a farm and calls himself "the landowner from Boulskine." He begins magical actions with the fact that, having created the ritual he himself created, he begins to call his guardian angel. According to the Loch Ness legend, instead of him, a whole host of evil spirits appeared to Aleister Crowley. However, they were all his own, expressing the essence of the owner, demons, and with them he conducted intimate conversations. The real Demon of Hell once appeared to him. And then … Already some modern researchers of the Loch Ness monster phenomenon argue that the Demon of Hell persecuted maestro Aleister Crowley with his harassment so much that the great magician eventually "fused" - in the literal sense of the word - an annoying monster into the lake, and he now lives in its gloomy depths. In this whole story, one thing is indisputable: there really is something in Loch Ness.
A little clarification is required for Aleister Crowley's biography as a spy. In not a single biography of our hero, written in the West, you will find a mention, not even a hint, that Aleister Crowley from a young age and, obviously, until the end of his days, collaborated with British foreign intelligence, as well as with Scotland Yard, was an experienced and skillful spy primarily in the countries of the East and Asia; moreover, since the thirties, he was a double agent, benefiting on the "invisible front" not only to his country, but also to another powerful power in Europe.
This is how Igor Aleksandrovich Minutko describes his recruitment in his book “George Gurdjieff. Russian Lama :
“On July 14, 1901, it was raining in London, and the head of the Admiralty - a lean gentleman with a squeamish and haughty expression on his face, about sixty years old, suffering from gout, a deep connoisseur of William Shakespeare, a lover of chess, oysters and hot grog, a passionate hunter and a secret gambler on the stock exchange - stood at the high window of his office and through the glass, on which the thinnest film of rainwater crawled down, looked at the Thames embankment and at the dim outlines of buildings on the opposite bank of the river.
The owner of the cabinet was in a bad mood: what he had foreseen, what he had repeatedly warned about in the House of Lords, alas, is coming true.
- Yes, yes, highly esteemed (and copper-faced - this is for myself) colleagues! - he said at one of the last sessions of the chamber. - I have warned the high assembly many times: our foreign policy in the East will inevitably clash with the interests of Russia in this many-sided and richest region. He persuaded: preventive measures are needed, first of all in China and Tibet, so that the Russians do not get ahead of us!
“And now - we are finished! But this … how is it? Back in 1896 …”The head of the Admiralty turned to the creak of the door. His secretary entered the office, a plump, middle-aged man, about whom only one thing could be said: he looks remarkably like a big, important bulldog who stands on his hind legs and knows how to talk.
“He's in the waiting room, Your Grace.
A table clock with a heavy gilded pendulum in the form of a round ship's rudder slowly, seemingly lazily, began to strike the time - ten o'clock in the morning.
- Please, Charles.
A secretary named Charles disappeared, and a young man appeared in the office, who at that moment was twenty-six years old, but he looked younger: slender, graceful, with regular features: dark eyes under short black eyebrows with a capricious break, a straight nose - well just flawless, "Roman", small mouth, sensual lips. True, the ears are slightly protruding, but this, you see, is a trifle. And in general, the point here is not in appearance, but in something completely different … Someone attracted, even fascinated, an early visitor to the Admiralty: his relaxedness and self-esteem.
- Hello, your lordship! - The voice is soft, calm and, if you listen to it more closely, a little mocking. - This time, it seems, I was not late.
“For which I am extremely grateful to you, Mr. Crowley. - The owner of the office was obviously shocked by something. - Please, have a seat.
“Thank you, Your Grace.
- We have a conversation of extreme importance, affecting the state interests of Great Britain.
“I’m all attention, Your Grace! - However, along with a slight interest in the voice of a young man, comfortably seated in an armchair, there was an obvious mockery, which, if desired, can be understood as follows: "Yes, I did not care about your state interests!"
- So, Mr. Crowley, now about the state interests of the United Kingdom in the Asian region, and more precisely, in China, Tibet and Korea. I will not go into details and talk about these interests of ours.
- I am very grateful to you, - interrupted the visitor, crossing his legs and slightly wiggling the toe of his shoe. - We will do without details. I, Your Grace, am far from politics. The sphere of my interests and searches is completely different.
- I know I know! - the owner of the cabinet went on swallowing the pill. - So … Russia is becoming our enemy, or, more precisely, a rival in the East. However, she has always been our rival! - the head of the Admiralty raised his voice, clearly addressing his invisible opponents.
- Am I going to go to Russia? Crowley asked with undisguised interest.
- Yes, to Russia! But not to European, not to St. Petersburg or Moscow, but to Asian Russia. After all, this barbaric country is Eurasian.
- And where will my path lead?
- To the Urals, to the Trans-Baikal steppes, or more precisely, to the city of Chita.
- What am I going to do in this hole? And how are the interests of Great Britain infringed there?
- Here! The question is on the merits. Bravo, Mr. Crowley! We come to the main point. The information that I have came to us from St. Petersburg. They need to be checked on the spot. ” The head of the Admiralty, getting up, took a sheet from the writing table and again plunged his thin body into a chair. Glancing into the paper, he continued: - A certain Pyotr Badmaev, a well-known doctor in Russia who treats his patients according to the methods of Tibetan medicine, an approximate of the Russian Tsar Nicholas II, has organized a center in Chita, from where an intensive expansion, while economic, is now underway, to countries about which I said. But above all, to China.
- Can you, Your Grace, clarify what this means?
- Excuse me. From Chita, Mr. Badmayev equips expeditions of a very different nature to the neighboring eastern states - ethnographic, religious, geographical. And the military. - An ominous emphasis was placed on the word military.
- I.e? Aleister Crowley interrupted.
- Simply in the interior regions of these countries, in the mountains of Tibet and Mongolia, for example, consignments of weapons are delivered …
“In other words,” the impatient morning visitor to the Admiralty interrupted again, “you mean to say that the Russians cook there … What? Mutiny? A revolution? If so, for what purpose?
- So far I do not want to say anything specifically. The information received, as I said, needs to be checked and clarified. We hope to get the data we are interested in firsthand. From your lips, Mr. Crowley.
The future "great magician of the twentieth century" stood up and bowed.
“Thank you for your confidence.” There was a clear irony in his voice.
The owner of the office pretended not to notice anything.
“You asked what is the purpose of the Russians in these countries,” he continued. “First of all, in the richest China. Everything is elementary, my friend. There is a struggle for influence. What does it mean? As everywhere, as in all countries that are just embarking on the path of civilized development. Whose capital will be invested in their economy? Who will they trade with? Whose religious emissaries will lead the ignorant, misguided crowds? - The head of the Admiralty was more and more inspired, his eyes sparkled, it seems that he himself was delighted with his inspired speech. - Finally, cultural influence. How important it is! How fundamentally important!..
- Well?..- Aleister Crowley brought him back to reality.
- We must not allow the Russians to enter this region! - The head of the Admiralty raised his voice. - They have, - there was a pause, - like us, there are only two ways! I have already said about the first one: economic expansion, and the second path is military. Here the option that you mentioned is possible: organizing or staging an armed rebellion, riot or revolution … What a vile word - "revolution"! And all this with the aim of planting a government in the country that will carry out the necessary - in our case, Russia needs - foreign and domestic policy. But there is also a second option: direct military intervention - war, if you will. A plausible pretext for the so-called public opinion to start a war, I assure you, can always be found. And then … - followed by a heavy sigh, - … until the annexation of country X to its territories.
Aleister Crowley whistled: he was getting more and more interesting.
- Mr. Badmaev is probably carrying out a detailed plan, which, no doubt, has been approved at the very top in St. Petersburg and, most likely, funded by the Russian government. Your task, Mr. Crowley, is to find out in all the details … or I will say so - in all possible details to find out this plan. And now we are just going to painlessly introduce you - in the center of Petr Badmaev in Chita. The operation is already being developed in Scotland Yard and so far, at the stage of the first estimates, it is called … - the head of the Admiralty smiled for the first time, - … you will never guess how!
“You were talking too broadly.” Aleister Crowley’s face was tense. “Be specific: one or two hints, some tiny detail, even a single one, and I'll try to guess.
- Enough! - the owner of the office waved his hands. - All this is very far from today's reality. I will not tempt you while the operation is called the Throne of Genghis Khan.
- How lovely! - Crowley exclaimed. - Maybe you can tell me at least some details of the upcoming operation?
- Excuse me, my friend. But only when the time comes. All the details if you take up this case, including the financing of your responsible mission, you will receive at Scotland Yard. Well, now - why "Genghis Khan's Throne"?..
They talked for about half an hour, and their conversation finally became friendly. At the end, the head of the Admiralty said:
“Now I want from you, Mr. Crowley, a short answer to a short question: do you accept our offer?
- Yes, I accept it.
The gentlemen shook hands firmly. Outside the high windows of the office it was still raining and falling …"
And now let's go directly with you to the next pages of the diary of George Ivanovich Gurdjieff. So, further in the diary it is written:
"Luck? Maybe this is the way to explain everything that happened to me in Badmaev's camp after the meeting with Pyotr Alexandrovich. Then I said to myself: "Me and" The one who … "is fabulously lucky." Now I understand that underneath all these events lies the foundation that feeds the rapidly developing situation with its own - special - forces and energy. And the events really piled one on top of the other at a hurricane speed.
Two days later, Dr. Badmaev, having reviewed the cost estimate for the expedition to the mountains of Tibet behind the throne of Genghis Khan, which I submitted, approved it, and the total amount was indicated at 200 thousand gold rubles. Seeing this amount already on the form of the contract, I, in the literal sense of the word, almost fainted.
True, in one of our business meetings, Pyotr Alexandrovich said:
- You, Arseny Nikolaevich, will receive this money in parts. The first - seventy-five thousand - is at your disposal from today. And this amount will be used to equip the expedition here in Chita. Buy whatever you need, hire people. If there will be difficulties - contact me without ceremony. I will help you in everything. The only thing that you should do without fail is to provide our accounting department with all bills, checks, receipts, contracts under which the money will be spent.
- Certainly, - I said, depressed. - And, excuse me, the rest of the amounts …
Badmaev smiled faintly.
- Let's go to the map, - he said (we were in Badmaev's office). - Look … On your map - only Tibet. But the distance from Chita to the Russian border is also considerable. You see?
- Yes, Pyotr Alexandrovich.
- You have to, moving from north to south-west, pass through Mongolia, cross the Gobi desert, several provinces of China, among them the provinces of Gansu and Qinghai, where you have to hand over letters to their abbots in eight Buddhist monasteries. We talked about this, didn't we?
- So, Pyotr Alexandrovich.
“But most of the monasteries to which my messages need to be delivered are in Tibet.” Doctor Badmaev looked at me and was completely calm. “So, only after walking great distances across Mongolia and China, with God's help, you will find yourself in Tibet. The path is long. And dangerous. Carrying large sums of money is a huge risk. Anything can happen, let's face it. Do you agree with me?
- Absolutely agree!
- And therefore, Arseny Nikolaevich, on the border of China and Tibet - it is, of course, conditional - there is a small town of Keten and in it a branch of the Beijing Commercial Bank. There I keep a certain, I will not hide from you, a considerable amount for the costs associated with my activities in Tibet, and this activity, take my word for it, is multifaceted.
- No doubt! - burst out from me.
Pyotr Alexandrovich smiled tightly and continued:
- In Keten in the bank you will receive the next seventy-five thousand rubles. Since our rubles are backed by gold, you can be presented with Chinese yuan, British pounds sterling, and American dollars. At your discretion. Find your bearings on the spot.
“I’ll know how to orientate myself! - I thought, rejoicing and trying in every possible way to hide my glee from the interlocutor. - This money will go to the throne of Genghis Khan!"
“I'll hand you the checks here - to bearer. This banking procedure is fine-tuned for me. Receive them on the day the expedition departs. And now … Here's a check for the first seventy-five thousand, also payable, to the Chita Credit Bank.
And an oblong thick piece of paper was handed over to me. On it I saw only the number - "75 OOO" …
- Go ahead, Arseny Nikolaevich! And keep me informed of your business. There is no need to rush, but also to delay … Do you know the motto of Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy?
We've both got up from our chairs. I, in complete confusion and delight tearing me apart, was silent.
- Take this motto, my friend, into service: without haste and without rest. Good luck!
Pyotr Alexandrovich held out his hand to me. His grip was firm and energetic. I went to the door, feeling Badmaev's gaze piercing right through me.
- Mr. Bolotov! - his voice stopped me, and there was a poorly hidden irony in him. - What are you, my dear! And the remaining fifty thousand?
Turning around, I spread my hands helplessly.
- Indeed … - and violently, youthfully, blushed.
- You will receive them on the way back to Xining City. It is located in Qinghai Province. There is also a branch of the Beijing Commercial Bank. I just told you that I’ll give you checks, not a check. You are inattentive. So, good luck again!
The following days and weeks turned into a motley, rapid kaleidoscope: correspondence with friends from Alexandropol and Kars, who agreed to take part in the upcoming expedition ("If it takes place," I told them), - in the end, from my Caucasian peers on a long trip five people; purchase of horses, road equipment, weapons; banking operations, reports, scrupulously submitted by me to the accounting department of "P. A. Badmaev & Co. Trading House"; twice - secret meetings in Chita with messengers from St. Petersburg from Koba and Bokiy: from me - oral information, from them - instructions, also oral, in a commanding tone that does not tolerate objection ("Well, we'll see who is in command of the parade here."); study of the most detailed maps of Mongolia and Central China, the territories through which our route to Tibet ran (“And then,” I said to myself,and my heart was poured with impatient heat - along my route on the cherished map. And now no one here but me knows him … ").
Everything was arguing, work was in full swing, everything worked out. Now I understand: SOMEONE powerful and stubborn steadily helped me, and if I suddenly froze or abandoned what I had planned, I would probably be forced, forced to do what was destined by fate.
One day there was a knock on the door of my room early in the morning. And by a delicate, careful knock, I recognized who was there in the corridor …
But first, a few words about the "guest house" in the Chita possessions of Dr. Badmaev. Yes, it was a hotel, but not an ordinary one. Everyone who settled here was provided with separate rooms: a spacious room with a minimum of furniture, a bathroom and a shower with hot water, a warm water closet, a telephone - through the switchboard one could call the office, the secretary's office, or Pyotr Alexandrovich himself, the accounting department, the post office, to the infirmary, in which there was a pharmacy, where Tibetan medicines predominated, to two main warehouses and - to the sentry. At the "guest house" there was a free buffet with a variety of snacks and hot dishes of European and Eastern cuisines, there were absolutely no alcoholic drinks on the menu, which were not forbidden, but were tacitly condemned. And then there was a large living room with comfortable upholstered furniture, with two bookcases (come and take books,which you will find for yourself, according to taste and preferences); on the tables - always fresh newspapers and magazines, local and metropolitan. Here is such a "guest house", no payment was charged from the residents. Mostly foreigners lived in this more than a kind of hotel: merchants, engineers, businessmen - in a word, specialists of various professions with whom the "Trading House" did business. Compatriots like me rarely happened here. Another feature: only male servants - young people, all Buryats, well-trained, polite, taciturn. Perfect cleanliness has always reigned here, I would say: sterile, medical. And the chefs in the buffet were two Chinese, also young, true masters of their craft.no payment was charged to residents. Mostly foreigners lived in this more than a kind of hotel: merchants, engineers, businessmen - in a word, specialists of various professions with whom the "Trading House" did business. Compatriots like me rarely happened here. Another feature: only male servants - young people, all Buryats, well-trained, polite, taciturn. Perfect cleanliness has always reigned here, I would say: sterile, medical. And the chefs in the buffet were two Chinese, also young, true masters of their craft.no payment was charged to residents. Mostly foreigners lived in this more than a kind of hotel: merchants, engineers, businessmen - in a word, specialists of various professions with whom the "Trading House" did business. Compatriots like me rarely happened here. Another feature: only male servants - young people, all Buryats, well-trained, polite, taciturn. Perfect cleanliness has always reigned here, I would say: sterile, medical. And the chefs in the buffet were two Chinese, also young, true masters of their craft.only male servants - young people, all Buryats, well-trained, polite, taciturn. Perfect cleanliness has always reigned here, I would say: sterile, medical. And the chefs in the buffet were two Chinese, also young, true masters of their craft.only male servants - young people, all Buryats, well-trained, polite, taciturn. Perfect cleanliness has always reigned here, I would say: sterile, medical. And the chefs in the buffet were two Chinese, also young, true masters of their craft.
So, early in the morning - it was July in the yard, and it seemed that recently the green festive steppe was already burnt out by the merciless sun, it turned brownish-brown, dull and monotonous - there was a delicate knock on my door, and I knew that only Ivan Petrovich could knock like that. Zhigmutov, - he, on behalf of Badmayev, took care of me and with cheerful diligence helped in everything. I just got up and, shaved, was about to go to the buffet for breakfast. "Obviously Ivan Petrovich has something urgent."
I opened the door. Yes, before me stood a smiling Mr. Zhigmutov, as always, impeccably dressed, smart, affable. And behind him - three young people, all Buryats, in national summer robes made of light brown satin, belted with black belts, and in round felt hats with a pointed top. They looked like siblings - perhaps the reason for this impression was the obvious tension, the concentration on their swarthy faces.
- Good morning, Arseny Nikolaevich! Sorry for intruding so early. Circumstances…
“You go into the room,” I interrupted.
Ten minutes later everything became clear: the three young men introduced to me (I now cannot remember their Buryat names, and it doesn't matter) turned out to be the “people of Badmaev” who would become ordinary members of the expedition.
“I think,” said Ivan Petrovich, “it’s best for them to be your guard. They are warriors. And some haste of today's acquaintance … The fact is that they are already leaving for Mongolia today, in a sense they will prepare your expedition …
- In what sense? I interrupted.
- Well … In any case, at the first stage of the journey in Mongolia, you need to adapt, you need to get used to the environment … This is the soil they will prepare.
Everything Ivan Petrovich said sounded somewhat abstract and incomprehensible, but I did not ask further, clarify, instinctively feeling that this was not necessary now: "Everything will be clarified later, on the way." And so it turned out … And the soldiers, refusing to sit down, stood frozen at the walls - mysteriously silent, and on their impassive oriental faces it was impossible to read anything.
- My new friends don't speak Russian? I asked.
“We all speak Russian,” one of them said without any accent.
And here, perhaps, I must admit that I spoke with an accent in Russian. And so far this has not become obsolete … how to say - a flaw, a flaw? Let there be a flaw.
- Now, Arseny Nikolaevich, - said Mr. Zhigmutov, - you should remember these people. And as soon as you and your expedition cross the Mongolian border, they will find you themselves. The purpose of our morning visit has been achieved - you have met, and a meeting with your guards in Mongolia and their joining your squad will not come as a surprise.
- Of course! - I hastened to assure.
Immediately the "guard", all three, nodding briefly to me in a military manner, silently and noiselessly left, and I had the feeling that they were not there at all: spirits, morning dreams …
- Do not be surprised, - Ivan Petrovich Zhigmutov laughed. - They are really military people, they underwent special training - this is how the Mongols raised their soldiers in ancient times. If you want … Let me tell you a secret: they are, so to speak, from the personal guard of Peter Alexandrovich Badmaev. And from him they received the order: during the expedition to guard you like the apple of an eye. And for them, the order of Peter Alexandrovich, their spiritual father, is the main, the only law by which they are guided.
And I realized: this "secret" was revealed to me for sure with the knowledge of Badmaev himself, and perhaps on his instructions. We talked a little more about all sorts of meaningless trifles, and Mr. Zhigmutov also left. He was clearly in a hurry somewhere. I was left alone and could not get rid of the feeling of discomfort: something was happening with a minus sign. What?.. I couldn't understand. After all, Pyotr Alexandrovich and I agreed in advance on the introduction of Badmaev's people into the expedition. Ivan Petrovich Zhigmutov behaved somewhat strangely. Perhaps he was nervous, which had never happened to him before. “This is all nonsense! - I finally decided. - Painfully I become suspicious. Everything is going as well as possible. " Indeed, for the expedition to Tibet, basically everything was ready: equipment, food, weapons, animal-drawn vehicles were purchased; the route has been meticulously worked out;only about forty thousand rubles were spent, and Pyotr Alexandrovich at our last meeting, having looked at the accounting statements, said:
- You will probably need the remaining amount when crossing Mongolia, the Gobi Desert, China. After all, you only take provisions for the first two or three weeks of the journey. Then you will buy it from the local population. Speaking of food on your trip …
And then from Pyotr Aleksandrovich Badmaev I received invaluable advice, which I followed all my wandering life:
- I would like to draw your attention, my friend, to one circumstance. Rather, one European delusion. The arithmetic average European goes on a long journey - say, to exotic Eastern or Asian countries. And he carries with him a load of European products, as close as possible to his "European cuisine". Absurd! Absurd, my friend! Always on such trips, you need to eat as an ordinary local resident of the country in which you find yourself. By no means local delicacies, not the cuisine of aristocratic gourmets, in whose environment you can get. Eat what an ordinary citizen of a given country, a working family, be they peasants or artisans eats. Find out what they eat day in and day out and follow their menu. Because in their diet there is a centuries-old experience, the adaptation of the human body to local conditions. This is my advice. I will give a Tibetan powder for all the members of your expedition: take it in the morning, on an empty stomach, with a glass of pure, better than spring water. Disinfection of the stomach, daily prophylaxis - and you will not be afraid of any diseases.
To all travelers and itinerants I address this advice of Dr. Badmaev.
Now we could hit the road. But … My colleagues from Alexandropol and Kars have not yet arrived in Chita. Yes, five people, whom I fully trusted, had no doubts about the reliability of each of them, consent to this difficult and dangerous undertaking was given. They all had to arrive together, they all had things to complete, settle, and it took time.
Meanwhile, the middle of August 1901 had already crept up. I was expecting my Caucasians (however, two of them were Russians) at the end of the month, at the very least - in the first days of September. And our expedition would set off, I assumed, between the fifteenth and twentieth of September. And on the nineteenth of August - this day I remember well - a certain event happened.
It was evening. Having dined before going to bed in my guest house room, I pored over a Russian-Chinese dictionary published - which surprised me a lot - in Beijing in 1873; the dictionary was solid, thick, cleverly and easily compiled, it was a pleasure to work with it, at least for me. The window was thrown open on a warm, even sultry August evening, the dark purple sky above the Trans-Baikal steppe blinked with the first, still dim stars, the smell of the earth red-hot during the day was tart, thick, it was dominated by the bitter aroma of wormwood; the grasshoppers were chasing one another, sometimes close, sometimes distant, and in this call there was something ancient, eternal, tormenting the soul, unsolved, incomprehensible …
There were three energetic knocks on the door. Surprised ("Who could it be so late?"), I said:
- Come in! Not locked …
A young man appeared in the room (“My peer,” I defined then); however, perhaps he was several years older than me. The first thing that struck my imagination was his picturesque defiant beauty: absolutely regular facial features, aristocratic pallor, grace in everything - in clothes (he was wearing a brown travel suit, comfortable black boots made of soft gray leather and - which was not perceived at all in contrast - a black bow tie, propping up the collar of a white shirt, clearly worn just now), in a manner of free, uninhibited hold, in the plasticity of movements. And - eyes … Dark, burning eyes under short thick eyebrows, full of thoughts, fire, energy; there was something mesmerizing in their eyes.
Second surprise: German, in which the unexpected guest spoke to me. He straight off, still standing in the doorway, asked:
- Do you speak German?
“Rather, I understand,” I answered slowly, translating this phrase from Armenian into German, and - I felt it myself - I spoke with a monstrous accent.
- Perfectly! - the young man rejoiced. - So, hello!
- Hello, - I answered. - Come in. Sit down.
Then we spoke German, and with each phrase it got better and better (I mean myself).
- Allow me to introduce myself: Arthur Kraline, a merchant from Cologne!
- Very nice. Arseny Nikolaevich Bolotov, geographer.
- How lovely! Geographer! Apart from commerce, my passion is travel and mountain climbing. So I’ll end my business here, with Mr. Badmaev, and I intend to go to the Himalayas, to conquer the highest peaks of the world Chogori and Kanchenjunga. Unless, of course, my plans are interrupted by the end of the world, predicted by the sages at the end of the last century or at the beginning of the coming one. It is interesting, you see, to live at the turn of two centuries.
- Interesting … And you, Mr. Kraline …
… - Let's put aside secular stiffness. I am Arthur, you are Arseny. Do not you mind?
- I don’t mind. And what, Arthur, are you doing? What's your business?
- I am an amateur in commerce. The sphere of my fundamental interests is different. Of course, there is a certain financial interest, but this is so … More for the sake of excitement. I am a wealthy man: my father was a successful brewer, he left me a decent inheritance. Yes … I answer your question. Barter trade. I am an intermediary in such transactions. Here he delivered to Mr. Badmaev a huge amount of medicines and medical equipment for a very substantial amount. And from here, for the same amount, with some interest, I have to bring to Germany, to Frankfurt am Main, to be precise, Russian furs, furs, as they say here. I agreed to this long trip for the only reason: I wanted to get to Russia, to its distance and wilds. Your country interests me, fascinates me. How else to say? Excites. I found out in the buffet that out of everyone who now lives in this hotel, you are the only Russian. The rest are Europeans, Mongols, Chinese, there is even a Japanese here. But I am primarily interested in Russia. And therefore my first unofficial visit is to you. I'm sorry, without any ceremony. There is such a thing, and I cannot do anything with myself. And if you are Russian …
- I am a citizen of the Russian Empire.
- What's the difference, Arseny? I have a lot of questions for you. While I was driving through the endless Russian expanses … However, I will have time to ask my questions. I have a proposal for you …
And only here my unexpected guest got up from his chair, walked over to the windowsill, on which was a Russian-Chinese dictionary, and leafed through it.
- So … I see: you comprehend the Chinese letter. And it turns out, I pulled you away from your evening classes?
- Somewhat.
- Spit, Arseny! These hieroglyphs will not leave you anywhere. Moment! Is the Chinese language somehow related to your geographic interests in this Asian wilderness?
- Connected.
- Spit it anyway! We have a life ahead of you, we will have time for everything. And I have the following proposal. I will not hide … Arriving in Chita, for the first two days, one might say, incognito, I lived in the Baikal hotel. They told me: the best. Nothing, bearable. So, Arseny, there is one cheerful house in Chita … However, there are three of them in this small town. I got acquainted with all. Alone, he is supported by a certain gentleman, whom everyone calls Abdula there - very good. It is interesting, first of all, for its oriental exoticism: the girls are mainly Buryat, Mongolian, Chinese, maybe Korean, Japanese. It is impossible to distinguish by ethnicity. In any case, a European. But everything is lovely! However, there are Russians, too, beauties - you will lick your fingers. And, as I was told, there are two French women, for an amateur. This is obviously already exotic for local sexual gourmets. In a word,Arseny, I suggest: we are going to the sinful women, whom the skinhead Abdula offers to clients. Or are you against?
- No I do not mind.
I affirm, now I affirm that it was not I who said it, but someone else, against my will, but in my voice.
… Arthur Kraline and I returned from the brothel in the morning half-drunk, devastated (however, this is me about myself …) and have already become sincere friends who have no secrets from each other. Agree: if at the first acquaintance friendship is sealed in such an extravagant way, it means something.
I want to say: this is the first time in my life that I got into such an institution. And I confess: I don’t regret it. First - let's remember Father Bosch - I was no longer a Madjar, a young unfermented grape juice, I stepped over my twentieth birthday, a drop of sexual alcohol could not spoil my blood, which became strong wine. And I longed for women, not yet being able to easily, freely converge with them. My "moral", maybe my father's upbringing did not allow me to "take" a prostitute on the panel or go to a brothel alone. Secondly … How to put it more precisely? Probably so: most men (and possibly women too) do not know their sexual capabilities. And to open them, you have to go through THIS: to get - at least once in your life - into the arms of a professional. It happened to me that night. And for the experience in the institution of the rather ominous Mr. Abdula, I will forever remain grateful to Arthur Kraline, no matter what … Despite everything that happened in the future.
And what then? In the meantime, we have become friends with a German merchant Arthur Kralain. We met every day, there were a lot of topics for conversation, I liked Arthur more and more for the liveliness of his extraordinary quick mind, originality of judgments, cheerful independent disposition, pressure and freedom. He was absolutely not bound by any generally accepted rules, he lived the way he wanted. And with all this, I will not hide, he was close to me: I was more and more dissatisfied with the society in which I lived.
I am not going to hide: he and I visited Mr. Abdula's "merry house" several times and two other similar establishments that existed in the then Chita. But we were both engaged in our own affairs with zeal: I - preparing an expedition to Tibet, Arthur - fur trade. He had more free time, and often a new friend helped me with diligence, involuntarily penetrating into my worries and problems. Somehow it happened by itself that he became aware of the purpose of our expedition: to get the throne of Genghis Khan. As a matter of fact, Pyotr Aleksandrovich Badmaev's inner circle no longer made a secret of this: expenses for my needs were covered by accounting documents, the humanitarian plans of the Trading House included the Museum “Culture of the East of Russia” (as it was now called on the initiative of Badmaev).
On September 8, my Caucasians finally arrived, all five, full of enthusiasm and impatience, and the day of our expedition's departure from Chita was determined: September 20, 1901. About a week before this significant event, in the evening with a bottle of German schnapps (where did he dug it in our trans-Ural wilderness?) Arthur Kralain came to me, excitedly excited and, I noticed, tense at the same time. Uncorking the bottle and filling two-thirds of the glasses, he said:
- Arseny! I was wandering around the camp on the steppe and … In a word, I had a brilliant idea, which is not a sin to bring to life. I hope you support me. And for this idea I propose to drink. - Arthur reached out to me with his glass: according to Russian custom, he used to clink glasses. - Let's go!
- Wait! - I cooled the impatience of my new friend. - First, state the idea.
- Please! I told you: having finished business with Mr. Badmaev … And I finished them. My further actions are to go to the Himalayas and conquer two mountain peaks. So, - he looked inquiringly into my eyes. - Take me on your expedition! In any capacity. I can do a lot, I’ve been in the mountains more than once.”I was silent.“It's almost on the way. Your expedition will end, I hope, successfully, and I will go further, already on my route. But how much time we will have for conversations while traveling! Through deserts, mountains, Chinese cities! Well? How? Why are you silent? Do you take me?
- I'll take it.
- Arseny! - the expansive German squeezed me in his arms. - I had no doubt! Thank! Let's drink to this!
We clinked glasses and drank some German schnapps. For me - the drink is disgusting."
Continuation: Gurdjieff's Mystical Journey to the Throne of Genghis Khan
The diary was carefully studied by a member of the Russian Geographical Society (RGO) of the city of Armavir Sergey Frolov
