I really wanted to like this book. I like the idea of the author of an occult work being an expert practitioner – Maja D’Aoust is known, apparently, as The Witch of the Dawn. This book is also peppered with her own often-Picasso-esque artworks, which while perhaps not appealing to all tastes, are certainly skilled and intriguing, helping to draw the reader into the subject at a deeper level. They’re a good idea and work more often than not.
🔻
But I had my problems. For a start, the title and subtitle are technically about two admittedly closely allied but actually different categories of entity. The witch’s familiar, according to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, is ‘a small animal or imp kept as a witch’s attendant, given to her by the devil… a low-ranking demon that assumed any animal shape, such as a toad… or black cat.’ That’s the standard explanation, hallowed by the ages. Supernatural guardians are different, usually with more power, more altruistic agendas - and considerably less of a whiff of sulphur about them. But the author has, it transpires, chosen to redefine both ‘familiars’ and ‘supernatural guardians’. One might say, with an airy wave of the hand, that it doesn’t matter much when discussing such an insubstantial topic anyway, but sadly an aura of confusion surrounds this book from the outset.
But I had my problems. For a start, the title and subtitle are technically about two admittedly closely allied but actually different categories of entity. The witch’s familiar, according to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, is ‘a small animal or imp kept as a witch’s attendant, given to her by the devil… a low-ranking demon that assumed any animal shape, such as a toad… or black cat.’ That’s the standard explanation, hallowed by the ages. Supernatural guardians are different, usually with more power, more altruistic agendas - and considerably less of a whiff of sulphur about them. But the author has, it transpires, chosen to redefine both ‘familiars’ and ‘supernatural guardians’. One might say, with an airy wave of the hand, that it doesn’t matter much when discussing such an insubstantial topic anyway, but sadly an aura of confusion surrounds this book from the outset.
Immediately one’s soul mate – often in the shape of a beloved animal – is described as a ‘familiar’, though then we’re told the familiar is a kind of ‘devotional servant’, which somewhat demeans the soul mate. (As if it’s a revelation, we’re told, ‘the concept of humans having servants… is an old one’, though that might be a result of slightly wobbly sentence construction.)
The relationship between the witch and the familiar is likened to the practice of good animal husbandry. We’re told that losing control of your familiar is like losing control of your dog. But hang on, sometimes the familiar is a soul mate. Isn’t being so controlling of a soul mate edging into actual abuse?
There is an alarming subtext to much of this book. It blithely describes, for example, the familiar – this time in the shape of one’s ancestral spirits – as often demanding offerings such as blood. This is potentially rather dark and dodgy territory.
(And while some might acknowledge a new and challenging way of seeing Christianity, others might reel back from lines such as: ‘Jesus stated that by offering his own blood no other blood would be needed to feed the spirits as he was offering the Holy Spirit as a familiar spirit to all through him – a blood sacrifice to end all blood sacrifices…’ But to confirm which side she’s on, the author adds quickly, ‘… according to the story, anyway.’ Not quite. Those weren’t his actual words and the original context was – unsurprisingly - quite different. Also, perhaps this is the place to point out that, despite what this author implies later in the book, Origen did not write the New Testament via channelling or any other way!)
When discussing the relationship between a living person and a spirit – a familiar or discarnate entity, perhaps - there is only lip-service paid to the very real danger of such practices or even a belief in them. Personally, I found it horrifying that the author seems to approve such encounters – often trysts with what used to be called ‘demon lovers’ - almost without question, while admitting that underlying this is usually an obsession or fixation. In other words, you start from an unhealthy position. And she admits that such encounters can sometimes be violent. Translate this sort of relationship into the real, #metoo world, and there would be little tolerance for it, let alone a casual acceptance.
While extreme emotion might indeed help rituals work, perhaps there should be some kind of health warning attached. Certainly, to rely on a demon lover to fulfil one’s emotional and sexual needs is courting appalling mental trauma, if not complete breakdown. At the very least, there is a strong case for arguing that the author should have included techniques for psychic self-defence.
(And arguably the greatest proponent of defending oneself against paranormal nasties is the late Dion Fortune – the pseudonym of Violet Firth – whose fierce intellect and background in psychology, besides vast experience of many occult manifestations, helped to make her very, very wary of such encounters. But of Ms Fortune there is no mention in this book.)
With the author’s wide-ranging definition of familiars, we are taken on a somewhat breathless world tour of sometimes only arguably relevant topics, such as historical prophecy, telepathy and deities, including the Delphi Oracle and the Egyptian Gods. There’s some fascinating stuff about the animal-headed deities originating in the priests’ shamanic visions, which is almost certainly the case.
But then there are the glaring infelicities, such as the mention of Islamic pilgrims regularly being trampled to death when ritually circling the Kaaba stone. The author says, ‘Although officially it is held that the worship is focused on Allah rather than the stone in the Kaaba, the fact that people are willing to give up their lives to the stone is an indication of how much value it holds for them in their beliefs.’ Excuse me? Willingly give up their lives? Getting trampled to death was not on their bucket list. Whenever it happens, it’s a horrible, tragic accident – not a religious ambition.
Then again, we’re told that pagans modelled their stone idols on the idea of creating statues from meteorites. But didn’t they already create them from stone anyway? Or wood, for that matter? Meteorites created very special religious foci, but they didn’t kick off the whole idea of spiritual sculpture.
Though studded with some interesting stories and insights, sadly there are simply far too many annoying slips, slapdash logic and some startling omissions. At random…
Was Reagan’s astrologer really in the same league as the Dalai Lama as a spiritual advisor? Do all Catholic altars really contain holy relics? Is it not pushing it rather far to label Jesus Christ as a familiar spirit – or, for that matter, the Egyptian goddess Isis? And traditional Guardian Spirits are not familiars – try getting a fire-breathing, treasure-guarding dragon to do your bidding as you might your pet tabby …
In discussing the Virgin Birth, there’s always a major point to bear in mind: as a literal story, essentially there is no point. It was pure invention, not even featuring in the first canonical gospel, Mark (nor, incidentally, did the resurrection). And when discussing the elderly Saint Elizabeth’s miraculous pregnancy, surely it would only be polite to mention who she was pregnant with – actually John the Baptist. Plus, perhaps the author missed a trick in not explaining that the Holy Spirit was originally female?
The ancient Egyptians didn’t have angels. What Christians took to be their ‘angels’ were really lesser gods. Surely, it’s a tad ironic that a witch would happily promote the Christian interpretation.
A doppelganger or double is not a familiar spirit.
And it would be very helpful to get some historical context for the various people named – even the dates of the likes of Aleister Crowley or Anna Kingsford would have helped.
Also, there are some truly startling omissions in a book on this topic, particularly one with such a potentially wide scope. Apart from the work of Dion Fortune mentioned earlier, where are the servitors of ritual magicians? (As in ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.’) Or the thoughtforms, called tulpas, of Tibet? Or the egregores created by a group’s consciousness? And when, all too briefly, touching on the far-reaching subject of invisible spies, where is the whole vexed subject of travelling clairvoyance, now called remote viewing?
And while being happy to throw Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings into the mix, the author never so much as mentions Philip Pullman’s novels, which are, of course, centred on the concept of familiars. Plus, where, oh where is any reference to the absolute classic, Daimonic Reality: A Field Guide to the Other World (2003) by Patrick Harpur?
Clearly, the author is passionate about these subjects and has much personal experience of the otherworldly. Perhaps we could have done with more of that. I suspect – and I’m guessing here - that had she had more time at her disposal, the book would have been considerably better. There’s evidence of haste on every page, and all authors know how damaging that can be. (While I’m truly sympathetic if that was the case, sadly a reviewer has to focus on the end product - not the ideal that might have been.)
Ms D’Aoust is clearly an accomplished writer and artist, and a knowledgeable witch. Try as I might, however, I could only nod when I came across the line: ‘What if, dear reader, we are confused?’
- Lynn Picknett
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