John – Page 2 – { feuilleton }

Weekend links 843

Total solar eclipse over Zaragoza, Spain, 12th August, 2026. Photograph by Ruiyu Zhang.

• Kenneth Anger (again), in a transcript for another KPFA radio interview, in which we Anger have mentioning HP Lovecraft. Not a major revelation in itself but it’s not something I’ve seen before. On a related note, Anger wrote to August Derleth in 1947 asking permission to adapt The Dreams in the Witch House for one of his films. Another tantalising might-have-been from the Anger filmography, along with his unfinished film of Maldoror. (Thanks to Hagen for the info.)

• A recording of Jon Hassell’s final concert (London, 2015) will be released later this year as Music Is Invisible, which will become the third part of the Pentimento series. This may not be the last Hassell album, however. Other live recordings exist, and you could make a substantial compilation from all the one-off pieces Hassell recorded over the years.

• No City Fun: Manchester in 1979 (again) in a short film by Charles Salem with the music of Joy Division on the soundtrack.

• New music: Melting Days by Lusine; Yours Sincerely by Haruomi Hosono; Seedhead by Avi Engel.

• At Unquiet Things: Rebecca Chaperon‘s dreaming thresholds and painted portals.

• Mix of the week: Bleep Mix #322 by Tyondai Braxton.

• Finalists for the Ocean Photographer of the Year.

• Old music: Arles 75 Sechs by Can.

• RIP John Crowley.

• Eclipse (1968) by The Moving Sidewalks | Total Eclipse (1974) by Billy Cobham | Eclipse (1998) by Talvin Singh

The Greenwood Faun

Arthur Machen isn’t usually considered to be a Decadent author even though it was in the Mauve Decade of the 1890s that he first established himself as a writer. Machen knew Oscar Wilde well enough to recount an anecdote in later life, and two of Machen’s earliest books were published with covers designed by Aubrey Beardsley. But Machen outlived Wilde and Beardsley and all the other writers and artists who expired prematurely around the turn of the century, while Machen’s 20th-century stories are now so enmeshed with the evolution of weird fiction that the world of the weird has claimed him as one of its own.

The Greenwood Faun is a novel by Nina Antonia which plays with both these phases of Arthur Machen’s career. This is a ghost story to some degree, in which the shade of Decadent poet Lionel Johnson wanders the streets of London in various stages of corporeality, as well as a tale of the dysfunctional Hartington Leacock-Jones family whose entanglements with a mysterious book—The Greenwood Faun by Lucian Taylor—comprise the main substance of the novel. Machen aficionados will recognise Lucian Taylor as being the central character of Machen’s semi-autobiographical The Hill of Dreams, a detail which makes Antonia’s story a novel about a novel from a novel.

It’s never entirely clear how the world of The Greenwood Faun manages to have Arthur Machen in it as the author of a novel called The Hill of Dreams while also containing the central character from that novel whose death has occurred before the story begins. The important element is Lucian Taylor’s unpublished book, discovered in manuscript form then printed in a limited edition (books like these are always limited editions) with faun-embossed boards and pages that exude a sylvan fragrance. Jorge Luis Borges would have enjoyed the intertextuality—he enjoyed inventing books, and also enjoyed Arthur Machen’s writing—which is paralleled to a small degree by Alan Moore’s The Great When in which we find another book from a Machen story—A London Walk by the Reverend Thomas Hampole—manifesting in the real world. (This isn’t to suggest any influence; Antonia’s book was first published in 2017.) The Greenwood Faun extends a fateful influence over the Hartington Leacock-Jones family, either chiming sympathetically with those receptive to its magical charm or repulsing those whose characters are blind to its visionary qualities. Roger, the oldest of the trio of siblings, is a worldly materialist who remains immune to the spell of the book, whereas Conrad, his dreamy younger brother, is a poète maudit in embryo, equally responsive to the lure of the novel and to the romantic seductions of the ghostly Lionel Johnson. The thorn in this world is Giles Gorse, a literary critic soon to be married to Violet, the brothers’ sister. Gorse has his own designs on The Greenwood Faun, seeing the novel as something he can republish as his own, if only the book would behave more like a book and less like an object endowed with magical life.

Nina Antonia’s novel is a treat for Decadent enthusiasts, littered with references and borrowings from the Mauve Decade, and to writers like Saki and Ronald Firbank who carried its spirit into the 20th century. Saki is a good match for Machen even though one of Saki’s most memorable characters, the waspish Clovis Sangrail, would be appalled to find himself repurposed here as one of the lower orders. The mysticism that surfaces now and then in Saki’s stories reaches a Machenesque peak in The Music on the Hill, another of those Edwardian tales in which Pan is encountered in the English countryside. The story is quoted in epigraph at the opening of The Greenwood Faun, and it’s to this vision of a pagan deity that the novel pays homage, not the annihilating terror of Machen’s Great God Pan.

The Greenwood Faun is published by Snuggly Books which also has a paperback edition of N by Arthur Machen, the story that concerns that other fateful volume, The London Walk.

Previously on { feuilleton }
• A Czech Machen
• Ibrahim Ineke’s The White People
• The White People
• The Bowmen by Arthur Machen
• Rex Ingram’s The Magician
• The Great God Pan

“A Love Vision”: Kenneth Anger in 1967

Art by Rick Griffin with Gustave Doré. San Francisco Oracle, Vol. 1 No. 7, February 1967.

In his later years Kenneth Anger often seemed to spend more time giving interviews than making films, even though he was keeping busy when out of the public eye. Most of the discussions cover familiar ground, recycling anecdotes about the creation of the Magick Lantern Cycle, and the people who contributed to the films. More interesting—and harder to find—are interviews from the time when Anger was still at work on his magnum opus, which is why this radio interview from 1967 is a very welcome discovery:

John Cott, host of the Coconut Grove show on KPFA, and co-hosts Tom Luddy and Juris Svendsen interview Kenneth Anger about his latest film, Lucifer Rising. At the time of the interview, Anger had not yet begun shooting Lucifer Rising; he discusses his vision for the film as a sequel to Scorpio Rising, talks about the film’s magick symbolism. The hosts play a tape of Anger performing an invocation for the film. He is joined in the studio by Gary (?), who is introduced as the star of the film, and Joy (no last name given), who plays music in the background throughout the interview and performs a song from the film. They are also briefly joined by author and critic Susan Sontag, who discusses her love of Anger’s films.

KPFA is a listener-funded radio station serving the San Francisco Bay area which is still active today. The interview, which is really more of a round-table discussion, took place in July 1967, when the “Summer of Love” was in full swing. Susan Sontag’s presence surprised me, I’ve never seen her mention Anger’s films anywhere yet here she is, declaring him to be the greatest living American director. She’s only there for a third of the discussion but during this time Juris Svendsen tries to isolate what it is that makes her regard Anger’s films so highly. Later on the conversation turns to the youthful demographic referred to as “the Love Generation”, a cohort who the participants all discuss as something separate from themselves. Kenneth Anger was 40 in 1967 yet he talks sympathetically about the youth of the day, seeing the hippies as catching up with many of the impulses that drove avant-gardists like himself in the 1950s: the growing interest in occultism, the disregard for the demands of “straight” society, and all forms of psychotropic exploration. When the discussion turns to Lucifer Rising, Anger emphasises the subtitle that appears on the film’s promotional poster by Rick Griffin: “A Love Vision”. It’s tempting to read this as opportunism, especially when the subtitle was missing from the film that was eventually released in 1980, but Anger regarded the original Lucifer Rising as an answer to the “Death Vision” of Scorpio Rising. Here, as elsewhere, he emphasises the positive aspects of Lucifer, the Bringer of Light, while love was an important component of the Thelemic philosophy which Anger followed: “Love is the law, love under will.”

Art by Randy Salas.

Anger sounds relatively positive himself in the radio discussion but the rambling, unofficial biography by Bill Landis describes a not-so-love-filled atmosphere at the Russian Embassy in San Francisco where Bobby Beausoleil was supposed to be playing the part of Lucifer. I tend to be wary of the Landis account, he certainly did his research but isn’t always accurate, and some of the people he talked to (Anger wasn’t among them) would have been pushing their own agendas. A few months after the KPFA interview Anger and Beausoleil staged an occult ceremony/theatrical happening/musical concert at San Francisco’s Straight Theater. I used to think that the name of Beausoleil’s band, The Magickal Powerhouse of Oz, was a reference to Aleister Crowley’s Liber OZ (aka Liber LXXVII), a one-page distillation of the Law of Thelema which Anger happens to read out towards the end of the KPFA discussion. The band used the Crowlean spelling of Magick in their name but the Oz is merely a reference to the books by L. Frank Baum.

Berkeley Barb, Volume 5, Issue 12, Sept. 29–Oct. 5, 1967.

Fragments of the Equinox of the Gods performance may be the ones that appear in Invocation of My Demon Brother (Landis isn’t clear) but we do know that Anger’s 1969 film is made up of leftover footage from the original Lucifer Rising. The reporting here is confused by conflicting claims: Anger said that most of the original Lucifer footage was stolen from a car after the Straight Theater show; Beausoleil said that it was mainly equipment that was stolen since Anger hadn’t shot much film in the first place. Whatever the truth of the matter, the theft was reported as a news story in The Berkeley Barb at the end of September, something I was pleased to find while researching all of the above. I doubt that Anger would have gone to the press over a trivial loss but this is all rather academic now. Needless to say, whoever the thieves were they didn’t return Anger’s film which he why he spent the next decade remaking Lucifer Rising from scratch. Before he took off for London, however, he posted an ad in the Village Voice melodramatically announcing the end of his film-making career. I’ve always felt the thieves helped Anger rather than hindered him, even though he obviously wouldn’t have agreed at the time. The loss of the footage forced him to create a shorter film that wouldn’t otherwise have existed, one in which the “Death Vision” of Scorpio Rising is filtered through the hippy era to channel the growing negativity at the end of the decade: Vietnam, the Manson murders (in which Bobby Beausoleil was implicated), and Altamont (in which Mick Jagger was implicated), where the relatively harmless bikers of Scorpio Rising have been replaced by Hells Angels.

Previously on { feuilleton }
• Kenneth Anger: Film als magisches Ritual
• Kenneth Anger, 1927–2023
• Anger Magick Lantern Cycle, 1966
• Don’t Smoke That Cigarette by Kenneth Anger
• Kenneth Anger’s Maldoror
• Donald Cammell and Kenneth Anger, 1972
• My Surfing Lucifer by Kenneth Anger
• Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome: The Eldorado Edition
• Brush of Baphomet by Kenneth Anger
• Anger Sees Red
• Kenneth Anger’s Hollywood Babylon
• Lucifer Rising posters
• Missoni by Kenneth Anger
• Anger in London
• Arabesque for Kenneth Anger by Marie Menken
• Edmund Teske
• Kenneth Anger on DVD again
• Mouse Heaven by Kenneth Anger
• The Man We Want to Hang by Kenneth Anger
• Relighting the Magick Lantern
• Kenneth Anger on DVD…finally

Weekend links 842

An illustration by Charles Keeping for The Golden Shadow.

• At the BFI: Alex Ramon selects 10 great British TV shows of 1976. (And 50 years ago the American term “shows” was most often applied to the variety format. We would have called these “programmes”.)

• Illustrations by Charles Keeping for The Golden Shadow (1973), a retelling of Greek myths and legends by Leon Garfield and Edward Blishen.

• All The Devils are here: Ken Russell’s controversial masterpiece will return to cinemas in its restored, definitive form in October.

• The Strange World of…The Cramps. Related: The Cramps on The Tube 1986, full 20-minute performance unedited.

• New music: Olùsìn (Worshippers) by Ibukun Sunday; The Will of Tongues by Sarah Davachi.

• In a previously unavailable performance, Can play Halleluhwah on Beat-Club in 1971.

• The first Polish Culture UK Podcast is an introduction to Żuławski’s cinema.

• Mix of the week is DreamScenes – August 2026 at Ambientblog.

• Steven Heller’s font of the month is Zinkraft.

• The Geologic Atlas of the Moon.

• Xerox Hell

• Golden Hair (1970) by Syd Barrett | The Golden Vibe (Alternative Mix) (1977) by Steve Hillage | Golden Ball (1993) by Stereolab

BWS and REH

Since Barry Windsor-Smith was absent from the previous post (or there in spirit via the pages of The Studio) I thought I’d post a few of his prints from the mid-70s. As I said in the Snaps piece, Smith and co. set up The Studio in order to concentrate on art that was creator-owned and free of the constraints they were forced to work under in the comics field. This didn’t mean that they completely abandoned the subjects which had made them popular artists. Barry Smith’s work for his own Gorblimey Press oscillated between pastiches of the 19th-century artists he admired—mainly Alphonse Mucha and the Pre-Raphaelites—and characters from the stories of Robert E. Howard, Conan in particular.

Solomon Kane (1975).

Smith’s work with Roy Thomas on the first run of Marvel’s Conan comics had given him access to a large audience of comic readers. Not all of these would have wanted to buy (or been able to afford) the Gorblimey Press run of signed and numbered prints but it made sense for Smith to offer some continuation with the previous phase of his career. My animus towards the Marvel comics format means I have little affection for the Smith and Thomas Conan comics. But it’s interesting watching Smith’s work there evolve within the restrictions of the production-line system when you know he’ll end up presenting a very different version of Conan and Howard’s other characters in his prints.

Bran Mak Morn (1975).

Most of the pieces here are from the Gorblimey Robert E. Howard portfolio, a collection of five prints presenting portraits of characters from Howard’s stories. Smith included three of these—Solomon Kane, Bran Mak Morn and Thoth Amon—in his section of The Studio.

Thoth Amon (1975).

Continue reading “BWS and REH”