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[May 2, 1969] The Lusty Month of May: Beltane and Feraferia

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[And now a word from our California religion correspondent.  As Paganism becomes ever more popular, at least in the Golden State, and as nature resists and provides refuge in an increasingly mechanized (science fiction made fact) world, it's a good time to see what our druids have been up to this holiday season…]


by Erica Frank

In the Pagan world, the year is marked by 8 holidays, called sabbats: the druidic solstices and equinoxes, and the four traditional Celtic holidays on the cross-quarter days: the first of February, May, August, and November.

May 1st is Beltane, marking the beginning of summer, halfway between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. Beltane marks the shift from virgin-maiden goddess to bride-to-be of the Green Man, the Horned God of the woods and fields.

An image from the movie "Camelot" showing several maids and young men adorned with flowers, lounging around outside and having a picnic in the grass.
It's May: When all the world is brimming with fun…Wholesome or "un." (From Camelot, 1967.)

It is celebrated with bonfires on May Eve, also called Walpurgisnacht, with processions and feasting and drinking to mark the hope of abundance in the coming summer and joy in life and community. Often, the High Priestess will read the Charge of the Goddess, which includes:

…as a sign that ye be really free, ye shall be naked in your rites; and ye shall dance, sing, feast, make music and love, all in Her praise. For Hers is the ecstasy of the spirit, and Hers also is joy on earth; for Her law is love unto all beings. Keep pure your highest ideal; strive ever towards it; let naught stop you or turn you aside.

After the night celebrations, the next day, people gather around the May-pole adorned with ribbons and weave through each other in a dance that covers the pole with bright strips of fabric and flowers, symbolizing…

Well. We'll leave that as "it's symbolic of, um, the season," because this is a family publication. Suffice to say Beltane celebrations have plenty of dancing and merriment and fertility rituals. Some of those are very informal–as the Charge of the Goddess also says, "all acts of love and pleasure are Her rituals." And of course, there are plenty of Pagans who are always ready for a ritual.

Black-and-white line art drawing: Stylized text of the Kore Incantation and picture of the May goddess
Kore Incantation: O Holy Maiden of the kindling quick of merging myst and amazing echo: The innocent bounty of the trees bares your faerie flesh of wildness wonder magic mirth and love… your beauty seals our bridal with all life. The dance of your green pulse unfolds all bodies from Earth's fragrant form. EVOE KORE — F.C.A. 1968 Ostara–Beltane, from Korythalia Vol 1 no 2

Feraferia—a modern Pagan church
Feraferia is one of the first, perhaps the actual first, Pagan groups to incorporate as a legal church. They received their nonprofit status a couple of years ago, in 1967, and are growing strong. Their home is in the San Gabriel mountains in California; they host celebrations and welcome gentle visitors to share in their spirituality.

Their name is taken from the words "feral" and feria, Latin for "festival" – loosely, "wild celebration," or perhaps "untamed jubilee"; they seek to re-create the Eleusinian Mysteries by connecting with the primal erotic energies of nature.

They draw on both anthropological research and spiritual insight to build their practices and philosophies, combining history and mysticism into art and religion. Feraferia is "a faery faith"—drawing on the lore and legends of the Fay as symbols of how to live in harmony with nature, rather than attempting to control or dominate it.

Their Beltane holiday is the day the Lord Sun and Lady Moon become engaged, to be wed at the summer solstice in June. They mark it as the beginning of the divine courtship, and welcome the visible signs of lust and sensuality in nature: The unfolding of flowers awaiting pollination and the randy play of wild bucks are signs that humans, too, should be setting aside their winter solitude and seeking companionship and mates.

Picture of the maiden goddess Kore, with golden hair and wheat in the background behind her.

Kore (pronounced kor-ee), the Greek "Merrie Maiden" goddess of innocence and joy — Art by Fred Adams, one of the founders of Feraferia.

Aside from their 9 holy days (they have a "Repose" in mid-November in addition to the 8 traditional sabbats), they encourage daily meditations and prayers, and use both active and quiet communions to connect with the spirit of the Goddess and the sacred land.

They build henges in their land, rings of stone or sculpture, "fairy rings" that are aligned with the compass and the turn of the seasons, and tying the practitioner to the land with small gifts and offerings.

Daily Worship Practices
Fred Adams has published a "Daily Ceremonial Enactments" script for meditation and worship, involving the Kore Incantation and calls to the Fay in the four directions and the four elements: Sylphs of the air, Salamanders of fire; Gnomes of the earth; Undines of water.

It begins with: PART I: Facing the altar, perform the sign of the Phytala by outlining a large Phytala with your hands in the air in front of you. Hum as you gesture, and muse on the various meanings.

Line drawing of the Phytala, a symbol combining a tree, wreath of flowers, and leaves; it looks a bit like a person standing with arms outstretched over their head. Also, a short musical score of the Kore chant: Evoe Kore, Evoe Kouros, Awiya
The Phytala, "the symbol of Feraferia. It embodies the tree of life, the Moon and Sun, a wreath of flowers, and specifically the young, budding branches of a fruit tree."

There are also weekly rituals, beginning on Saturday (well, Friday night). Each day invokes a different deity and is appropriate for different kinds of work or meditations. Friday, dedicated to Kronos-Zeus, is "the Day for constructing and Blessing Faerie charms of Wilderness."

Consider what it would feel like, to begin every Friday with this incantation:

Kronos-Zeus! I (we) dedicate this day to thee and to thine own land-sky-love-body of taiga, cone forests, all conifers, high cliffs and palisades, talus, rugged pioneer nature communities, all seres (ecological successions), weather formations. (Muse on these nature realms or archetypal landscapes.)

Blessed be thy faerie realms. They will grow in wildness and love even as they suffuse my (our) presence with joy and wilderness wisdom. Grant all wildlings in these realms thrive, find fulfillment and continual rebirth.

I (we) bestow my (our) genius and love upon these realms and all their wildlings.

May the wildrealms of Kronos-Zeus, bright emperor of night, bestow upon me (us) their genius for: Duration and endurance, ruggedness, wisdom, strength, self reliance, forcefulness, steadiness, continuity patience, elegance, dignity, magnitude, prophecy, order, appropriateness, accumulation, opportunity, will, attainment of goals.

Evoe Kore! Evoe Kouros! Awiiiyaaa!

I'll certainly be looking at the rest of their practices. I don't know if I have the time to set aside for lengthy daily meditations—and I live in a city apartment; I don't have access to a yard with trees and a stone circle—but I could make a small shrine in my room, and try to connect to the natural world a bit more than I do.




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Book, Fashion, music, politics, sports

[April 12, 1966] The Degenerate Modern Era

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by Erica Frank

Interesting Times

It's been a tumultuous half a year since my last article. In that time, the world of music and activism has grown tremendously. Joan Baez has released a new album with several anti-war songs and has relentlessly protested against the Vietnam war. Ken Kesey has begun his "Acid Test" concert-parties in San Francisco, and the headline band is often the Grateful Dead, formerly known as the Warlocks. Timothy Leary was arrested for pot smuggling – maybe he should've stuck to the more legal LSD. Poll taxes are now illegal, and formerly-obscene racy novel Fanny Hill is now protected by the first amendment and can be freely published. In the midst of all these political and social changes, Time Magazine is asking, "Is God Dead?" raising cries of "blasphemy" from conservative preachers across the nation.

Time Cover: Is God Dead?

Time Magazine, April 8 1966, asking the hard questions.

It is at that last point where I wish to begin, because I feel entirely qualified to answer that question: No, God is not dead; God is a female and Her name is Eris, Goddess of Discord.

The Best of All One True Religions

I can say this confidently because I have come into possession of the new scripture for our age, the Principia Discordia, or, How the West Was Lost, "beeing the Officiale Handebooke of the Difcordian Societye and A Beginning Introdyctun to The Erisian Misterees."

Yes, as is common with many of the younger folk involved in today's spiritual movements, I have apparently fallen prey to a religious cult, this one centered around the divine principles of Disorder and Chaos.

Sacred Chao of Eris

The Sacred Chao, drawing on the Taoist "yin and yang" symbolism–a circle divided into the Hodge and Podge, with a Pentagon on the Hodge side and the Golden Apple of Discord on the Podge side.

Principia was written by "Malaclypse (the Younger), Omniscient Polyfather of Virginity-in-gold" and "Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst, Bull Goose of Limbo and Protector of Switzerland" in 1963; they distributed copies made on Jim Garrison's Xerox printer. Garrison is a New Orleans lawyer with a penchant for going after corrupt judges: a laudable goal, but likely a frustrating career choice. I can understand why his office assistants might pray to spirits of Chaos.

The Principia describes what we know of Eris (not much, but that she was worshipped by the ancient Greeks as goddess of strife and discord, and the Romans thereby named her Discordia) and her part in the Myth of the Apple of Discord – a retelling of the Greek myth of the start of the Trojan war. Much of the fable is lost in my copy of the book, alas. Perhaps later editions will contain the complete text.

The Discordian Society purports to provide false but comforting answers to questions like, "why do today's leaders ignore the principles of science and instead embroil us all in totalitarianism and war?" It promotes "unworkable principles of discord" with the intent of providing a workshop for the insane, and thus keeping them out of the mischief they can create as "Presidents, Ambassadors, Priests, Ministers and other Dictators."

I love this book. Five golden apples. Please, seek out a copy at a bookstore near you, or demand to have one provided instead of a bible when you check into a hotel.

The Psychedelic Revolution

No religious movement would be complete without its music, and the music of the Age of Chaos is, in a word, "trippy." As in, it is often accompanied by acid trips, the experience of being under the influence of LSD. Kesey and his Merry Pranksters are at the heart of the psychedelic movement, and the Grateful Dead – formerly the Warlocks – are playing its tunes.

Can You Pass the Acid Test? Poster

Can YOU pass the Acid Test? Poster for one of Ken Kesey's events. Possibly used as an actual test: if the spiral starts spinning, it's working!

In January, they played at the Filmore in San Francisco. From that set, "Death Don't Have No Mercy" is memorable – somber and poignant. In February, they were at the Ivar Theater and played "I Know You Rider," a traditional folk ballad that's one of their staples. Their version as The Warlocks was heavier on drums, more "rock" and less "folk blues."  Their bluesy-rock music with long instrumental sections is the perfect background for Kesey's entirely legal, if a little unorthodox, LSD experiments.

But the Grateful Dead aren't the only ones directing the swirling energies of modern life into something more profound. Joan Baez's newest album, "Farewell, Angelina," includes both the anti-war title song, written by Bob Dylan, and "Sagt Mir Wo Die Blumen Sind" – Pete Seeger's German translation of "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?"

She is in West Germany right now, involved in the Easter peace demonstrations. She and her fellow marchers are trying to get governments around the world to realize that we cannot solve problems caused by poverty, fear, and violence by creating more of all three.

Wherein the Law Is Less of an Ass Than Usual

While we among the lunatic fringe are often at odds with our governments (especially when those governments are dedicating incredible amounts of our tax dollars toward killing people whom we don't want dead), occasionally we get a bright moment, a win for tolerance and a step toward true democracy. This past month, we have had both.

On March 24th, the U.S. Supreme Court found that Virginia's state poll tax was unconstitutional. Harper vs Viriginia State Board of Elections brought some of the protections of the 1964 federal Civil Rights Act to state laws. Justice Douglas delivered the ruling, including:

[T]he interest of the State, when it comes to voting, is limited to the power to fix qualifications. Wealth, like race, creed, or color, is not germane to one's ability to participate intelligently in the electoral process.

The court noted that the state may decide who is qualified to vote, based on reasonable criteria. States may disagree about the age of adulthood, or which crimes are so terrible that committing one removes a person's right to vote. But states do not have the right to declare soldiers non-residents, nor to apportion representatives differently for urban and rural areas. And now, it is established that "Voter qualifications have no relation to wealth nor to paying or not paying this or any other tax."

Poll Tax Receipt from 1966

Poll tax receipt from Alabama, showing a fee of $3–the price of a pair of sneakers–to vote for the year. Anyone who misplaced their receipt would not be permitted to vote.

No more shutting people out of voting because they're poor… or because their wallet was recently stolen… or because of a fire in their home… or because the receipt got damaged… or because the election official decided it was illegible… or whatever other excuse a district had decided on, as a way to keep anyone who wasn't white and wealthy away from the polls.

More Books to Read

Tom Lehrer fans rejoice! On March 21st, we scored a victory for smut: Cleland's Fanny Hill, also known as Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, originally published in 1749, is now legal to distribute throughout the US. Memoirs vs Massachusetts overturned the ban in Massachussets which followed the ban (and removal thereof) in New York.

The court ruled that the book has obvious literary and historical value, proving that it cannot be held obscene by the Roth test, and that since it is not linked to any illegal activities, there is no justifiable reason to censor it. The no-longer-obscene racy novel is now available to be printed by any publisher that cares to do the typesetting… and is willing to accept the hit to their reputation.

Fanny Hill paperback front and back covers

Includes the New York State Supreme Court decision – possibly even Desmond's dissent, which points out that "it describes to the last intimate physical detail numerous instances not only of prostitution but of voyeurism, transvestism, homosexuality, lesbianism, flogging, seduction of a boy, etc., etc."

Speaking of "reputation for publishing the wrong books"… Ace has been soundly castigated for their unauthorized editions of Lord of the Rings. The backlash against Ace was strong enough that they have offered repayment to Tolkien (which he has accepted), and have agreed to stop publishing and not reprint the book. Ballantine is now publishing fully authorized versions that pay royalties, and they are selling as fast as stores can get them.

However, it's likely that, without Ace's bold (and arguably unethical) plan, we would never have seen these books in paperback. Tolkien had initially refused to publish them in "so degenerate a form," and it is likely US publishers declined to republish in hardcover, as they didn't believe a big enough market existed. The hardcover books were a whopping $5.95 each; the Ace paperbacks were 75 cents. Ballantine's paperbacks, which factor royalties into their price, are 95 cents.

The hardcovers sold an estimated 15,000 copies… the paperbacks have sold almost eight times that many in a handful of months. So let's give a cheer for degenerate publishing and hope for a long and happy future of access to forbidden books!




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Comics

[August 9, 1964] Heroic Considerations (Fall 1964 Alter Ego, July 1964 Batmania)

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by Erica Frank

This month brings us two amazing fanzines: Alter Ego 7 discusses several superheroes and villains of the past, and a new fanzine, Batmania, has just begun. We also have a few notes about advances in metaphysical news.

Alter Ego 7

Alter Ego's had a rocky time; I covered issue 3 almost 3 years ago, which is a long stretch for what's supposedly a quarterly zine. The editor's note at the beginning notes that management has recently changed hands; Ron Foss is handing the reins to Roy Thomas, who believes he's more able to keep up with a quarterly schedule.

Cover for Alter Ego 7 fanzine
Cover for Alter Ego 7, Fall '64

And That Was the End of Solomon Grundy? by Richard Kyle

Solomon Grundy is an undead villain named after a children's rhyme. His initial appearance and defeat by the Green Lantern was 20 years ago, in the October 1944 issue of All-American Comics, and he appeared a few more times in the 40s. He is appearing in the new Showcase #55, facing off against Doctor Fate and Hour-man. The article shows that Grundy is not just a mindless nearly-unkillable thug, and I look forward to seeing him battle other heroes in the future.

Alter & Captain Ego, written and illustrated by Biljo White

Captain Ego, a spaceman from planet Zircon, crash-lands on Earth. Alter Albright rescues him with the help of the Captain's alien technology. The teen can enhance Ego's abilities with a "telepathicontrol" helmet that uses a Z-Beam to tap into the boy's brain and connect to a particle that Ego also has… at this point my eyes glazed over. I understand that spacemen and rocket ships are supposed to be "science" but at some point, you might as well call it a "magic crown." The villain is a cliché of a man who looks exactly like Ming the Merciless from the classic Flash Gordon serials.

Side-by-side pictures of Ming the Merciless and Tigris
I don't know whether I'm impressed by his artistic skills or disappointed by his lack of imagination.

White's art is excellent; he could be drawing for any of the professional comics. However, his storytelling skills are mediocre. The plot is a semi-coherent mix of hackneyed storylines, and neither Ego nor Alter seems to have a personality beyond "be noble; fight evil." The core ideas are interesting (if you can swallow the "science") but the execution is weak.

A Hot Idea by Rick Strong, with art by White

This is a history of the Human Torch before the Fantastic Four: He began as a "synthetic man" in Marvel Comics #1, 1939. Originally, he could not control his flame powers; he had to be kept in an airtight glass cage for the safety of those around him. Once he learned some control, he dedicated himself to a life of heroism. I had not known the details of his pre-Fantastic Four history; he's been through some big changes!

One Man's Family: The Saga of the Mighty Marvels, by Roy Thomas, with art by White

This article is almost a quarter of the zine, obviously the spotlight feature. It covers the origin story of Billy Batson who becomes Captain Marvel when he calls out "Shazam!" and the origins of his friend Freddie Freeman (Captain Marvel Jr.) and his long-lost twin sister Mary Batson (Mary Marvel).

Fawcett Comics had found a successful superhero-generating origin in "someone says Shazam while wishing for super powers," so they kept using it. Three alternate versions of Billy Batson became the Squadron of Justice, or the "Lieutenants Marvel." Hoppy the Marvel Bunny was planned for the Funny Animals comic line. Uncle Marvel didn't actually have superpowers, but he believed he did, and the others humored him. Black Adam, the first of the wizard Shazam's protégés, was a hero who turned evil.

The Marvel family appeared in their own series and several other comics in the 40s. They had a few recurring villains, including the Sivana family of mad scientists and King Kull, a beastman who wanted to destroy all humans. The Marvels were also patriotic, fighting Nazis and later appearing in the Korean War. As Fawcett published more horror stories, the Marvels appeared there as well. Eventually, the stories and villains grew too hokey for even the tongue-in-cheek style of the "Big Red Cheese"—the nickname fans adopted from one of Dr. Sivana's insults—and readership dropped off.

Panel from Captain Marvel #17, in which Dr Sivana calls Captan Marvel a "big red cheese cake."
Was this a common insult in the 40s?

Sadly, Captain Marvel and his family have been out of print for over ten years. National Comics accused them of copyright infringement, claiming that Captain Marvel was too similar to Superman. The lawyers argued for years, and in 1953, Fawcett ceased publishing. The Marvels may never appear again. Children of the future may never know the joy of shouting "Shazam!" in the hope that a lightning bolt will grant them magical powers.

The Gilded Age of Comics, by Shel Silverfish

Three-page humorous illustrated history of the comics industry, complete with political cartoon. Charming and informative.

Cartoon of Barry Goldwater in a superhero outfit, with a woman telling him that they're not taking new superheroes until after November 4th.
It's an eagle! It's a rocket! It's… Super Goldwater!

The Tragic Monster, written and illustrated by E. Nelson Bridwell

This article draws on religious history and mythology to discuss various monsters who were the "superheroes" of their eras. It mentions Enkidu from the Epic of Gilgamesh, Pan, Hephaestus, and Polyphemus from Greek mythology, and Frankenstein's monster and Quasimodo. It mentions The Thing from the Fantastic Four but no other current comic-book superheroes. Still, it's a nice look into the concept that a hero doesn't need to be handsome, healthy, and friendly to do good.

Readers Write, by Otto (Eando) Binder, plus other letters

Normally, the Journey doesn't review or even mention letters columns, but this one includes a four-page letter from Otto Binder, the creator of the Marvel Family characters and author of many of their stories. He insists none of his characters or stories were "lifted" from Superman, and that quite the reverse occurred: several elements of CM stories appeared in later Superman comics. He's not making any accusations, just pointing out that, in an industry with very similar types of characters and stories, sometimes they'll accidentally match.

Photo of Otto Binder

Batmania 1

This new fanzine, devoted entirely to the interests of Batman fans, is edited (and mostly written) by Biljo White, the main artist for Alter Ego. It is almost certainly not timed to release alongside Andy Warhol's new Batman/Dracula last month. (I only managed to watch part of it, but that was enough to realize that if there was a plot, I couldn't find it. This film is too avant garde for me. The music was nice, though.)

Batmania 1 cover
Batmania 1, July '64

Editor's Notes

Batmania began because Biljo, a firefighter, drew some superheroes for the paperboy visiting the station, and the young boy didn't know who Batman was. He identified more well-known characters like Superman, the Lone Ranger, Tarzan, and Dick Tracy, but not the long out-of-print Captain Marvel, and not Biljo's favorite, Batman. Batmania, with its name used by permission of National Comics, is the result of that encounter.

The New Look, Biljo White and the Batmanians

The artists and the art style in Detective Comics have recently changed. The new artists are Carmine Infantino on pencils and Joe Giaella on ink, with John Broome as the author. Bob Kane and Bill Finger are not entirely gone, but are no longer doing the main stories. The Batmania article gives several fans' opinions of the new art, mostly arguing for or against Kane's pencil work compared to Infantino's. They mostly agree that the stories have improved.

Scene from Detective Comics 327
How many escapes does a penthouse apartment normally have?

Profiles on Collectors: John Wright

This South African author of The Komix fanzine is long-time comic collector who loves Daredevil, Captain America, and The Black Hood. His story "The Black Panther" won Alter Ego's "Alley Award" for best fanzine fiction last year. He recently published his first mystery novel, Suddenly You're Dead, under the pseudonym Wade Wright. I like the spotlight-on-fans feature; it helps make a scattered community feel more connected.

Comic Oddities

Discrepancies and did-you-know details about comics: Alfred Pennyworth used to be portly; Whiz Comics never had a Vol. 1 No. 1. Some details are just random facts, but some are useful. Knowing that Robin makes an appearance in Lois Lane #6 can help a Batmanian track down all the issues about their favorite characters.

Pro Spot: Model T to T-Bird, by Russ Manning

This article is about a comic artist's career, which would be easier to follow if it MENTIONED HIS NAME. It's hard to read a long article that keeps referring to its topic indirectly. ("For those fans who haven't already guessed… a very dissolute-looking character is inscribing this artist's name on a tombstone in panel 1, page 9, of Johnny Mack Brown #3 (Jan-Mar 1951).") I had to track that down: the artist is Jesse Marsh. The comics are all westerns, a genre that does not interest me. It does discuss in great detail the changes in his art style and assignments.

The New-New Look, by Bill Ryan

A brief consideration of other art styles that mightv'e been chosen for the new Batman comics.

Three pictures of Batman in very different art styles
"He's best at crime fightin' 'cause he eats his vit'mins…"

Who Are the Batmanians?

The Batmanians are a fan club of people who want "a greater, more popular Batman." Joining is as simple as sending a letter explaining why you're interested; Batmania zines are free for Batman fans who pay for postage. It's 10 cents for a folded issue or 20 cents in a large envelope.

Metaphysical Miscellany

Superheroes aren't the only people interested in strange mental abilities and saving the planet from evil. However, the psychiatric and spiritual fields are working with smaller, less flashy evils: they fight imbalances of the mind and heart.

Psychedelic Review: Vol 1, No. 3, 1964

Unsurprisingly, Dr. Timothy Leary's journal about the effects of psychoactive drugs also hasn't kept to a strict quarterly schedule. It's keeping up with the calendar better than Alter Ego, but we can assume that Dr. Leary has better funding than the average comic-book fan. I reviewed the first issue, Summer of 1963, last October. The newest issue is a tribute to Aldous Huxley, who died last year on the same day as President Kennedy and C. S. Lewis. Huxley was a philosopher and prolific author who created the disturbing Brave New World.

Nature Retreat Therapy

The Esalen Institute in Big Sur, a foundation for expanded consciousness, has welcomed Fritz Perls, a noted German psychologist. Perls will be teaching his "gestalt therapy" methodology. People will be attending the Institute for its innovative approaches to the mental sciences and not just the famous hot springs.

Esalen Lodge in Big Sur
Esalen Institute

The Scholarly Druids

A short followup note about the Druids of Carleton College: the college has removed the chapel attendance requirement, but the Reformed Druids of North America continue to hold services. Two young men have recently been ordained into the Third Order; this allows them to lead services and initiate new members.

Druids meet on a hillside
A lovely way to hold religious services.

It seems that "weird news" is happening more often and in more places. There's a growing movement to explore not just outer space and the hidden areas of our world, but also our own connections to the world and to each other. Heinlein may have tapped into that in Stranger in a Strange Land; the realms of science and spirit are not as separate as we used to think. I love the evolving fusion of mental and physical sciences.

…I'll still be reading Batman and fanzines about him, though.

[Come celebrate with us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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Book

[March 5, 1964] Brushwinged, I Soar (Hannah Green's I Never Promised You a Rose Garden)

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by Erica Frank

Deborah Blau lives in two worlds. One is the world of post-World War II America, where she faces anti-Semitism at school, and her family is fraught with guilt from relying on her grandfather's wealth instead of her father's limited wages. The other is the Kingdom of Yr: a world with vast open plains and the endless chasm of The Pit. Yr's residents include Anterrabae, the Falling God; Lactamaeon, second in command; and Idat the Dissembler, who is neither male nor female. "You are not of them," the Yri gods tell her, and they teach her to soar the skies in her eagle-self, and she sings with them in the secret language of the hidden realm. The Censor stands guard to prevent the words from mingling when she shifts between the Rising Calendar of Yr and the Heavy Calendar of Earth.

But I Never Promised You a Rose Garden is not a science fiction novel, and Deborah is neither a time-traveler nor a sorceress. She is a sixteen-year-old girl, and Yr is the delusional world of her mental illness.

Cover of I Never Promised You a Rose Garden

Yr is a compelling world; Yri is an intriguing language. We only see them in glimpses as Deborah struggles to explain her truths to Doctor Fried, whom she names Furii, Fire-Touch, in her secret language. Yr is Deborah's protection and way of explaining to herself the traumas of her life: the tumor removed when she was five, the racist girls at her summer camp, the endless tensions between her parents and grandfather. She is surrounded by lies, and Yr is the place where nobody lies to her.

Nobody in Yr tells her, "This will not hurt at all, and when you wake up, you will be all better." Nobody tells her, "None of these girls called you a stinking Jew." Nobody says, "You are smart and special and that means you will be successful in life." In Yr, the customary greeting is "suffer, victim," and the calendar rises in good times and falls in bad times, and Deborah flies as a bird or gallops as a horse, unfettered and free. The incantation that calls forth her freedom is beautiful:

“e, quio quio quaru ar Yr aedat
temoluqu' braown elepr kyryr…”
(Brushwinged, I soar above the canyons of your sleep singing…)

Of course she wants to stay there. Yr has been her solace and sanctuary since she was six years old; it will be very, very hard for her to acknowledge it might not be a real place. If she loses it, she believes life will be nothing but falsehoods and distortions and incomprehensible tasks assigned by others.

But Yr is turning dark. The Collect, the swarm of voices who shout instructions and insults at her, are growing louder, and she spends less time celebrating its beauty and more in regions of fear and pain. The gods who were delightful companions at first, distracting her from real-world tensions and abuses, now bring her messages of bitterness and horror. Even so, Deborah retreats into Yr more and more, losing entire days from memory and not knowing what she did or said in that time.

Deborah is committed to a mental institution, and it begins as a great relief to her. For the first time in years, nobody is pretending she is normal, that there is nothing wrong with her. Of course, what Deborah thinks is wrong with her, and what the doctors think is wrong with her, don't match–but fixing that can come later. First, she has to trust that they can recognize that she has real problems.

Deborah's doctor is much in demand; she wouldn't take the case if she didn't believe Deborah could get better. Dr. Fried is acclaimed, even famous, and she needs that cachet of status when convincing the parents to leave her there, especially after Deborah is committed to the "Disturbed" ward, with bars on the windows and ratty-haired women wearing pajamas all day. Her parents are dismayed at the idea of their "sensitive" little girl being in such a place, and they worry about the community finding out about her illness. The doctor needs to persuade them, and keep persuading them, that Deborah needs this.

And she does. She has to get worse before she can get better. She has to let go of the constraints of blending in, of being polite, of pretending that social interactions mean the same things to her that they do to others.

Deborah's journey is a hard battle, and a big part of it is how she relates to the other inmates. At first, they are all mysteries to her, just another set of talking obstacles she navigates around while she tries to sort out truth from fantasy. Slowly, she comes to realize that each of them has her own traumas, her own methods of coping, and to recognize the potential of future health in some of them–a terrifying thought for people who find hope a burden as much as a source of strength.

She learns the secret codes they use to sneak forbidden items past the nurses. She makes a friend, when she was never able to do so at school. She seeks out those who can teach her Latin and Greek, in fragments and amidst the fights that explode any time something changes in the ward. (Just hearing about someone who used to be here, but is now working in the real world, is enough strain to disrupt the place for days.) She learns that the staff thinks of her as cold and vicious, and that her intellect is weapon as much as tool. And she learns compassion, the baffling wonder of having the power to help someone else, when she had been convinced that her very essence was nothing but poison.

While the story is set in the late 40s and early 50s, it's timeless. The town and the institute are never named, nor do they need to be. While today's mental institutions won't have a regular influx of conscientious objectors serving as orderlies to avoid prison, there are always some staff who obviously don't want to be there. The patients recognize the ones who fear and hate them, and treat them differently. Some of the security practices seem almost barbaric, but Deborah shrugs them off; her trials are internal, and physical comforts are irrelevant to her.

Rose Garden is intense and fascinating. It gives a glimpse into both mental illness and how the stigma surrounding it can make it worse: Deborah's troubles are harder for having to pretend she is "normal." The world of Yr would make a delightful setting for a novel in its own right, and it is hard, as a science fiction fan, to favor the termination of such a place–but that is what Deborah needs, so that is what the reader comes to want as well.

5 stars; it doesn't get better than this.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[September 7, 1963] Druids at College: An Old Religion for a New Era

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[Our archivist, a self-described "kook," has a strong interest in consciousness expansion and a belief that our world's new technologies need to be integrated with new mental and spiritual techniques. In this, she is not alone. New Age religions have been popping up all over the place as the post-WW2 generation of young adults tries to make sense of our regimented world. She returns to writing to cover one of the latest spiritual organizations. Note, this article is for informational purposes only, and should not be considered an endorsement…unless it's your kind of kookery, of course!]


by Erica Frank

Like many private colleges, Carleton College in Minnesota requires that students regularly attend religious services. They don't specify which religion, expecting that Protestants, Catholics, Jews, and Muslims will each worship in their own way, but they expect the worship to conform to conventional flavors. Earlier this year, in May, a group of students at Carleton found a creative way around this directive: the students recently announced that they are now druids, and that they have been holding worship services at a stone altar outdoors rather than in any of the churches near campus.

Not much is known about the historical druids of Britain, who were suppressed by the Romans until the older religion was either destroyed or went so far into hiding that it faded into folklore. What we know of them mostly comes from Latin and Gaelic writers almost two thousand years ago, reporting that druids served as holy men, doctors, judges, and educators. (They were also reported to be sorcerers, shape-changers, and weather-witches; sorting fact from rumor is difficult.) They were priests of a pre-Christian religion that venerated nature; while they did not build Stonehenge, they are believed to be the spiritual heirs of those who did.  

Taking inspiration from the ancient druids, some students are calling themselves the "Reformed Druids of North America." They have rejected religious orthodoxy in favor of nature-focused spirituality. They insist that their religious ceremonies involve wearing long robes and making sacrifices (of vegetables) to the Earth-Mother… and drinking whiskey, which is derived from grain and is therefore one of the holy gifts of nature.

They outlined the two tenets of their religion:

1. North American Reformed Druids believe that one of the many ways in which the object of man's search for religious truth can be found is through Nature, the Earth-Mother.

2. North American Reformed Druids believe that Nature, being one of the primary concerns in man's life and struggle, and being one of the Objects of Creation, is important to man’s spiritual quests.

Canny readers may notice that these two statements can be rephrased as:

1. Religion is in nature.

2. Nature is religious.

While that's a bit simplistic, it would be hard to argue that there is no truth in the two statements, nor that countless religions have not included similar concepts.

Their services draw from several religious traditions, and membership in their church is available to anyone who asks and partakes of the "Waters of Life" – a phrase which they may have borrowed from Heinlein's recent Hugo winner, Stranger in a Strange Land, although similar concepts exist in many religions. The concept of "water-brotherhood" has appeared among some students; these students aren't claiming to follow Heinlein's fictional religion, but may have been inspired by parts of it.

Their mention of the Earth-Mother may have been inspired by the recent explorations of Catal Huyuk, a prehistoric settlement in Turkey. The site was discovered in 1961, and is still being excavated. James Mellaart's discovery of the Seated Woman sculpture, showing a regal image flanked by lionesses, is widely understood to indicate a paleolithic matriarchal culture worshiping a mother-goddess.

These discoveries match what Gerald Gardner outlined in his 1954 book, Witchcraft Today: that the Stone Age religion worshipped the Great Mother, and that this "Old Religion" is being revived in the modern era. While Gardner's focus is on the "witchcraft religion" in England, several groups inspired by ancient religions have begun to make an appearance in the US, including the Carleton College druids.

Some suspect that the druid group is a prank, nothing more than a way to get out of attending stuffy church services. Instead of listening to a preacher talk about sin, they have a picnic on the lawn, with some robes and chanting to the Earth-Mother to make it qualify as a religious service. If it is just a way to dodge the rules, it is an effective test of the administration's tolerance and adherence to its own policies; since the requirement to attend services doesn't specify religion, there is no way to ban these "services" without declaring that this is not, in fact, a religion.

Their new Arch-Druid said, "Our services of worship are public, and have been held regularly for the past month and a half and we feel that they in every way fulfill not only the letter but the spirit of the religious requirement." The students have been holding public services attended by dozens of people, and their chants and prayers seem to be as spiritual as those of any mainstream faith.

It will be interesting to see what these druids do in the future. The services have started up again this school year, and if the attendees have found some real spiritual value in their "druid religion," it may have some real staying power.

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Book

[June 10, 1963] Foma: Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics (Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.'s Cat's Cradle)

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by Victoria Lucas

When a friend lent Kurt Vonnegut Jr.'s newest novel, Cat's Cradle to me, I thought, “Oh, I know this book!" because I saw, as I flipped through it, the "ice-nine" and "Bokonon" I'd heard people buzzing so much about.  So I was glad to read it and understand the phenomenon.

But that's where my joy ended.  Vonnegut is a fine writer.  His style is idiosyncratic, askew; this is a novel novel.  But no one would accuse him of being optimistic or hopeful about the human future.  No Pollyanna he.

So in this account of the immediate future of our species, not only is there "The Bomb" to worry about, but there is a complex web of events that involves a new Doomsday Machine (ice-nine) and a new prophet (Bokonon), as if we didn't have enough of both of those.

The narrator, John, was recently divorced by his second wife because, as an optimist, she found it impossible to live with him, an ostensible pessimist.  He has writer's block ("loafing") on a book about the day the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima (title: The Day the World Ended), and slowly he is drawn into the events of the story by actions he has taken to get to know members of the Hoenikker family, children of the "father" of the bomb.

It is hard to say what Vonnegut means by pessimism, because nearly every time something happens in the book, good or bad John seems surprised.  I thought pessimism meant expecting the worst in all situations.  On the other hand, he is surprised when one of the few good things in the book happens: the music Hoenikker's daughter plays is not just good but exquisite.  Just when he thinks he has the world figured out as a terrible place, there it is–beauty!  "I shrieked at Julian Castle, who was transfixed, too, 'My God–life!  Who can understand even one little minute of it?'" Obviously not John. 

And this turns out to be part of his religion, the belief system written by a black man named Boyd Johnson but called Bokonon in the dialect (of what language?) used on an island called San Lorenzo — an island on which events will shortly cause the whole world to end.  The author quotes The Fourteenth Book of Bokonon, with the title "What Can a Thoughtful Man Hope for Mankind on Earth, Given the Experience of the Past Million Years?"  The Fourteenth Book answers in one word: "Nothing."

In case I haven't already made it clear, this is a work of apocalyptic fiction.  In explaining how the doomsday tangle of vectors one might call a "cat's cradle" occurred and how attempts to untangle it failed, John uses a new vocabulary invented by Bokonon that has a certain ring to it.

For instance, Boku-maru is an act of intimacy and worship performed by two people placing the soles of their feet together.  The members of John's (or any) group who are fated to act together in something important are a "karass."  I particularly like "granfalloon," the word for an imaginary connection that (unlike the linkage of a karass) has no real significance (alumni of a school, for instance, or people from a particular state). 

"Foma" are "harmless untruths" to be distinguished from the "damned lies" of politicians and corporations which Mark Twain (or Benjamin Disraeli) placed in his famous phrase in my title.  As for the statistics, John mentions his two wives, 250,000 cigarettes, and 3,000 "quarts of booze" preceding the events of the book. 

About "foma," Vonnegut's epigraph reads, "Nothing in this book is true.  'Live by the foma that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy.'  The Books of Bokonon.  I: 5" Of course the existence of the "Books of Bokonon" is also fictional, but several of the quotations from it, when not black humor or bordering on it, seem almost optimistic.  This one, for instance, asserts that a person can believe in lies that make one happy.

This book of foma didn't make me particularly happy, but, dripping with irony, it was entertaining, and it has probably stirred up the college students all over the US as it has on my campus, so I'll give it a 4 out of 5.  I recommend it to anyone with a sense of humor who doesn't mind feeling slightly depressed about prospects for human peace and a long and healthy human future.

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