Oxford, A Cunning Man’s Book, Appropriated Art, Review Backlog, Magic Circle Thesis, and Other Topics of Interest

I made a quick trip to London and Oxford for the BSECS conference, and I had an enlightening and fun time. You know you’re in Oxford when you’re walking around town in the evening and see window after window open to reveal entire walls those floor-to-ceiling bookshelves – both in libraries and private residences. 

I saw some interesting manuscripts while on the road. One of them was Wellcome 3770, a work by John Parkins, the cunning man said to be Francis Barrett’s pupil. Some of the material within seems to come from Barrett’s scrying procedure published in The Flying Sorcerer, long after his death, so this seems likely. Most of the manuscript is in a personal shorthand, to which Parkins provides the key, and at least some of it is magical, as Parkins apparently didn’t think to come up with shorthand for “Tetragrammaton,” for some reason. It might be an interesting project for someone.

I picked up Shani Oates’ The Real World Art of Cunning Craft from Hell Fire Club Books. It seems to include, both on the cover and as chapter breaks, art from Mihai Vartejaru’s blog post on the Seals of Alcabitius. I can say this with some degree of confidence, as one of the labels for the seals exactly replicates the typos on the same label on Mihai’s blog. Mihai was unaware of this, and I haven’t heard anything from Hell Fire.

Al Cummins called to my attention M. J. de Bejier’s thesis on the elements of magical circles. It does not include the original illustrations, likely due to rights issues. It only covers five manuscripts, so I think of it less as a definitive study and more of a set of hypotheses that should be applied to other works containing magic circles.

Speaking of items I look forward to reading, I’ve accumulated quite the backlog of books to review. I’ll slowly work my way forward, although my present book and associated research takes precedence.

Published in: on January 18, 2020 at 8:25 am  Leave a Comment  

Update: Tea Drunk, Grimoires Received, Writing Progress [?], Georgian Occult Book Collection Catalogues, Arthurian and Slavic Gaming, and Holiday Commercialism

I’m hiding out at Crazy Wisdom Bookstore in Ann Arbor, which has a great selection of books and a lovely tea room.

  • I’ve received an electronic copy of Jose Leitao’s Opuscula Cypriani, which will receive a quick semi-review soon. I just reviewed a 650-page book here, so I think making a thorough reading of a 900-page book would undo me. I’ll still report in on it.
  • Also arrived are the Black Letter Press edition of The Black Pullet, and the Golden Hoard edition of the Ars Notoria. I intend to get to both of them soon.
  • I’ve temporarily stopped correcting the text in Douce 116, in order to work on this presentation at the BSECS in January. I might base the whole piece on the title page of the book, which is surprisingly rich in content describing how Thomas Harrington, a late 18th century author, tried to legitimize a late 17th-century magical miscellany.
  • As for Harrington, I’ve paid for Harvard to digitize the catalog of the 1806 posthumous sale of his library of works on music, magic, ad witchcraft, among others. They’ve put it online, so you can see it as well.
  • I’m running Pendragon for a small group, including at least one Papers reader. Having reviewed my strengths as a game master, I think this is a very good system to my proclivity for enabling characters’ poor life choices. In Dungeons and Dragons, this generally leads to strife among characters and players; in Pendragon, it’s fun storytelling.
  • My Dungeons and Dragons game (Rules Cyclopedia) is coming to a close, with characters having ascended from first level to levels 8 and 9. We still have a couple of modules to tackle before we’re done.
  • I’m also working on and off on a pseudo-Slavic hexcrawl hack of 1981 Moldvay Basic/Expert D&D, with lots of which I’m not sure what to do with.
  • Here’s the obligatory link to a page of my books for sale. Also, the excellent Cambridge History of Magic and Witchcraft in the West: From Antiquity to the Present is now available in paperback for $41.
Published in: on December 21, 2019 at 8:52 pm  Comments (5)  

Midnight in the Desert Tonight

Join me tonight LIVE on Midnight in the Desert with Dave Schrader, 9pm – 12am Pacific Time (12am – 3am EST)!

I’ll be talking about Of Angels, Demons, and Spirits, and probably anything else that comes up.

You can call in from the US at 520-600-MITD, and listen at this link.

 

Published in: on December 17, 2019 at 11:35 am  Leave a Comment  

Reconstructed Review: Svartkonstbocker by Thomas Johnson

[Many thanks to reader Viv D. for sending me a saved version of this post.]

It’s been amazing seeing the fluorescence of publishing of historic works of magic Svartkonstbockerrecently. When I reviewed Dr. Thomas K. Johnson’s tremendous dissertation “Tidebast och Vandelrot” back in 2012, I thought it might be an interesting PDF file for some interested scholars and practitioners to seek out. It never occurred to me that someone would ever want to publish a revised edition of the work in its entirety, especially after Dr. Johnson’s untimely passing. Nonetheless, that’s exactly what Revelore Press has given us in their release of Svartkonstböcker: A Compendium of the Swedish Black Art Book Tradition .

It’s unusual to go back and review a book that I’ve already reviewed, but the purpose of the first review was more to call people’s attention to an important work. I’m going to go more in-depth on this review, although I’ll acknowledge there’s only so much I can do without turning this review into a major project. Let’s dive in and see how it goes.

For those who aren’t familiar with the work, this is a compilation of thirty-five texts dating from the seventeenth to the twentieth centuries. Originally created by “wise ones,” or Swedish cunning folk, these works contain nearly two thousand recipes, charms, incantations, and other items, some mundane, many magical. Most of these, whether as originals or transcriptions thereof, are still available in the possession of various libraries and archives in Sweden, and Johnson did his best to translate as many of these as possible.

Before we even arrive at the “Svartkönstbocker” themselves, Johnson gives us about two hundred pages – the length of many academic books – on the context for the “black art” books, the tradition of “wise ones” in Sweden, the social milieu in which their authors and copyists created these works, and how the depiction of these books in folklore – often as demonic works written in blood – reflects the physical reality of the surviving works. This is fascinating and insightful, and quotations are often provided in both the original Swedish and English.

At one point, Johnson provides a detailed system for detailing the different aspects of each individual piece of lore, including both its constituent parts (verbal charm, ingested substance, written charm, etc.) and its purpose. He later uses these to break down the contents of each book to discuss what the author’s criteria for choosing to preserve these rites might have been.

The system does have its uses, but the classifications for purpose feel as if they were maintained past the point when they should have been revised. The first category, for example, covers everything from healing ailments, household tips, protection from venomous creatures, extinguishing wildfires, and protection from spirits. Yet spells dealing with firearms are split into two categories, “healing” them and for success at the hunt. A bit more attention could have made this more useful in terms of analysis.

The introductory section rounds out with a summary of the contents of each text, noting its physical appearance, how the rituals within break down into the categories noted above, and the history of authorship, transmission, and scholarship that surrounds each one. The section concludes with several insights, such as how the folk tales and occasional trial records relating to a book’s purported or actual author often does not correspond with the contents of their particular works. Likewise, the distinctions between “white” and “black” practitioners seems insufficient, as we find beneficial and harmful rituals combined in the same works in almost every case.

Now we arrive at the meat of the work, the texts themselves. I use the word “texts” here, because not all of these are books in and of themselves. For instance, among these are a pact with the devil and a table of contents from what appears to be a nineteenth-century German magical compilation. It might have made more sense to move such material to the appendices, as notable but not exactly being the same character as the rest of the book.

Each work appears numbered after each other, with little introductory material. I wish the decision to break each text out from its contextual information had been rethought during the transition of this book from a dissertation. If a reader wants to find out the context for a particular work, or compare Johnson’s classificatory breakdown of particular charms, they often have to return hundreds of pages back to the introduction to learn more. This is exacerbated by the index – but I’ll get there.

The charms themselves are a fascinating selection, with nearly two thousand individual items being provided, with all manner of ritual practices and physical elements included. The only area that has little coverage is ritual spirit-summoning, but even this has some examples, largely via German materials incorporated into local practice. In a collection such as this, duplications are certain, but there’s so much material this should concern readers little. Swedish texts are not available, but that would have made the publication of the book in a single volume impossible.

There are some innovations which I think Dr. Johnson’s untimely passing made impossible for this book. For example, I would have liked to see more robust notes at certain points. An editorial discussion with the translator in a few places might have resulted in a more comprehensible text – although, to be fair, this is conjecture on my part. The book itself doesn’t include the Swedish text, although this may be too much of an ask for a book that’s already this size.

Those interested in this book might also be aware of Fredrik Eytzinger’s Salomonic Magical Arts  (review here), which raises the question of how they stack up. Eytzinger’s work only publishes two treatises in the early twentieth century, and Johnson only publishes one of the two. Thus, a person buying both will be getting original material. (The question of which material has been published is somewhat confused, as the book published in Eytzinger’s is noted as the “Red Book,” while the same volume published in Johnson is labeled “The Black Book” in a note not present in the original dissertation.)

The book is rounded out with a bibliography and an index, the latter of which I’m sad to say I found somewhat lacking. Those seeking to track down particular ritual substances will find it helpful, but it seems to have an Anglocentric emphasis. For example, John Dee and Nicholas Culpeper have entries, but the authors of the Black Books themselves are often missing. Some concepts, such as the “year walk” or årsgång, appear in the text but aren’t referenced elsewhere.

Despite my caveats, I think this is an impressive compilation of a magical tradition that has been previously ignored by English speakers. Some buyers may consider the price high, but in the area of folk belief and magical practice, there are few better buys for one’s money. If you don’t have the dissertation – or even if you do – this is definitely worth a purchase.

Published in: on December 5, 2019 at 11:34 am  Leave a Comment  

December Update: Disappearing Book Reviews, An Appearing Book Review, Questionable Occult Nazis, and an Upcoming Appearance

  • I’m not sure what happened to my review of Svartkonstbocker – I finished it and published it, but now it’s vanished, to be replaced with an incomplete draft. Most frustrating. I’ll see what I can do about getting that up to date and out the door.
  • I also received a review copy of Robert Podgurski’s The Sacred Alignments and Sigils: Angelic Magick, Renaissance Thought, and Modern Methods of Sigillization. This is basically an extended work on the Grid Sigil, which Podgurski saw after a magical rite in 1981 and that he presents as a way of super-charging meditation and ritual workings, drawing the underlying philosophy to the works of Agrippa, Dee, and Spare, as well as yantra and mantra techniques. I have to admit, I didn’t finish it – some books are for some people and not others, and I’m not one of the people this book is intended for. Still, if the above sounded interesting, you might check it out.
  • I’ll be presenting at the British Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies conference in Oxford in January on Douce 116. I think most of the talk will end up in the introduction of the book eventually – it’ll be challenging to cover a topic this complex in the time allotted, but I’ll do my best.
  • I’m reading up on Olivia Serres, a.k.a. Princess Olive, the artist who owned the manuscript during the nineteenth century. I think I’ll be doing the authorial equivalent of punting on the matter of her royal title.
  • Eva Kingsepp published a review of Eric Kurlander’s Hitler’s Monsters (my review here) in the September issue of the journal Aries. She delves more into the footnotes than I did, and she makes some interesting claims about the book, one of which I shall reproduce here:

I have double-checked a selection of references where I found his claims false and/or suspect, absurd, or even ridiculous. The number of books and other texts gradually expanded to 39, where I decided to stop…

She also notes that one of Kurlander’s cited works is The Nazi Occult, a fictionalized sourcebook by blog-friend Kenneth Hite. I enjoy Ken’s work, but I think its descriptions of the secret meetings between the Nazis and the Yetis – with impressive illustrations – might have been a tip-off about its reliability.

Thus, if you’re interested in using Kurlander’s book as a source, you might want to read Kingsepp’s review.

Published in: on December 4, 2019 at 6:36 pm  Comments (2)  

Three out of Four Ain’t Bad: The Book of Four Wizards Update

Still working on that review – but I have a small project update.

I went to NYC for a few days to engage in some intensive research and book work while apartment-sitting for a friend. I managed to finish up the double-check of the text, and I’ve started modernizing the writing. Last time, this took a month – I think it’ll take longer this time, given that the writing is more challenging and I’m working with more images.

I also got to do some research at the reading room of the NYPL. Special thanks to the kind people at the Pforzheimer Collection, who let in a stranger who arrived unannounced to view an Olivia Serres letter. I’m fairly confident now that she’s the fourth hand in the manuscript – and her contributions, once we set aside the early nineteenth-century poetry, do establish her as yet another individual interested in the practice of magic and alchemy.

In the meantime, I might have found another author. The manuscript features a few different divinatory items using numerology based on adding up values of the name of the querent. In one such place, an abbreviated name appears – and the best match for the numerological values seems to be “Thomas Harrington.” I initially thought this might be the work of the original 17th century author, but closer examination of the handwriting makes it more likely this is the late 18th century annotator.

I wasn’t hopeful about finding too much about Mr. Harrington, given how common his name was – until I ran a search in WorldCat. (This is generally a good practice for backgrounding anyone.) There I found a listing for A catalogue of the very rare and curious library of Dr. Thos. Harrington, decd. : comprising old songs, ballads, history, magic, witchcraft …, to be sold at auction by Thomas King Jr. at Covent Garden on May 20, 1806. Other publications of music from the late 18th century indicate that Harrington might have been local to Bury St. Edmunds.

Thanks to the help of Bobby Derie and Dave Goudsward, I’ve now seen a newspaper advertisement of the sale, which lists that the person is a “well-known collector” of, among other things, “magic, witchcraft, [and] astrology,” and who owned “curious manuscripts” on many topics. It’s not 100%, but I feel pretty good about pursuing this particular lead.

As to the 17th century original author – who knows?

Published in: on November 5, 2019 at 3:17 pm  Leave a Comment  

Jesus Talking with Cows, Fairies, and Fake Princesses: A General Update

  • I’m still working my way through Svartkonstbocker, my next book for review according to Twitter. Manuscript 9 has a number of interesting narratives in it about corpse-belts for shapechanging, along with a number of charms in which Jesus has conversations with cows about their issues.
  • Avalonia has put its book Faerie Queens, in which I have a chapter, on sale with free shipping for the month. Check it out!
  • Jesse and Pam did a great job with this year’s Occult Humanities Conference, and I’d like to thank Clifford Low for inviting me to the event and the after-parties. I’d suggest checking it out when it’s held again in two years.
  • I made a day trip to Kutztown to talk to Patrick Donmoyer at the Pennsylvania German Cultural Heritage Center and do a bit of research. I might get a presentation out of it. If you’re in the area, check their opening hours and let them know you’re coming.
  • The Book of Three Wizards continues to attract my attention. Apparently one section of it was written by Olivia Serres, the artist an royal pretender who wrote for Raphael. I’m wondering if this material isn’t a separate hand from the rest of the book – so does that mean I’ve got four wizards?
Published in: on October 19, 2019 at 4:26 pm  Leave a Comment  

Not Living Up to His Bizarre and Crummy Principles: Update on Lamentations of the Flame Princess

While I’m reading this 650-page book for my next review, I might as well discuss the latest RPG controversy that surrounds one of my favorite games, Lamentations of the Flame Princess.

So, you might remember (read here) that I had decided some time ago, in light of James Raggi’s poor handling of its decision not to work with Zak S., to purchase no further products from Lamentations until they took steps to protect their employees in the future with a policy on dealing with sexual harassment.

The situation has developed in ways I hadn’t anticipated. After some silence from Lamentations, they released Zak Had Nothing To Do With This Book, a short adventure followed by an essay, at GenCon. Zak later took out the essay out and marketed the PDF on DriveThru. He changed the title, then DriveThru pulled it, then Raggi made the book private… It’s quite the saga. (No links for buying any of this.)

In the kerfuffle, I managed to get a used copy of the original print publication, temporarily suspending my “no-Lamentations” rule to get a better sense of the situation based on a piece that wasn’t seeing much circulation. Since then, Brent Jans has posted a good analysis quoting some of the key items from it – including Raggi’s assertions that he himself has been repeatedly accused of violence by women – so you don’t need to seek it out. I did want to concentrate on a few aspects of the piece that I think are crucial.

Here’s one statement of his that stood out for me:

Nevermind that it is a publisher’s job, one of their most important duties, to protect their talent and their work from attack, even if it is offensive to their personal sensibilities

This is certainly an odd statement. I’d certainly hope that the publishers I work with would defend the accessibility of my books, provided I adhered to the requirements of the contracts to ensure the integrity of the work, but I wouldn’t expect them to go beyond that, especially when it comes to wrongdoing – and especially when that wrongdoing impacts their work environment.

Further, Raggi leaves it unclear as to what happens when some of your creatives are running into problems created by another, which is very much a part of this situation.

Later, we come to Raggi’s defense of his principles. I want to quote some segments of what follows, because it’s an amazing act of mental gymnastics:

None of this is an attempt to persuade you to change your mind about Zak or convince you to ignore things you don’t want to ignore. Nobody is telling you to socialize with the man, online or off, or buy things from people you’d rather not buy from…

Oh who am I kidding? Yes, I am. Get over your damn selves[…]

Your opinion about Zak, and how your view of him affects your view of his work, is only personal. You have no right to enforce that personal opinion on other people, or to judge them if they have another opinion. You have no right to wipe the work of another human being, past, present, or future. You have no right to deny someone else their choice to engage with that work.

As a librarian, I care very much about censorship. As an author, I can say that it is an issue that has had some effect on my own writing. I also think that conflating censorship with not buying someone’s work, or telling others not to do so, or making judgments about other people, is intellectually dishonest and trivializes the very principles James claims to defend for his own purposes.

As the RPG community tries to adjust to a series of scandals, I’ve seen some bizarre statements, such as “you don’t have to buy the product, but it’s wrong to tell others to boycott it” or “deleting your PDFs is the same as censorship.” Yet in this day and age, the vast array of information resources available to us mean that you can publish their work easily and make it widely available. Sure, not being allowed to participate in a platform such as Amazon or Drivethru may certainly affect whether you can make money off it. People are thereafter free to buy or not buy your work, save it, delete it, or review it. They can even tell others to buy it, or not to buy it, or not to buy the works of people associated with it, because they disagree with your behavior or your politics.

Does that last piece seem wrong to you? It certainly can – but in a hobby in which people proclaim they don’t buy a book because “it has playable anthropomorphic ducks” or “I don’t like ascending/descending Armor Class”, it’s hard to fault them for not doing so over concerns about how that person treats other people, or how their politics may impact others.

Let’s get back to the present situation. How did Raggi’s principles play out?

I had just a few months before taken on my first actual employees, one full-time, and the same week the allegations went public I’d been approved for the last of a series of large loans intended to be used to expand the company. I was responsible for other peoples’ lives and I was leveraged to hell and back. I was in no position to make my own decisions, let alone put up any sort of fight over it. So, I had to announce that I would no longer work with Zak.

Despite all the finger-pointing and blame, the person who is most responsible for Raggi’s decision not to work with Zak is… Raggi. And his actions thereafter are baffling. There’s no moral calculus I can’t think of that leads to the statement, “I fired someone unfairly and violated my principles, but publishing a GenCon exclusive scenario will definitely make up for it.”

To be clear, I don’t think that Raggi not living up to his bizarre and crummy principles in this case is a problem. Perhaps it would be better for him to adopt a principle that employees and freelancers being treated appropriately is a key value, as it allows them to to their best work, and that dealing with concerns about such treatment in a fair and equitable way is important for a good working environment. At any rate, it’s too late now.

Based on what Raggi has written, I feel it’s time to change my stance on whether I’ll buy the game. Even the best sexual harassment policy would be pointless after a company CEO published a fictionalized defense of Zak and discussed his own supposed history with claims of false sexual harassment while dodging responsibility for any of this. So I’ll be looking for other talented creators to support.

Published in: on October 11, 2019 at 11:48 am  Comments (7)  

The Book of Three Wizards: A Brief Prospectus

One of my readers asked me if I could give him a summary of what my next project from Llewellyn will be. I quickly searched Papers in hope of giving him something that would quickly fulfill him, only to realize that I hadn’t actually written too much about the book here anyway. It’s time to correct that.

My latest project is a transcription of the Bodleian Library’s manuscript Douce 116, one of the more unusual ones I’ve encountered. Whereas you can find many of these manuscripts have been previously microfilmed or digitized, Douce 116 somehow made it with very little attention. One likely reason is that Francis Douce, the nineteenth-century librarian and antiquary who collected it, had only this work of magic in his collection, although he did collect other books on witchcraft and the like.

The main body of the book is a magical miscellany of the late seventeenth century, at the time when magic and astrology reached the heights of their popularity just before falling into disfavor in the following century. Likely written by a cunning person in Worcestershire (I’ll get into that in the introduction), it shows the influences of the magical publications of the mid-seventeenth century, including Agrippa, the Arbatel, and a likely reprint of the Discoverie of Witchcraft, while also displaying a keen interest in the lore still circulating in manuscripts.

A century later, the book fell into the hands of another occultist who did quite an amount of writing of his own in the book – paginating it (although he couldn’t keep that straight), annotating the other author’s sources (sometimes incorrectly), and filling the front, back, and blank spaces with all manner of mystical formulae and bits of wisdom.

After that, the book apparently passed into the hands of Robert Cross Smith, the first “Raphael,” who possessed it in 1825. He bound in a few pages of his own, including a reference to the president of the mysterious society of the Mercurii. Finally, the manuscript passes to Francis Douce, who upon his death in 1834 leaves it to the Bodleian.

I’m working on a second correction of the text right now, and James Clark will be handling the illustrations again. This will likely be a few years down the road before you catch a glimpse of it. While you wait for it, you might read a couple of my recent articles (available here and here) for which it served as an excellent source.

Please put your questions in the comments, and I’ll do my best to answer them.

Published in: on October 2, 2019 at 12:16 pm  Leave a Comment  

Review: The Red Dragon / Dragon Rouge

The winner of my recent Twitter poll for what review I should conduct next was the Black Letter Press edition of the Dragon Rouge, or Red Dragon, the successful outcome of the publisher’s recent IndieGogo campaign. According to the publisher’s website, the volume is sold out, although they’re taking pre-orders for an English translation of The Black Pullet, so this may simply be of interest for second-hand buyers.

If you want some background on this book, along with a comparison of other English editions, including the Grand Grimoire from Trident and the Red Dragon from Teitan, I’d suggest looking here.

Before I begin a review, I like to divulge any conflict of interest that I might have when it comes to a book. This is particularly difficult here, as the editor and translator, Paul Summers Young, was the former moderator of a Facebook group that I left due to what I viewed as his inappropriate language to other members, with the same being directed at me after I left. I personally don’t feel that it will affect the review, but you should aware of it as a possible influence.

Further, as I’ve admitted in the past, my French is nowhere near as good as it could be, but having an original text on hand is important when reviewing such a work. This is complicated due to the existence of several Dragon Rouge texts of various sorts in French. In the end, I looked quickly over the French Dragon Rouge text from Joe Peterson’s CD-ROM, which I recommend to anyone who hasn’t purchased it yet, and the Trident and Teitan Press editions.

(I also turned up this 1846 manuscript digitized from Porrentruy’s Bibliothèque Cantonale Jurassienne, N.C.1. It’s released under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial license, so have fun.)

First, let’s take a quick look at the cover:

Red Dragon

The brief introduction covers the history of the work and plays up the book’s status as a “work of outsider art”. If you want to learn what version of the book this is based upon:

This English translation aims to capture the tone and substance of the 2019 Black Letter Press Italian edition with close reference to the 1823-ish French edition, which is commonly spoken of as the earliest extant under the name ‘Red Dragon…’

I’m not sure how exactly to read this, but it sounds as if the primary source was the Italian translation rather than the French original, with the latter being checked as Young went. We’ll get back to this later.

The centerpieces of the Red Dragon, as with other editions, are two sets of procedures intended to bring the magician into a pact with a spirit – with the preferred one in both cases being Lucifuge Rofocale, one of the chief servants of Lucifer. The first one is more involved, including the creation of a magnetized “blasting rod” and a kid-skin circle, while the second does not require these accoutrements but provides fewer protections for the would-be magician.

The IndieGogo campaign page notes that much research was done to ensure that the Italian edition from which this was taken was “new and more complete,” Comparing this one to Peterson and the Teitan text, however, shows that the Black Letter edition is missing some of the short operations – such as the creation of the Hand of Glory in the French version, or the meeting with the three spirits at evening in the Italian. The work might have come from a text to which I don’t have access, or the editor may have taken elements from both texts and combined them. I’d be interested to know the answer.

We might be able to answer these questions if the book provided either the French or Italian texts, but neither are present. The text also lacks most of the rest of the other apparatuses some seek in these texts, such as bibliographies, notes, and translations for the Latin passages. I don’t think this will bother most readers, however.

As all three English translations are currently unavailable, that places them at about the same level of accessibility for potential buyers. Personally, I think that the Black Letter edition has the most impressive presentation, but I’d prefer the Teitan Press edition for its content, despite my concerns that the editor might actually be Simon. I think there’s certainly room for a publisher to come out with a beautiful critical edition of this text.

Published in: on September 26, 2019 at 2:18 pm  Leave a Comment