As the venerable Brother Moloch, a sorcerer near and dear to my heart, once pointed out, the Gallery of Magick books (and those, like Hargrove’s, that are GoM-adjacent, being extremely similar in format and approach) are not “grimoires” in the primary sense of the term. Rather, they are spell books.
Though they often
profess a magical grammaire, they do not provide a variable syntax for
it, which is to say, for a creative range of magical expressions as in the Greater
and Lesser Keys of Solomon or the first part of the Grimorium Verum. Instead, the GoM approach gives simplified
rigid methods, focused on one or two groups of spirits or magical aesthetics,
usually incorporating sigils or mandalas of Hebrew letters from the tradition of
Jacobus Swart. The difference is
comparable to learning the rules of a language versus memorizing various blocks
of text in that language verbatim.
Unfortunately the
term, “spell book,” is now heavily associated with 1980s mass-market
Wicca. I’m loathe to climb on the
Wicca-bashing bandwagon. Before that,
the trend in occult book-talk was ceremonial (i.e. Golden Dawn) bashing
and, before that, it was New Thought-The Secret-Law of Attraction
bashing, etc. It never ends because
occultists will never stop feeling insecure.
It’s all very high school, in my opinion.
So for the time being, I’ll use grimoire
when I talk about Celestial Angel Magick. And I’ll call this a “grimoire note” instead
of a book review, since I’m only saying one or two things about it (and those
from a subjective, working perspective, avoiding much analysis of the text
itself).
I’m writing this
mostly because I’ve been using the book and because I think the GoM (-ish) grimoires
work (as verbatim blocks of text in a magical language). At least, they work for me, which is
the most truthful and transparent thing any magician can say about occult
things. Of course, these books aren’t
really “occult.” They’re mass-marketed
just like the self-initiatory eclectic Wiccan material from 30 years ago. But the difference is that the GoM books can
be overtly useful right away. They can produce
results (if you know how to use them properly) without you having to undergo very
much self change.
In the present case,
Hargrove gives a “pathworking” approach similar to that found in Jareth Tempest’s
Raziel’s Paths of Power, Theodore Rose’s Lucifer and the Hidden
Demons, and Gordon Winterfield’s Demons of Magick. I think Damon Brand has this in a few of his
books and there are several other
GoM-adjacent and demonolatry imitators as well.
None of these texts are bad or worthless.
And most of them more or less pass the practical magic “laugh test.”
Pathworking (really the old “transvocation” under a misapplied, perhaps less intimidating name—we’re not actually working the paths on the Tree of Life) isn’t a bad way to go about conducting spirit contact. Many serious mental mediums, witches, spiritual mentalists, and non-charlatan psychics also use it. One could also argue that Paul Huson’s excellent demonic summoning method in Mastering Witchcraft is another example, if a bit closer to the original Solomonic grimoire method. A reason this works is that it depends on skill in visualization and on a strong graphic imagination, something most occultists develop as a fundamental tool. If you are also adept in any form of visual art or creative writing, you may find that it’s really easy, powerful, and satisfyingly dramatic.
Celestial Angel
Magick, for me, in my subjective experience, is unique only in how it feels. Specifically, it feels incredibly light and
airy. This must be from my UPG, but when
I do a working from Lucifer and the Hidden Demons, there is a weighty,
almost leaden sensation that accompanies the visualizations. Not so with CAM. The first time I used it, I almost let myself
worry that nothing was happening outside my imagination. I normally get a
powerful sensation that spirit contact is happening within me but also beyond
me in some way, but I didn't this time.
Magical sensations,
especially those involving our otherwise invisible friends, are hard to describe. But that’s the main reason I’m writing this: Celestial
Angel Magick feels unique. I suspect
(and right now this can only be a suspicion) it may have to do with the fact
that these are lunar angels. As the
author puts it, the invocable spirits in the grimoire are the 28 angels of the
Mansions of the Moon. And though Hargrove
claims “these angels have real power, and best of all, it’s a power that feels strong
and weighty while being easy to access” (11), I’ve gotten the idea that the
moon phase will certainly affect the texture of the work. This probably means that sometimes the
feeling will be strong, but at other times, it will impart an almost
insubstantial, ephemeral sensation.
When I did my first
working from CAM, the moon was in Aquarius (spiritual air). The second was today with the moon in Pisces
(spiritual water). The airy and fluid
nature of these signs no doubt influenced my impressions. Only time will tell if the moon sign
consistently seems to condition the work.
Did I get
results? I did, both times, within 24
hours. In that sense, I should recommend
the grimoire as a work of practical practical magic. But, as the saying goes, your mileage may
vary. Just don’t be too quick to dismiss
Celestial Angel Magick if its spirits don’t slap you upside your head. Trust your visualization. Do the work.
Then watch and wait—as always.