A Journey to the Bottom of a Rabbit Hole (Interlude #3)

Rosslyn Chapel - window on north side. Photo credit ©: Rob Farrow.
(All images in this post can be clicked-on for original size.)

"The building of cathedrals was part of a colossal and cleverly devised plan which permitted the existence of entirely free philosophical and psychological schools in the rude, absurd, cruel, superstitious, bigoted and scholastic Middle Ages. These schools have left us an immense heritage, almost all of which we have already wasted without understanding its meaning and value."

- A quote attributed to P.D. Ouspensky. sourced from Tim Wallace Murphy's Enigma of the Freemasons: Their History and Mystical Connections (2006). Inset right is a column from the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York, featuring the Kabbalistic Tree of Life symbol.

"The Gothic cathedral, that sanctuary of tradition, science and Art, should not be regarded as a work dedicated solely to the glory of Christianity, but rather as a vast concretion of ideas, of tendencies, of popular beliefs, a perfect whole to which we can refer without fear, whenever we would penetrate the religious, secular, philosophic or social thoughts of our ancestors."

- Another quote sourced from Murphy's book which originated from Le Mystère des Cathédrales (1926) by a mysterious French alchemist known only as "Fulcanelli." Inset left is another - more enigmatic - column from the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.

From Chartres Cathedral in France: a mechanized astrological clock added in 1528.

***

What's this? A third Interlude?

Alas, yes. As you may have guessed, I've been tottering on the brink of one rabbit hole or another for months now, so, I suppose it was inevitable I'd lose my footing eventually. Originally, I intended to add 2 quotes I found recently (now posted above) to the Chinese Sewing Basket addendum - in which I mention Notre Dame de Paris - and, for all sensible reasons, that's where the operation should've ended.

But, no. Instead, I decided to Google the French alchemist Fulcanelli (who wrote the second quote above)... a man I was unfamiliar with. After all, a writer should know her subject matter, right?

Famous Last Words. For, at that very moment, although unbeknownst to myself, a massive black rabbit hole was silently opening directly beneath my feet like the mouth of a terrestrial Moby Dick.

Maybe it's the topic itself: alchemy - specifically hermeticism - the black hole of the esoteric world. The further you go, the less you know. And, as for Fulcanelli... ah, yes, Fulcanelli, now there's a name to conjure with. And, certainly many have. For some he's the man-who-never-was with an ongoing archive of potential identities (see the Fr. Wiki entry).

But, ultimately, this post isn't about Fulcanelli any more than it's about cathedrals. As it so happened, while ferreting out info about Fulcanelli I discovered his friend, Julien Champagne, also a French alchemist and an artist. It was he who created the frontispiece emblem (inset left) for Fulcanelli's Mystère des Cathédrales.

(Continued below the jump...)

Sub Rosa (Another Interlude)

At the Garden Gate - digital - 2019, DS.
(Click-on post images for enlargements.)

"In the driest whitest stretch of pain's infinite desert, I lost my sanity and found this rose."

- Attributed to the Sufi mystic and poet Rumi.

“Mystery glows in the rose bed and the secret is hidden in the rose...”

- Attributed to the twelfth-century Persian poet and alchemist, Farid ud-din Attar, about whom Rumi once said: "Attar has traversed the seven cities of Love, We are still at the turn of one street."

"Le ciel clair de minuit, sous mes paupières closes,
Rayonne encor… Je suis ivre de tant de roses
Plus rouges que le vin.

Délaissant leur jardin, les roses m’ont suivie…
Je bois leur souffle bref, je respire leur vie.
Toutes, elles sont là."

(The clear midnight sky, under my closed lids,
Still shines....I am drunk from so many roses
Redder than wine.

Leaving their garden, the roses have followed me....
I drink their brief breath, I breathe their life.
All of them are here.)

- From the poem Les roses sont entrées (Roses Rising) by Symbolist poète maudit, Renée Vivien. I've written more about Vivien here. Inset right is Pre-Raphaelite John Waterhouse's 1908 painting The Soul of the Rose.


"Come into the garden, Maud, 

For the black bat, night, has flown, 
Come into the garden, Maud, 
I am here at the gate alone; 
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, 
And the musk of the rose is blown.

For a breeze of morning moves, 
And the planet of Love is on high, 
Beginning to faint in the light that she loves 
In a bed of daffodil sky, 
To faint in the light of the sun she loves, 
To faint in his light, and to die."

- From Alfred, Lord Tennyson's controversial 1854 "monodrama" Maud, which was eventually set to music. Part I of the poem can be found here, and Part II here. Inset left is the 1875 image Maud by the British photographer Julia Cameron.

"I am the dove whose wings are murder.

My name is love."

- From the short poem Au Revoir by the poet Charles Causley, the "most unfashionable poet alive." Like the symbol of the rose, the dove is also associated with Venus (Aphrodite), the goddess of love. The pentagram, on the other hand, is often associated with the planet Venus.

***

Spring is officially here, and, like most humans, my thoughts predictably turn to... well, love.   Suffice to say, while duty calls me back to my feminist artist series, my muse - who generally errs on the side of passion - has other intentions. And, for an artist, there is no dilemma involved. The answer is simple: follow the muse or be damned. Hence, another interlude.

Today's offering emerged from the image which introduces this post... an image which has haunted me this past month, inspired by a similar rose and pentagram motif on the ruined facade of a Templar church (found here). In my vision, it lies in shadow on the exterior of a garden wall flanking a wrought-iron gate. But, not just any garden, mind you; specifically a night garden... the garden of poets.

Inset left is another image I finished recently which had originally been intended for this post - a live scan of a bracelet - (added April 9).

Judging by his poem Maud, Tennyson would've known the night garden intimately... but, then, many critics and scholars came to regard his "monodrama" Maud as the work of deluded man with bipolar disorder. Meanwhile, Tennyson considered it his favorite and most successful composition. Inset right is an image of Tennyson reading Maud by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The moral to this story? For an artist or poet, attending to the opinions of critics and scholars is comparable to throwing ones body beneath a swiftly moving vehicle.

As it happens, my purpose of writing this post is not entirely clear to me. But, something about the relativity of love, roses... souls... and silence seems to be the underlying theme. Ultimately, it is silence which enables the ancient mystery of love to survive. For an artist, the allusion (and illusion) must suffice. And, yet, while I can't exactly elucidate, I can leave you with this: a definition of sub rosa I found in a book about Freemasonry:

"The rose, and especially the red rose had been from ancient times the symbol of Aphrodite or Venus, the goddess of love. It was symbolic of love, and making love was something private and not to be discussed openly. Cupid (Eros) therefore dedicated the rose to Harpocrates, the god of silence. Hence, the red rose of Aphrodite became the general symbol of silence and secrecy, and perhaps also of invisibility. Anything spoken sub rosa - under the rose - was confidential."

- From The Origins of Freemasonry, Scotlands Century 1590 - 1710  (via a discussion about the Rosicrucians) by David Stevenson, 1988.

On the other hand, from the Wiki article on Harpocrates we have: "One other tale relates the story about the Greek gods. Aphrodite gave a rose to her son Eros, the god of love; he, in turn, gave it to Harpocrates to ensure that his mother's indiscretions (or those of the gods in general, in other accounts) were kept under wraps. This gave roses the connotation of secrecy (a rose suspended from the ceiling of a council chamber pledged all present – sub rosa "under the rose"), which continued through the Middle Ages and through the modern era."