Book Reviews

The Truth about Magic

Richard Smoley
New York: G&D Media, 2021. 187 pp., hardcover, $30.

The Truth about Magic is also available in six parts in audio and video form from Vimeo for $4.95 per part.

Books on magic flood the market today. Readers can explore everything from candle magic and crystal magic to queer magic and sex magic. Some titles even employ the archaic spelling magick.

The blessing of this great wave of publications is the dissemination of a wealth of wisdom and the proliferation of voices that were once muted and tragically oppressed. The challenge is deciding what to read. Many books target the committed novice, many others the seasoned practitioner. But where does the earnest seeker go for reliable information and orientation?

Richard Smoley’s latest work fills this important gap in the literature. In less than two hundred pages, The Truth about Magic explains the reason behind magic, its immense cosmic range, and its enduring relevance for the twenty-first century.

Smoley condenses a lifetime of scholarship and experimentation into this slim volume. His previous works, well known to students of the world’s occult and mystical traditions, have significantly advanced our understanding of topics such as Gnosticism, esoteric Christianity, love, and forgiveness. A remarkable career can yield both the definitive multivolume magnum opus and the portable primer that communicates the same comprehensive view in fewer pages.

This book follows the way of refinement, with close attention to readability. In twenty-four concise chapters, Smoley guides both newcomer and initiate through the diverse dimensions of the world of magic and the stages of the spiritual life.

Beginning with an introductory chapter on the theme of knowledge, the book progresses through subjects such as meditation, the life force, psychic powers, astrology, the Tarot, ghosts, evil, witchcraft, the kingdom of God, and the New Age. In each chapter, Smoley acquaints the reader with the appropriate terminology, the perennial debates, the contemporary consensus (if any), and especially the issues at stake in what are often centuries-long conversations.

Without a doubt, the book is founded on acceptance of an unseen world. The vast universe we encounter with our five senses, Smoley maintains, is simply the thin crust of a dramatically more expansive realm of being. Beyond that, though, he negotiates a carefully plotted middle course between total skepticism and uncritical belief. Knowledge of spiritual reality does not endow anyone with omniscience.

The dominant tone of the book is established by the author’s awe before the spiritual world, his confidence in the power of human intuition, and his humility in light of humanity’s inability to grasp the fullness of things—at least on this temporal plane. A critique of scientific materialism animates the whole book.

Smoley is particularly strong on the most personal issues, such as meditation, love, life after death, healing, psychedelics, and reincarnation. Here his extensive travels, prodigious reading, and distinctive personal experiences converge into the making of a rich portrait of the human person seamlessly woven into the fabric of all creation, both visible and invisible.

Smoley is at his most provocative when speaking on the lost ancient city of Atlantis and the implicit fraternity dubbed the Brotherhood, the network of enlightened souls around the world contributing to global awakening. Theosophy appears briefly in the chapter on the afterlife.

Ultimately, what is most striking about the book is its attention to the needs of the reader. Smoley unites the theoretical and the practical, suggesting exercises for meditation, revealing his own struggles with the medical establishment, appealing to the virtue of everyday decency, and offering advice, learned the hard way, on the use of psychoactive drugs.

Readers from a broad array of perspectives will benefit greatly from this deceptively simple book. It unveils the world of magic without pride or pretense, but it also holds nothing back. The author’s sincerity and credibility are displayed on every page. He speaks in first person, connects intimately with his audience, and is not afraid to admit ignorance or uncertainty. By contrast, his erudition is felt but never caught drawing attention to itself. The craft is executed with a subtlety worthy of the topic.

A shortcoming is the book’s lack of at least a modest bibliography. Smoley generously shares the stage with figures such as Plato, Swedenborg, Gurdjieff, Jung, Joseph Campbell, Huston Smith, and the writers of the Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita, the Bible, and A Course in Miracles. Their texts and other suggested readings, however, are only minimally referenced. Seekers drawn to this introductory survey will be eager to chart the next phase of their development. Most will pack the book for the journey or pass it to another pilgrim. An extraordinary achievement in narrow compass, The Truth about Magic invites us to recognize the magic in everything.

Peter A. Huff

Peter A. Huff, an academic administrator and professor of religious studies, is the author or editor of seven books, including the forthcoming Atheism and Agnosticism.

Effortless Living: Wu-Wei and the Spontaneous State of Natural Harmony

JASON GREGORY
Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions, 2018, xxii + 187 pp., paper, $16.99.

We believe we know what we want, but do we know what we need? One of my mantras, created from personal experience, has long been: want nothing, and the universe will give you all needful things. From an Eastern viewpoint, the metaphysics of thought is more than just wanting something and expecting it to manifest. A danger in wanting is that we will get what we want rather than what the universe knows we need, which can pull us away from our true spiritual path.

Wanting generally comes from the ego, which “thinks it knows best for you. But your ego does not know what is best for you,” writes Jason Gregory in his beautifully written book, Effortless Living, which takes us down another path—that of the Tao and the practice of wu-wei, “the natural state of our consciousness.” As Gregory says, the teaching of Lao-tzu, founder of Taoism, is one of “naturalness”: no forcing, no striving to control life and outcomes. Wu-wei means nondoing, nonaction, or effortless action. It is, he says, an “effortless psychological experience” of “‘allowing’ a state of ‘intelligent spontaneity.’”

That is similar to what we find in Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s book Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, which defines flow as “the ability to take misfortune and make something good come of it” and “is a very rare gift.” People who can go with the flow have “unselfconscious self-assurance . . . their energy is typically not bent on dominating their environment as much as on finding a way to function within it harmoniously,” writes Csikszentmihalyi.

Trust is an important element in going with the flow and allowing natural harmony to exist. “To trust the universe means to let life be without trying to impose our will over it in any way,” Gregory says. “When we trust completely, our physical, mental, and spiritual planes of consciousness harmonize with the heartbeat of the Earth.” In that way we can experience the harmony of nature and learn a way of “being” rather than constant “doing.”

Gregory addresses synchronicity, explaining that fate “takes into account the relationship between our inner and outer worlds” and “is diametrically opposed to chance.” Wu-wei involves the harmonization of our inner and outer worlds, trusting in the “unfolding of fate in our lives” and becoming “aware of synchronicity.”

It is this harmony that Gregory discusses in teaching about wu-wei; when we have gone beyond thought and beyond doing to no-thinking and nondoing, we are free to live spontaneously and with grace. In India, he notes, “this grace comes about because of the ability to see that everything is done when left undone.”

Another way of looking at this, from Alexandria David-Neel’s book The Secret Oral Teachings in Tibetan Buddhist Sects, is “nothing to be done.” Something might be done or could be done, but using the art of nondoing, there is nothing to be done because everything is already perfect as it is in the zone or the flow of the experience. Inserting our will, our wants, desires, and wishes into the world disrupts the harmony of nature. Gregory reminds us that “human life is an intrinsic part of nature because a human being is nature.” Remembering that is important because “the human being corresponds to nature by allowing all aspects of universal life to take their natural course without conscious interference.”

Can there be a harmonization between doing and nondoing? Gregory looks to the Indian sage Patanjali for understanding that “the ‘doing’ of practice is in alignment with the evolutionary unfolding while the ‘non-doing’ of stillness brings one in resonance with the Eternal Self, which is the source of Tao within us.”

Doing is more valued in today’s world than nondoing, “yet the act of leaving things alone allows the Tao to bring harmony into the world without our personal interference,” Gregory says. “Working against the nature of Tao . . . leaves humanity in a place of desperate survival. . . . Disharmony on all fronts is the outcome.”

Gregory’s book gives us the gift and the freedom of no striving and no struggle, and teaches us that often nondoing—seeking the stillness of nonaction—is the better way.

Clare Goldsberry

Clare Goldsberry, of the Phoenix Study Center, is a freelance writer and author of The Teacher Within: Finding and Living Your Personal Truth. Her article “A Stranger No More: A Journey through Mormonism” appeared in the fall 2018 Quest.

The Miracle Club: How Thoughts Become Reality 

MITCH HOROWITZ
Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions, 2018. 182 pp., paper, $16.99.

Mitch Horowitz, a writer, speaker, and TS member, is steeped in the philosophy of New Thought, which holds that thoughts create form; as Horowitz says, “thoughts are causative.” His latest book, The Miracle Club, is what he calls a “guidebook” to New Thought and metaphysics and why it works for those who know how to perform its practices. Horowitz’s book pays “homage” to his New Thought heroes, particularly the mid–twentieth century author and speaker Neville Goddard.

“Thinking in a direct, highly focused, and emotively charged manner expands our capacity to perceive and concretize events,” Horowitz says, “and relates us to the non-tactile field of existence that surpasses ordinarily perceived boundaries of time and thought.”

Thought is “generative” and “must be supplemented by courageous action. Never omit that,” Horowitz emphasizes, adding in a later chapter that “thoughts/ideas must be acted upon or they weaken and die,” which is “tragic.”

Because thoughts are causative, Horowitz tells us that the “true nature of life is to be generative—to be happy, human beings must exercise their fullest range of abilities—including the exertions of outer achievement” (emphasis here and in other quotes his). Again we encounter the “doing” that Horowitz believes is essential to creating our life and fulfilling our wants and desires. “Thought without labor is like faith without works: dead,” writes Horowitz, encouraging the use of the “force” of an “overlooked energy: The power of one deeply felt wish. One finely honed, exclusively focused, deeply felt and passionately felt desire.” You must want it “with your whole soul,” because “what you want is what you get.”

Horowitz explores New Thought’s version of “prosperity theology,” noting that “your creative agency, and the thoughts with which you impress it contribute to the actualized events of your existence—including money.” He questions the Eastern idea of nonattachment and says that no matter what profession or trade we are in, we should want wealth: “You must see wealth as a necessary and vital facet of your life,” he writes. Many modern-day spiritual writers (he names Eckhart Tolle and Michael A. Singer as two of them) “have not provided Westerners with a satisfying response to materialism because it seems to divert the individual from the very direction in which he may find meaning, which is toward the compass point of achievement.”

Horowitz does not define any other types of wealth or achievement other than financial and material, although he does encourage us toward “simplicity of habit and reduction of wants,” noting that “abundance can be a kind of slavery insofar as it feeds and foments . . . the lowest self within us that feeds on habit, consumption, and routine.”

“Methods in Mind Power” is a chapter that teaches us how to create miracles in our lives, and Horowitz give us four practices: affirmation; visualizations, which might attract someone who can help us get what we want (he offers the caveat is that “wanting” some achievement often “breeds impatience”); praying (Horowitz believes in “petitionary” prayer—“asking, even demanding, something specific from God”); and meditation—a practice he says is “vital to any spiritual journey.” But that journey also requires “impassioned commitment” (doing) as well.

Horowitz criticizes what he believes are New Thought’s shortcomings, including its failure to provide a viable “theology of suffering.” But perhaps the real problem with New Thought is that it needs to recover its roots in the Eastern philosophies—Hinduism, Buddhism, the Tao—in order to provide a way for people to live more effortlessly, without the struggle of achieving and gaining material wealth when “do what you love and the money will follow” might be a better path. The strain of forcing the world out there into a mold of what we want it to be is the source of our suffering, said the Buddha.

Horowitz’s guidebook gives us plenty of doing, even though the stillness of nonaction is often the better way. Both, however, can serve us well when used with what the Buddha called “right intention” to serve the higher good.

 Clare Goldsberry

Clare Goldsberry, of the Phoenix Study Center, is a freelance writer and author of The Teacher Within: Finding and Living Your Personal Truth. Her article “A Stranger No More: A Journey through Mormonism” appeared in the fall 2018 Quest.

The Spiritual Meaning of the Sixties: The Magic, Myth, and Music of the Decade That Changed the World

TOBIAS CHURTON
Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions, 2018. 672 pp., paper, $40.

One can dispute the ultimate value of the ’60s as far as the quality of the decade’s art, music, or social mores go—and many have. What is harder to dispute is the seismic impact that it made on global culture. On any number of levels it was a period that witnessed profound changes convulsing society, and which continue reverberating in our lives up through the present day.

Author of such books as Occult Paris and Aleister Crowley in America, Tobias Churton turns his gaze toward that volatile decade and tackles the complex question of what spiritual lessons may be drawn from it.

As someone who came of age during that time and who closely followed many of its popular trends, I thought I already knew quite a bit about it. So I was pleasantly surprised by Churton’s encyclopedic overview, which ranges from discussions about developments not only in music, cinema, and television, but in religion, civil rights, and feminism, among many others. It’s a sprawling and kaleidoscopic work, and along the way he manages to sprinkle in a host of curious tidbits that will surprise even close students of the era. (Who knew the great pop composer Burt Bacharach had studied with the pioneering classical composer Darius Milhaud?) In the process he attempts to provide a sense of historical context to the decade, involving side trips into such areas as Gnosticism, medieval troubadours, and Hindu philosophy; he also digs down to mine the deeper import of many seemingly secular manifestations of the time, including the movie Easy Rider or the TV series I Love Lucy.

The book is over 600 pages long, so I sometimes feared the essential thread of his argument was in danger of getting lost amidst the avalanche of facts, figures, and personalities he’s somehow able to marshal up with little effort. (Unfortunately, I suspect the book’s hefty length might also keep away some readers, especially younger ones, who are accustomed to consuming information in more sound-bite form.) But he’s an engaging writer and in the end manages to tie those diverse threads together in a way that reveals more ambiguity about the topic than I initially suspected he might bring to it. He doesn’t pretend to present the decade through the rose-colored glasses many now associate with that time, but neither does he give short shrift to its more profound and esoteric implications.

While the book is exhaustively researched, there are some areas I wish had been included that are mentioned only in passing. As an astrologer, I felt his book could have benefited from a discussion of the astrological dynamics at work at the time, since those are so critical to illumining the turbulent and creative manifestations of the decade. But that would have taken his book in a somewhat more arcane direction than he intended, and it would have expanded an already large book even more, so that’s more of a personal quibble than a damning criticism. For readers interested in adding just such a perspective to their understanding of this period, I recommend reading Richard Tarnas’s (equally hefty) volume Cosmos and Psyche alongside Churton’s, specifically its passages on the revolutionary interaction of Uranus and Pluto during the ’60s. Another useful resource complementing Churton’s would be Gary Lachman’s excellent volume Turn Off Your Mind: The Mystic Sixties and the Dark Side of the Age of Aquarius, which focuses on the more turbulent and troubling elements at work during the decade without ignoring its more positive contributions. 

All in all, Churton has written a fascinating and important book, and it is a must-read for any reader with an interest in the ’60s or contemporary culture generally.

Ray Grasse

Ray Grasse worked on the editorial staffs of Quest Books and Quest magazine from 1989 to 1999. He is author of several books, including Signs of the Times (Hampton Roads, 2002), which includes an astrological discussion of the ’60s and their relevance to the emerging Aquarian Age. His website is www.raygrasse.com.