Tag Archives: 1920

Psychic Phenomena and Humble Horseradish

Works · Reviews

By BENJAMIN DE CASSERES

YOUR PSYCHIC POWERS AND HOW TO DEVELOP THEM. By Hereward Carrington. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co.

MODERN SPIRITISM. By A. T. Schofield, M. D. Philadelphia: P. Blakiston’s Son & Co.

VOICES FROM THE VOID. By Hester Travers Smith. New York: E. P. Dutton & Co.

IN the heyday and freshness of our youth we used to laugh at Signor Mantalini’s bit of Apocalyptic humor that things mundane were going to the “demnition bow-wows.” Mantalini was a prophet. We, personally, were an ass. The torrential bombardment out of the void of a thousand thousand sick brains of books on psychic phenomena proves it.

Man is so sophisticated that he is sick. The earth, with its perpetual carnival of miracles, no longer gives him a thrill. He heaves with the great Flaubertian yawn of pan-ennui and calls on the Witch of Endor, the Eleusinian Abracadabrists and the sensibilities of jaded ex-scientists to give him a final thrill. He is tired of being the Great Wonder, Man; he wants to be a ghost. The Great Decay has set in. Universal repression and travail have released his insane complexes. The Far-Off Divine Event has issued in haunted houses, ouija boards, crystals, psychometric pussyfooting back to pre-Devonian Devas and other fallals. These things are all true and interesting, like cancer and fire-damp. But it is springtime, and the appearance of the tiniest bud is more amazing than all the ghosts and subconscious maunderings in the thousand and one tales of the New Arabian Nights of the Underworld.

Hereward Carrington seems to have taken over all syndicate rights on the “other world.” From the number of books to his credit on psychic phenomena we believe he must work in three shifts in the spiritist factory, catching cat-naps in some divinely intercalated hour. We have not read all his books merely because the rent problem has kept us in the courts so much of the time.

“Your Psychic Powers” is a complete angler in the sub-dimensions. How to fish for ghosts and tame them; how to trawl in the running river of Time and scoop up auras; how to bait your fingers for psychometric visions; how to tell a real “control” nibble from a false one—all these things are set forth in 358 pages of substantial English.

Mr. Carrington has a businesslike, direct style. We desire to persuade the Government to employ him to get up its next series of income tax blanks. These bureaucratic excursions in mystical mathematics could, under Mr. Carrington’s direction, be reduced to the simplicity of the auric egg, or the homogeneity of the akasic fluid, expounded and made so comprehensible in this book that the veriest child, whether in the primary, secondary or tertiary stage of his childhood, can understand it.

Credit must be given to Mr. Carrington for explaining in a preface that he doesn’t necessarily indorse all the “truths” or the practices recommended in the book; and it is without question the best and most complete, the clearest and the most sensibly compiled compendium of “dippy” lore that we have read.

“Modern Spiritism” is by A. T. Schofield, M. D., whose book on “The Unconscious Mind” was, he says, the first one on that tremendous subject ever written in English. Science received it then with “howls of derision.” That was then. Now nobody can get along without an unconscious mind. It is the rowdy rathskellar of our suppressed karmas.

Mr. Schofield, being an M. D., naturally runs to “cases.” He throws wide the doors of the psychic clinic and lectures on the “evidences” strewn around on the marble slabs. Mr. Schofield, being more of a religious turn of mind than Mr. Carrington, has installed an “Elijah Chorus” and an organ in the loft of the demonstrating room, and every hour or so the reader and the author knock off work together and take a cacophonic dose of the Glad Tidings in the Light of Modern Spiritistic Phenomena—and all that. There is nothing original in Dr. Schofield’s book. He is even “deeply conscious of its imperfections.” But it is an imperfect world, and we fear that even the psycho-ghost luminaries are made in its image.

“Voices from the Void” is by the daughter of the late Professor Edward Dowden, Mrs. Hester Travers Smith. Sir William Barrett has written the introduction and avouches for the genuineness of the experiments carried on by Mrs. Smith. All checks drawn on the other world nowadays have an endless number of indorsers, but is there any money in the bank?—that is, is there anybody or anything “over the line”?

A close reading of the book indicates to us that the title, “Voices from the Void,” is strictly true. There is a void—even a vacuum—and the human race is the victim of unconscious ventriloquy. It is listening to its own voice in the belly of the void.

These psychic books—what are they all worth beside this tremendous book of psychic phenomena that nature is opening before our eyes?

Sursum Corda! Here is springtime again—Spring, the perpetual, transfigurating, undecipherable miracle of a sublimely ironical Dieu.

Messrs. Carrington, Schofield and Madam Smith, come to the séance in my back yard, for the blush is on the horseradish!

Original publication
Benjamin DeCasseres, “Psychic Phenomena and Humble Horseradish,” New York Times Book Review, April 18, 1920, p. 189 (index-supplied).

Books reviewed

Threshold

Works · Poetry

By Benjamin De Casseres.

An elfin thought on the marge of my mind,
    Like a glittering butterfly flown from a
        drownéd sky,
Or like a sudden strain of windy music heard at
    the edge of a star—
An elfin thought on the marge of my mind
That touches me with innuendoes of past ecstasies
And whistles from its puckered heart wild airs
Learned in the Bedlams of spiritual unreason.

Copyright, 1920, by Benjamin De Casseres.

Original publication
Benjamin De Casseres, “Threshold,” The Sun, Books and the Book World, January 11, 1920, p. 4. The index additionally identifies section 6; section number unverified.

Poetry bibliography

The Sea

Works · Poetry

By Benjamin De Casseres.

I AM the Sea,
    Sower of lightnings, breeder of rainbows,
Screeching and yowling like a Titan new born.

I rove like a hyena from the cellars of earth
To the plinth of the heavens,
Swinging the starlight in my censers of wind.

I fill up the clouds till they rain on the heavens,
And a word from my mouth makes food out o’
    humans,
The while I yawp and I rave and I lambaste
    Gibraltars.

Yea, I am the Sea, the Walt Whitman of elements.

Copyright, 1920, by Benjamin De Casseres.

Originally published in The Sun, Books and the Book World, January 25, 1920, p. 6. 1920–1929 article index.

Poetry bibliography