The Defective Grammar

A method of approach to the spirits of the Book of Offices through

the use of effigies and the power imparted by them

by Julio Cesar Ody

Foreword
The present text is the last of a series of online posts in which offer an
analysis of the different aspects of my own approach to the spirits of the
Book of Offices, or as they’re more commonly known, the catalogue of the
Ars Goetia. A generous amount of research was devoted to understanding
the various practical aspects of the tradition from whence it emerges, and
more importantly, an inordinate amount of experimentation was put into
confirming whatever aspect I saw fit to be added to a formula that was
given.

Unlike what I see as a misleading tone in many writings of magic, this

text has no ambition of being a definitive guide, and hence the choice of
title. Presently, I don’t believe such a thing so much as exists as a unit that
can simply be taught, because it’s not a knowledge, but a progression
through a series of gestures and sacrifices that lead to the necessary changes
in oneself and in their relationship with the spirits, on which it all hinges.
Thus it is best seen as a source of inspiration for those seeking to meet
these spirits in their terms.

If I had to single out one aspect as the most essential to the magic of
the grimoires, it would be hierarchy; names uttered in conjuration and
imprinted on regalia. I see hierarchy as a language, and like most languages
it has dialects that are sometimes quite different but share the same root.
The articulation of these dialects under the auspices of starry sky is how I
define traditional ceremonial magic, as it primarily asks for an
understanding of what conditions influence the time and place of the
ritual, and the succession of names to be called. And to that end, informed
and persistent experimentation is by far the best way to assert what can and
cannot be done.

I believe a tradition of magic is only true when it leads to a tangible

connection with spirits, and while making an honestly defensible claim of
integrity in reference to Judeo-Christian magic is hardly possible, one does
themselves a disservice when dismissing the importance of spirit
introductions done with excellent form, which is what lies at the heart of
much what has been put in writing in source texts. With this I mean to
inspire an engagement orthogonal to the all too common peddling of
“results” that walks hand in hand with rationalising away its less accessible
parts. The time for minding about outcomes is after consciously trafficking
with spirits, not before.
 Last, the grimoire revival brought us many boons, notably the idea of
an amenable approach to spirits as superior to the adversarial format of
Solomonic manuscripts. I side with that view, but at the same time I
repudiate lukewarm approaches to evocation because, simply put, they tend
to be ineffective. Offerings, for instance, are all well and good but they are
not even remotely adequate a replacement for compelling a presence.
Contrary to what contemporary revisionism proposes, these aren’t
willingly participative spirits just waiting to be summoned. Should you
succeed at performing an operation, effective directions for working with
them will be given, naturally superseding what is advised here. And these
are likely to include appropriate sacrifices and the like.

Concerning the Book of Offices

Rather than argue all the whyfors of how magic was once done, I wish
to briefly provide relevant context for how we arrived at what is considered
by many a canonical text of magic: the Ars Goetia, and why I instead advise
the use of another.

The Book of Oberon, a contemporary translation of the Folger

Manuscript V.B. 26, includes an extended version of the Officium de
spirittibus, or as it is more popularly known, the Book of Offices of Spirits.
Mentions of a manuscript named along those lines are found in the
writings of Johannes Trithemius, and later in Johann Weyer’s
Pseudomonarchia Daemonum. Weyer’s work, however, omits a crucial part
of the catalogue, namely the existence of three chief demons: Lucifer,
Belzebuth, and Satan. Joseph Peterson in his online translation of the
Pseudomonarchia mentions a note to the reader left by Weyer in which he
admits to the removal being intentional “in order to render the whole work
unusable”. Weyer’s catalogue was used by Reginald Scot in his Discoverie of
Witchcraft, a skeptic treatise on the practices of witches, which in turn was
used for composing the catalogue of the Ars Goetia. Up until that point,
there were no sigils in the catalogue and the hierarchical placements were
very different. As an aside, the absence of sigils provides an interesting
point of reflection, as it stands to reason that the assumption was a
magician would need obtain them through an operation, or simply work
with no more than the names.

It is known then that these books containing spirit names and offices
circulated since at least the 1500s, although it’s unclear whether a
procedure was always included. In the one annexed to Folger V.B. 26, several
approaches to calling the spirits forth are included among other formulae
for various purposes. It briefly explains the role of the four cardinal kings
and exemplifies their use. Also of interest in this regard is the method given
in The Excellent Booke of the Arte of Magick, a treatise part of the British
Library’s Additional MS. 36674 which to my knowledge features one of the
better examples of use of the four kings in conjuration.

Overall, having in mind the manner in which tradition proposes the

hierarchy should work — the chiefs as supreme demonic rulers and the
kings as immediate licensors of their deputies — the Ars Goetia falls
short both as a catalogue and a manual due to the omission of the chiefs
and the obliteration of the order of spirits below them. With that said, I
don’t mean to imply that working with its catalogue impossible, nor that
the names as are given in it aren’t in some cases sufficient for reaching the
spirits, certain balancing factors being in place. Only that one would be
rendering the work significantly more circumstantial if they chose to
operate through it.
 Therefore, for its completeness and in the interest of keeping this piece
focused on a method, I’ve opted for outsourcing a spirit catalogue to the
Book of Oberon, with extra attention given to the rulerships of the chiefs and
kings, as that is the more essential part.

The effigies of chiefs

It is typically the case in Judeo-Christian manuscripts and books of
magic that the treatment of demons is eminently utilitarian. They’re to be
summoned, bound into performing a task, and released. The tooling and
the structure of its rituals both reflects an adversarial view of the spirits
evoked and addresses their unwillingness to appear and speak the truth. Of
the two, only the latter is made room for in how I approach them.

In addition, traditional approaches demand purity in the form of

cleaningless of the ritual space, garments, and tools, but also purity of body
by abstaining of sex, alcohol and other things commonly associated with
moral vices by the religion for extended periods of time. Those seeking to
work closely with chief demons will likely find it difficult to do so in this
exact manner. None of these are traits of the spirits themselves, but of the
prophets and mythological personas the Solomonic magician seeks to
mimick, in what is in itself a valid approach if the intention is to follow on
their steps. But that is also not what I propose, only an appreciation of
recurring techniques that happen to be present in the Solomonic tradition
but that most definitely did not begin with it — evidenced by
commonalities with the earlier and “dirtier” Graeco-Egyptian magic—
and that were given it’s most radical and innovative expressions in
traditions such as Trinidadian Obeah, Hatian Voudon, Quimbanda, and
various strands of traditional witchcraft found in Europe.
 A meeting in the spirit’s terms is not only possible, but quite likely
desirable for what it enables. One timeless method is the making of
consecrated images and their regular culting. Statues, pots and boxes all fit
the purpose, and if necessary they can be made with assistance of
practicioners who have experience with the spirit (not trivially found,
despite claims of otherwise) or with the process of image-making. My own
work led me to pursue a statue of Lucifer from an obeahman who had
previously worked with the entity and could therefore charge it adequately,
for the purpose of making a shroud that covers my head while calling forth
the spirit evoked.

The shroud is a 50cm square piece of black linen with his sigil drawn in
white at the centre. Its consecration involved leaving it folded under the
statue for two weeks on an altar dedicated specifically to this purpose.
During this period, daily offerings were placed on a plate in front of the
statue and the following prayer was said:

Lucifer, protos, cunning, whisperer, dragon, king of Babylon, star

rising over the mountain, watcher at the crossroads! Impart upon this
shroud your voice. May through it you and I speak as one, as was the
voice of the kings you enthroned. Through it only truth will be spoken,
and may it forever sew my mouth shut if with your voice I utter even a
single lie. Amen.

The petition is for Lucifer to impart his authority to the magician

who will speak as him whenever wearing the shroud, greatly empowering
the act of compelling a deputy to appear. The conjuration offers a promise
in the latter part for encouraging him with an assurance that no abuse will
take place, as no such favour is ever offered without limits.
 Lamens, staves, and other icons can be made in a similar fashion, and
not necessarily need to be made after a statue of the chiefs’ emperor.
Personally, I believe one of the chiefs should demonstrate a predisposition
towards working with the practicioner over the others, and it’s worthwhile
resorting to a period of prayer and divination for establishing it, or
procuring a consultation with someone offering such services who is
positioned to reach intermediate spirits capable of finding this information
on behalf of another.

The image should continue to be used for furthering the relationship

with the chief and with that, strenghtening the power imparted to the item,
as well being a significant component of the practice that will be done on a
day-to-day basis.

The planets and the land

Two remaining aspects essential to this method are the seven planets
and the remote area where the rite will take place, or more precisely, the
dead that inhabit it. In both precursor pagan traditions and Solomonic
magic, the planets are seen as licensors for the operation and dispensers of
power. For example, in seminal texts such as the Hygromanteia, the horary
angels and demons said to rule on their behalf need to be sought for favour
prior to conducting the operation. The motivations for this belief have
endured for good reason, even though the practice did not remain uniform.

As I see it, working with the planets follows a steep curve, but in time
its effects become very perceptible, and thus it is best to “break” oneself
with an initial intense period of working them on a daily basis through a
short conjuring in the presence of fire and incense, so as to get past this
initial adaptative period within a reasonable amount of time. In another
essay titled A Magical Routine I advise an approach based on the Greek
Magical Papiry (PGM XIII. 763-889), which for a good while was a pillar of
my practice. This is, I admit, eclectic, vis-à-vis the distance between the two
traditions, and may appeal less than the much simpler prayer done at the
appropriate time as advised in the Hygromanteia. I suggest retaining the
Orphic Hymns as a conjuration along with appropriate incense, fire, and
doing this ceremony in the crack of the dawn during the initial period.

Also in the aforementioned essay, I recommend the development of a

routine of working with the dead on a spirit table set for this purpose, or a
boveda, three nights a week using either an ouija board or automatic
writing. This may sound simplistic, but techniques for communication
with the dead are in fact deceptively simple and require discipline most of
all. The real difficulty lies not in attaining something, but in persisting until
the work flourishes into repeat contact with spirits that are capable of
communicating well and are worth working with.

I should emphasise that an important part of the ritual given here is

the empowering of a designated area in the woods by healing provided to its
spiritual attendants, so their eventual enlisting in the process becomes
possible. This healing is done with the aid of spirits from the catalogue
whose offices are necromantic in nature, which should serve as excellent
motivation for starting out with them. Thus I submit that sterile
environments so adamantly recommended in certain traditional texts are
not conducive to evoking spirits. They’re only not averse. In addition, the
development of a relationship with spirits of the land should not be seen
merely an ancillary goal, but as a productive avenue of exploration.

While both of these activities will almost certainly result in a

sharpening of one’s spirit senses, demonic encounters brought about by
ritual can certainly benefit but aren’t necessarily predicated on it. The ritual
is designed to bring them to our field of perception. Achieving it will in
most cases take a respectable amount of time (and endurance, and
willpower) until one’s ritual form improves, the planetary work develops,
and the dead respond to the incentive provided.

Formula
Before conducting the first operation, honour the planets daily for the
space of at least two months, best if longer. Worship them in this fashion:
the moment sun cracks in the horizon, light a fire and say your prayers to
them as you burn an offering of appropriate planetary incense.

Either buy or forge a black handled knife. If forging, ideally employ

steel that has seen violence or iron. Prepare a wash with herbs of Mars and a
few drops of your own blood. Wash the knife with it under a full moon, dry
it and then paint the symbols below across the handle. Bury the knife blade
down for three nights. Unearth it, and keep it henceforth hidden and
wrapped in black cloth.

Be at the designated location on a Wednesday night in the hour of

Mercury. Bring four tall candles, a bell, the knife, a liver of a chicken or a
cow, milk, red wine, frankincense and a portable censer. Wear the chosen
garment before you step into the woods.
 At an area separated by a few steps from where the circle will be, so as to
not disturb the direction where the intended spirit’s king resides, fashion a
small bed of leaves or some such. Place the liver in it, and next to it pour
into a cup the milk and red wine mixed. Pray out loud:

From behind the curtain of darkness, come all of you who lie here.
At this hour, (spirit name) will be called and to you who assist me I
promise further appeasing to be given by (him/her). Carry my
appellations without delay as I pray.

Draw a circle of a convenient size on the dirt with the knife starting at
East, it being sufficiently distinguishable by candlelight and the moon
above. Light frankincense, and back East, draw the name of Oriens
immediately outside the circle and utter:

O eastern Oriens, most shining, most excellent king, who reigns

and hath command in eastern regions, whose kingdom commenced at
the beginning of the world and will endure until the end of the ages

Blow incense smoke towards the direction before moving on. You will
do so in each following instance.

Walk West, draw the name of Paymon and utter:

O thou Paymon, most glorious king, who holds powerful

dominion in the western regions of the heavens.
 Walk North, draw the name of Egyn and utter:

O thou Egyn, most strong ruler, whose kingdom and empire

reaches into the cold regions of the North.

Walk South, draws the sigil of Amaymon and utter:

O thou Amaymon, king most noble, who holds sway over the
regions of the South.

Walk back to the centre, turn East and say:

I invoke you all with power and I conjure you by the power of the
Emperor Lucifer, your sovereign Lord, and the obedience that you owe
to him, by Prince Belzebuth, most puissant, and by great and
powerful Count Astaroth that you grant me your aid: that you meet
me here right this moment, and provide assistance to my calling of
(spirit name). Allow me to be infallible in my goal as is my will and
your power.

Lie down face up with feet towards the direction of callee’s king and
cover your face with the consecrated shroud, as if his and your voice will
come from below black earth. Hold the bell on your right hand and the
knife on your left. Call forth:
 I conjure and invoke thee, o powerful king of the (cardinal
direction), (king’s name), in the name of the emperor Lucifer and by
all the names you have been called. By the labour of those to whom you
granted your presence and who died and were elevated, I call thee to
invest me with your power and command over (intended spirit’s
name), so that in your name (s)he attends to this meeting without delay.

Pause for a moment, toll the bell and call the name of the spirit you
chose to meet by uttering aloud:

Powerful (spirit name), your emperor calls you. In the name of

your king who stands in my presence, come at once!

With each toll and call, gradually increase the volume of your voice,
until shouting if necessary, stopping as the spirit announces themselves to
you. Uncover your face, stand up, and face the spirit. Traffic your deed and
make sure to request appeasement to the spirits of this place. Dismiss them
in the name of their king and the chief whose effigy you made, and take your
leave.
Selected bibliography
∴ Daniel Harms, James R. Clark, Joseph H. Peterson. The Book of Oberon.
(Llewellyn, 2015).
∴ Jake Stratton Kent. Testament of Cyprian the Mage. (Scarlet Imprint,
2014)
∴ Ars Goetia. (http://www.esotericarchives.com/solomon/goetia.htm)
∴ Paul Huson. Mastering Witchcraft: A Practical Guide for Witches,
Warlocks & Covens. (Perigee Trade, 1980).
∴ Nicholaj de Mattos Frisvold. Craft of the Untamed: An Inspired Vision of
Traditional Witchcraft. ( Mandrake of Oxford, 2010)
∴ Julio Cesar Ody, A Magical Routine. (http://crossing-
sun.tumblr.com/post/148611105658/a-magical-routine)
∴ Julio Cesar Ody, Magical Circles and Protection. (http://crossing-
sun.tumblr.com/post/145650091413/magical-circles-and-protection)