The Solomonic
Tradition of Magical Lore
Like Enoch and Moses before him, Solomon
became the focus for a unique tradition of grimoire-writing, stemming from the
fact that, when given the option by God to have anything that he desired, he
asked for all the wisdom of the world. To many philosophically-minded
commentators in later ages, this naturally meant all the dark and mystical wisdom
of the world as well. Legend goes on to say that Solomon was tempted by the
Queen of Sheba into the idolatrous worship of Moloch and Baal in later years,
so the magical traditions of these beliefs were generally supposed to be part
of his magical arsenal as well.
According to Biblical, apocryphal and
legendary sources, Solomon was capable of great feats of magic, including the
trapping of demonic spirits in order that they do his bidding. He was said to
have been able to ensnare all of the demons in creation inside a bottle which
was stoppered with a magical Seal of Solomon. These demons were then able to
build, at Solomon’s command, the Temple in Jerusalem – a massive stone edifice
– in only nine days. Naturally, many necromancers in later times eagerly sought
this powerful sigil.
As the sources of magic were later
believed to stem from Hebraic roots, largely influenced by commentaries on the
Kabbalah arising in southern Spain, books of magic attributed to Solomon began
to have greater currency on the mystical market. Most notably in Europe, the Clavicule of Solomon was a prime source
for grimoire manufacture, whereas books attributed to Moses, seen as having
African origins, had greater influence in the New World, especially in the
modern era.
Books attributed
to the Solomonic Tradition include, but are not limited to, the following:
Testament of Solomon
Almandel
Ars Notoria
Clavicula Salomonis
Clavicule of Solomon
Key of Solomon
Magical Treatise of Solomon
Little Key, or the Whole Art of
Hygromancy, Found by SeveralCraftsmen and by the Holy Prophet Solomon
Sepher Maphteah
Shelomoh (Book of the Key of Solomon)
The Book of Simon
Magus
“(9) But
there was a certain man called Simon, who earlier in the same city had used
sorcery and bewitched the people of Samaria, claiming that he was someone
great, (10) to whom they all gave heed from the least to the greatest, saying,
‘This man is great with the power of God.’ (11) And for him they had regard,
because for a long time he had bewitched them with sorceries. (12) But when they believed
Philip's preaching of the things concerning the Kingdom of God and the name of
Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women. (13) Then Simon himself
believed also; and when he was baptized he continued with Philip and wondered,
beholding the miracles and signs which were done.
(14) Now
when the apostles who were at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the Word
of God, they sent unto them Peter and John, (15) who, when they had come down,
prayed for them that they might receive the Holy Ghost. (16) (For as yet, He had
fallen upon none of them, for they had only been baptized in the name of the
Lord Jesus). (17) Then they laid their hands on them, and they received the Holy
Ghost.
(18) And
when Simon saw that through laying on of the apostles' hands the Holy Ghost was
given, he offered them money, (19) saying, ‘Give me also this power, that on
whomsoever I lay hands, he may receive the Holy Ghost.’
(20) But
Peter said unto him, ‘Thy money perish with thee, because thou hast thought
that the gift of God may be purchased with money! (21) Thou hast neither part nor
lot in this matter, for thy heart is not right in the sight of God. (22) Repent
therefore of this thy wickedness, and pray God that perhaps the thought of
thine heart may be forgiven thee. (23) For I perceive that thou art in the gall of
bitterness and in the bond of iniquity.’
(24) Then
Simon answered and said, ‘Pray ye to the Lord for me, that none of these things
which ye have spoken come upon me.’”
King James Bible: Acts of the Apostles,
8:9-8:24
Theologically, this is dangerous stuff.
Simon Magus (aka. Simon of Gitta or Simon the Sorcerer) appears in some
versions of the New Testament as a challenger to St. Peter, the Apostle. Simon
argues that Peter, like himself, is no more than a magician, versed in ancient
spells and able to summon spirits to his aid in causing ‘miracles’. In some
versions of the tale, Simon is treated somewhat sympathetically, coerced by
Roman detractors of Christ to ‘out’ the Apostles as frauds; in other versions,
he is depicted as proud and jealous of Peter’s abilities. The story serves the
Faithful as a reminder that ‘miraculous powers’ are only worthwhile if they
stem from God; anything else is a demonic trap. So it goes with Simon,
demonstrating his ability to fly using ‘spirits of the air’ to support him,
when a wave of Peter’s hand dispels the demons and Simon falls to the earth
(see picture, above) where, broken and bleeding, he is stoned to death by his
previously adoring fans. How fickle and fleeting is fame...
Here’s where it gets tricky: if Simon can
do exactly the kinds of things that Jesus could do, then surely it undermines
the authority of Jesus’ miracles. Jesus walks on water; Simon walks on water.
Jesus casts out devils from the possessed; Simon does likewise. For some, it
doesn’t cut much ice to say, “yes, but when Simon Magus does it, it’s bad”. So
theologians took the easy way out and relegated the stories of Simon Magus
largely to apocryphal works (leaving only the brief mention above). As well,
the Church suppressed – pro-actively or otherwise - any work claiming to be
from the hand of Simon Magus, the idea being apparently, that if Simon had a
list of spells to perform the miracles of Christ, Peter might have also had one
and that simply would not do.
But things have a way of creeping through
the bans and limitations: in the Renaissance era, legend had it that Pope
Honorius (of the Grimoire fame; more on him later) had a copy of The Book of
Simon Magus which informed his own mystical scribblings. Whether it was
legitimate or not remains unclear, but books on magic, like the Necronomicon,
don’t have to really exist to get around. Incidentally, the crime of ‘simony’,
or accepting money for the blessings of the Church, comes from Simon’s name.
[The Books of] Toz Graecus
What a difference a typo makes! As the
writings of the Egyptians crossed over into Spain, so too did the collected
works of Hermes Trismegistus, the Corpus Hermeticum. As the Church put pressure
on its agents to eradicate this material it slowly passed from view, to later
be reclaimed from Byzantine sources during the Renaissance. The error crept in
once the connexion between the Greek god Hermes and the Egyptian god Thoth had
been made.
Given that Hermes Trismegistus is a
conflation of these two entities anyway, it begs the question as to why a later
scholar would see fit to prise them apart once more. However, that’s what
happened: the mystical alchemist was identified as ‘Toz’ (Thoth) and his
Ptolemaic roots were underscored, leaving him forever after known as ‘Toz
Graecus’ or ‘Toz the Greek’. Like so many other grimoires, produced cheap and
on the backs of other writers, the texts of Toz Graecus are an often illiterate
garble of gibberish with a few tried-and-true home recipes thrown in for good
measure.
Of course, this may have been a cunning
plan: against the background of publishing Spain – soon to be identified as a
hotbed of heretical and satanic printing – setting the watchdogs on the trail
of a fictitious author may have allowed the actual writings of Hermes
Trismegistus a few more decades of relative freedom. Or it may have merely been
a spelling error. We’ll never know for sure...
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