Discover Top Posts Tagged with #count stenbock

Popular Recent

Count Stanislaus Eric Stenbock, Of Kings and Things: Strange Tales and Decadent Poems, edited by David Tibet (London: Strange Attractor Press, 2018). 319 pages. Hardcover special edition, signed by David Tibet. https://www.ebay.com/itm/254537626729

#count stenbock #stenbock #count stanislaus eric stenbock #decadent #decadence #decadent literature #symbolist literature #occult #weird fiction #limited edition #hardcover #signed copy #david tibet #strange attractor press

From “Faust” by Count Stenbock

Riches I had, certainly--but not to the extent I would have, to enable me to realise all dreams. Power I also had to some degree--not to that degree I aspired to. Then I said, “There is yet another thing in that I am wholly deficient. I mean Love. Yes, that is the reason why the sea is listless, and the rocks merely mathematical.” I had just painted a picture, representing Cupid working at mathematical problems on a slate, with a pair of equally weighted scales behind. By this I meant to represent my own state of mind. I could not possibly love. I weighed every emotion in the balance, and reckoned it out and analysed it. And then there was no beauty I had ever seen who could satisfy my cravings for the Ideal.

As I was thinking thus, the air became gradually perfumed. A strange delicious scent, mingled of honeysuckle, jasmine, incense and spices. Then before me there was a faint glimmer of rose-violet colour, bordered with silver, from which the scent seemed to emanate. Then the light grew brighter, and in the midst thereof there was an apparition--something incomparably and entirely beautiful. It was a figure entirely nude, shaped like the Greek Hermaphrodite. But, oh, how much more beautiful! All conceivable beauties of both sexes were blended in its beautiful lines. The face was beyond description in its incredible loveliness. Its long hair was bronze-coloured, with threads of gold. The mouth was infinitely sweet, the eyes, which were of dark violet, infinitely sad.

It said, (I do not know that it actually spoke, for what it said seemed rather to impress the mind than the outward hearing, and yet it was like a human voice speaking, singularly sweet, accompanied by far-off music) “I have all knowledge. By the knowledge that I can impart ye may be as gods, knowing good and evil. All the riches of the earth are mine, and all power is given unto me. Or--” (here the voice became railing and scornful), “I have it! Then,” (here the voice became infinitely tender) “I am a Seraph: my life is love. All I ask in return is a little love. I show mercy unto thousands of them that love me. My children, my chosen, who worship me, my children, my chosen, taken from the elect of mankind, whose intellect is sufficient to understand me.”

“Who art thou?” I asked.

“Men name me by different names,” he said. “Many call me Shaitan, the enemy: my followers call me the Lightbearer.” (Then the voice again became railing and scoffing). “We do not go by our right names. They call Him Jehovah, or Adonai, but His real name is--” Then he said out loud, with a mocking laugh, that which no mortal has dared to pronounce; and then the voice, becoming tender again, continued: “My name is--” then he uttered another name, also composed entirely of vowels; it was the inversion of the other name, and the last vowel was pronounced with a long wail of agony.

At the first name, an awful terror seized me; at the second a feeling of infinite pity and attraction. The figure advanced towards me--it threw its arms around me and kissed me. A sensation of extreme pleasure penetrated every nerve of my body. Then the vision seemed to melt into a dream; I had certainly fallen asleep, but the voice spoke still. It told a long account of the entire history of the universe; how it was created by a malignant God, and how that he was the Redeemer, and how all that was beautiful on the earth was his work and if he had assistance from those whom he sought to benefit, all things would come again to their original fair order, and that he should come to his own inheritance again.

#count stenbock #faust #lightbearer #shaitan #of kings and things

The Idiot Club of London, who were dedicated to the “Suppression of Dignity and Wisdom”, photographed by Frederick Hollyer, ca. 1886.

#frederick hollyer #idiot club #count stenbock

‘Tis a soft bed, a feathery pillow, Oh, let me rest upon thy wave; Lull me to sleep upon thy billow, And let thy waters be my grave.”

S.E. Stenbock, excerpt from the poem Ode to the East Sea (Love, Sleep & Dreams, 1881)

#S.E. Stenbock #count stenbock #eric stenbock #poetry #romantic poetry #romanticism #writer #stanislaus eric stenbock

a black rosette of Count Eric Stenbock

Sebastian Blue Pin & living mannequin at large!

#eric stenbock #Count Stenbock #Current 93 #Ghost Story Press #GSP

Teach us to pray for the beloved dead, Since we are blind and know not what is best. The still small voice of Silence answering said, ‘Pray for rest.’ Oh, my lost love, and shall I therefore pray That thou may’st sleep through an eternal night? The still small voice of Silence answered, ‘Nay, Pray for light.’

Count Stanislaus Eric Stenbock, “Requiem,” The Shadow of Death (1893)

#poetry #requiem #count stenbock #stanislaus eric stenbock #eric stenbock #shadow of death #prayer #se stenbock #death

Count Stanislaus Eric Stenbock, Of Kings and Things: Strange Tales and Decadent Poems, ed. by David Tibet (London: Strange Attractor Press, 2018). Hardcover special edition, signed by David Tibet. https://www.ebay.com/itm/254537626729