Those places where the link between man and Earth was felt the strongest were venerated as sacred: inviolable superimpositions of the spirit world upon the mortal Earth. The Celts, like so many tribal peoples the world over, worshiped the Earth and felt their beings inseparably linked to its sentient spirit. The interaccommodating latticework of Celtic art expresses the form and flow of the soul as it was perceived by Northern European peoples, not only within themselves but throughout the land they inhabited. In ancient Celtic legend, the great giant Gargantua was slain by the gods and his body became the flesh of the Earth, his blood the rivers and seas, and his soul the anima loci, the soul of a place. To that end, The Book of Lilith contains myths, legends, poems and stories from various cultures and epochs reflecting the demon’s many facets, as well as Koltuv’s psychoanalytic commentary and examples from her files. Clinical psychologist and Jungian analyst Barbara Black Koltuv maintains that these are the very aspects of Lilith’s personality with which modern women must reconcile if they are to attain spiritual wholeness. In addition to her negative attributes, Lilith also represents the powerful natures of feminine sexuality and self-knowledge. Some tales go so far as to suggest that it was Lilith, not the snake, who whispered temptation into Eve’s ear and caused the first human beings to be cast out of Eden. She is the first wife of Adam, often shown by medieval artists as a woman-faced serpent, cagily watching Eve devour the fruit of knowledge. According to the Kabbalists, the letters of her name equal the word screech, and so she is also known as the demon of screeching. In various mythologies she is the embodiment of feminine evil a succubus mounting men in their sleep, a killer of children. Lilith is the long-haired female demon of the night. The only really enduring magick in this book is the power to frighten suburban moms when their teenage sons start reading it while listening to heavy-metal music. There are circles, sigils and lots of silly information galore-just the type of stuff an adolescent might want to draw on the cover of his notebook. Although there are some sections outlining black-magick rituals, Waite covers all sorts of other material too, giving a sort of patchwork-quilt look at the influence of heterodox mystic traditions in the West. This was one of the first books Aleister Crowley read, and it inspired him to further his studies in that arena. Many people are first introduced to the occult by determinedly plodding through Waite’s books. Despite Waite’s pedantic, pretentious and weighty prose style, this book is noteworthy as part of the 19th-century occult revival.
Since the initial publication of this work, many more books on ceremonial magick have been published, including such historical grimoires as The Key of Solomon the King.
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