title: Dreaming Thelema of Kenneth Grant and H. P. Lovecraft
author:  Oliver St. John 
description: The unique project features 17 paintings created specifically for inclusion in the book, using the Surrealist method of pure psychic automatism. The book, 172 pages in all, is printed on photographic paper, to preserve the integrity of the artwork. Also included are three complete short stories by Lovecraft: <i>Nyarlathotep</i>, <i>The Crawling Chaos</i>, and <i>The Haunter of the Dark</i>, plus a reconstruction of the Lovecraftian <i>Necronomicon</i> (culled from all quotations given by Lovecraft). The book's Introduction consists of a concise guide to Thelemic cosmology and the Qabalistic Art of Gematria. The Appendices contain a Qabalah of the <i>Necronomicon</i>, background information to the Lovecraft stories, and tables of Greek and Hebrew number values.<br /><br />This book is in some ways the companion volume to <i>Magical Art of Surreal Romanticism</i> (which preceded it) but is a larger and more ambitious work. It is very different from all other books I have created to date. It is best viewed as an advanced treatise on Grant's Typhonian Gnosis in relation to the work of HP Lovecraft. Though it was not intended to be instructional (in the sense of a "how to" book), it nonetheless provides many examples of how Qabalistic Gematria may be used to plumb the depths of consciousness.
zlib_text: 
  
  
  H. P. LOVECRAFT
  
  
  COLLECTION
  
  
  
  
  
  CELEPHAIS
  
  
  In a dream Kuranes saw the city in the valley, and the seacoast beyond, and
  the snowy peak overlooking the sea, and the gaily painted galleys that sail
  out of the harbour toward distant regions where the sea meets the sky. In a
  dream it was also that he came by his name of Kuranes, for when awake he was
  called by another name.
  
  
  
  
  
  Perhaps it was natural for him to dream a new name; for he was the last of his
  family, and alone among the indifferent millions of London, so there were not
  many to speak to him and to remind him who he had been. His money and lands
  were gone, and he did not care for the ways of the people about him, but
  preferred to dream and write of his dreams. What he wrote was laughed at by
  those to whom he showed it, so that after a time he kept his writings to
  himself, and finally ceased to write.
  
  
  
  
  
  The more he withdrew from the world about him, the more wonderful became his
  dreams; and it would have been quite futil