This is a straight, narrative biography of a strange character: Goodwin Wharton. The author, J. Kent Clark, offers very little background and absolutely no analysis. If you know a bit about the occult/magickal arts and late Stuart Britain, as I do, it is very interesting.

Goodwin Wharton, younger son of a popular lord, believes in fairies and magick and communication with angels, despite his Puritan-leaning upbringing. Wharton kept a detailed history and journal of his life from the 1683 to 1704, focusing on his attempts to use the occult to get rich and score women. He hooked onto a common woman named Mary Parish who claimed she was magical savant and could communicate with angels.

Parish was the greatest conwoman of her time; Wharton was the greatest dupe of his time. The angels, through her, promised her thing after thing which never came true. She promised him entrance to the fairy kingdom (the Lowlands) which never came to pass. Week-after-week, year-after-year new excuses kept that from happening. She promised him buried treasures. Week-after-week, year-after-year new excuses kept that from happening. She promised him magical amulets that could make him win at card or be invisible. Week-after-week, year-after-year new excuses kept that from happening. She even, it is apparent, impersonated spirits and he bought it and, most shockingly of all, impersonated God and he bought it. Even when God's promises failed again and again, sometimes quite spectacularly failed (e.g., pp. 270-271, God promised Mons would not fall in a siege days after it fell in a siege). Parish made God un-omniscient and un-omnipotent and Goodwin bought it.

It is, time and again, mind-numbing, exasperating, shocking, and angering. To see this guy with some obvious brains fall for the dumbest excuses ever. Like, angels and spirits are filling up trunks of gold for you... but you can't open them till I, I mean the spirits, tell you... and she, I mean the spirits, never tells him.

It's an interesting insight into the times and and interesting, almost historical novel of a story.

It's a pretty good oddity. ( )