Crowley writes superbly, a surprising conclusion to make about one who was once called “the wickedest man in the world.” His descriptions come at you from an unexpected angle and one is forced to pause, to slow down at the sheer uniqueness of what is being said. A cursory reading will miss his subtlety and, while not deserving of a slow reading per se, we should call it 'slower than normal' reading. Then, we would approach the book properly.

There is a sensuality to the language which is decadent in same way that the music of the Grateful Dead somehow brings to mind the idea of overripe fruit. I have to wonder, however, if I am being slowly corrupted by this book. Crowley writes like a man whose familiar associations arrive from a dimension different from ours. About such folk, we might have once said ". . . not quite right" which only means they don't fit our particular social paradigm. The 21st century reader struggles to accommodate Crowley's phrases and metaphors, whose effect is to gently push one out of a comfortable reality . . . especially since the subject matter is the overuse of cocaine and heroin. If there is an agenda here, it may be precisely to accomplish that gentle push.

The story of Peter Pendragon and his lover Lou Laleham unfolds in three parts, Paradiso, Inferno, and Purgatorio, a take off on Dante's tour of the afterlife. The couple travel through Europe on stipends from Peter's inheritance, gradually succumbing to the enflaming passions created by a heroin and cocaine addiction. As the addiction becomes more pronounced and the propensity for self-knowledge rises, the perspective turns increasingly wild and, for this reason, spiritual. It is an unaccustomed spirituality: that of the liberated mind, the insane mind, a mind that no longer turns automatically from questionable things. There is a coming-to-terms period in the second section of the book, called Inferno, which touches on these mad things. The perspective is utterly fascinating – a good exposure to things beyond the ken of most of us.

Having said that, this reader felt a kinship with that narrator's internal monologue. These voicings ring similar to what form spontaneously on the basis of immediate experience. In some cases, they may be felt only briefly before cultural cues have had their chance to redirect them into more acceptable cliches. We all live inside the gated communities of our expectations. Those gates and walls are quite invisible to ordinary perception. It is from within these walls we knowingly pass judgement on the world "out there. "What is good? and what is bad?” Typically we are supplied with the answers by culture, along with a corresponding judgment. Such judgments. . . in fact, all judgments. . . are (as a bottom line) based on the need to have a reliable handle on the world. They vital to the survival of that squirming little creature we call 'self.'

A strange book, possibly a 'gateway' book (to further questionable activities), and a worthwhile reading experience. You're a reader. Have some courage. ( )

I purchased this book from a used book sale at the local library. All opinions are my own. 🌟 Diary of A Drug Fiend and other works by Aleister Crowley. Have you read this book? Let me just say do not waste your time it is 6 different book smushed into one hardback. Every story are characters who are trying to leave their earthly being by drug use to be a better being. Crowley even created a group of disciples called The Abbey of Thelema that believed in his ways. The Abbey of Thelema eventually became Thelema in which Crowley would exercise his authority and convince others that being high would make you a supreme being of some sort. It's 900+ pages of jibberish. The most interesting part of the book is the introduction when they explain who Aleister Crowley is and you get to learn that many bands used references of him in their songs and Jimmy Page was so obsessed with him that he purchased his old home and all the first editions of his book. Use it for lining in your hamster, gerbil, or rabbit cage but honestly I would be scared the rubbish in these pages might make them irritable as well. Review also posted on Instagram @borenbooks, Library Thing, Go Read, Goodreads/StacieBoren, Amazon, Twitter @jason_stacie and my blog at readsbystacie.com ( )

One evening, one of those weeks that seemed to be a perpetual cold evening, this book found its way to my hands from my bookshelf and I read the first chapter on the spot, despite the several other books I had going – and not to mention the ongoing projects that were calling me faintly back to the work desk. Sometimes books know when they should be read, though, and "Diary of a Drug Fiend" was precisely what I needed, and read a snippet after lunch every day – a mad story as one could expect, with its share of crowleyian humour... and not without the odd side flavour, such as when the Abbey at "Telepylus" is mentioned and one remembers how brief its existence was, or indeed the author's life-long love story with the great "H." Where's the Big Lion, where's the don Juan... He isn't, so that you and I can be.

A thought-provoking story, not quite as literally a true s
tory as the author implies in opening remark (although based on his drug experiences), but more importantly true on a universal rather than particular plane, and one to remind about the walls we build around ourselves and that it, of course, is up to ourselves to tear up a hole and find what we hid from!

This is one of the few books that I would not encourage people to read. While I am not a big fan of the occult, and tend to stay as far away from it as possible, it is not the occult connections that concern me but rather the conclusion that Crowley reaches with regards to drugs. In any case this book is not strictly one of Crowley's occultic writings but the content can be quite dangerous nonetheless.
The book is about a man who on a night out meets a lady and is then introduced to cocaine. In a single wild night they get married and run off on the honeymoon and while on their honeymoon on the continent are introduced to heroin. While on their honeymoon their drug experience is, for want of a better word, an experience. However it all turns sour when they land up in prison in Naples and are then sent back to England.
This is where the second part of the book begins, and that is when the honeymoon is over, and this occurs on two levels: the first being the romantic honeymoon, and the second being the drug honeymoon. The wild time they experienced on the continent settles down into a hard slog where addiction takes hold. The main character is not poor (he is a doctor), but once he had tried the sweet taste of heroin he simply cannot get enough. They move out of the luxurious suite and into a bug ridden apartment and go about trying to find their next hit. Even when they do get it, it is nowhere near as good as it was on the honeymoon.
It is the third section of the book that is of the most concern to me. While the first two sections are quite realistic in exploring the life of a drug addict, and the destruction that this life causes, the third section is not about how they overcome their addiction, clean up, and go on to live fruitful lives, but rather how through sheer will they learn to control the drug and then use the drug as it is supposed to be used. This is something (and many a drug councillor will confirm this) that I simply cannot accepts, namely that one can never control a drug, especially if one is prone to addictions. There are people out there that can control their drug taking, but one can never assume that they are one of those people.
I suspect that this book is designed as a gateway for people looking into Crowley's religion (and Crowley does appear in this book, though not by name), and I suspect that it is written with the drug addicts of the time in mind. These days, 90 years down the track, we simply seem to envision that the drug lifestyle is something that evolved in the 60's. This is simply not true: drugs have been used and abused for over a hundred years (and more if one includes alcohol). In fact, in the 19th Century, one could go into a chemist and purchase a bottle of cocaine to help put one's baby to sleep. Drugs were first made illegal around the 20's (though Opium had been illegal for much longer, which is why it is said that the British were selling things in China that was illegal to sell in England).
Anyway, to finish off, I wouldn't bother reading this book, it simply is not helpful in the slightest. ( )

The Great Beast Aleister Crowley just had to do it, write a book of fiction; with a title as sensationalized as a Randolphe Hearst era inspired newspaper article. The title is offensive and to the point, but by todays standards completely misrepresents and runs contadictory to what the author is saying throughout the novel. Crowley seems to even predate the rise of sensationalized yellow journalism....amazing! A traditionally written story arc of a wealthy couple of royal heritage from London, England who decide to travel and experience life through the filter of decadent intoxication thereby finding themselves in all the trappings we have all come to understand through are own experiences, either first hand or through the channels of multi media. The book becomes interesting, however, when Crowley begins to impliment his personal occult works into the character muse, the Big Lion; Who is one of the major characters throughout the novel, albeit, shaded with different personality traits from chapter to chapter. Nonetheless, the Priest; and Crowley's fictionally projected, empathicized creation.
Great Romance Novel! ( )