Dion Fortune: A Character Sketch
What kind of person, then, was Dion Fortune? To imagine her as she saw herself, or as others saw her. Was she a person of integrity? How much weight can we place on her sincerity? These are not questions we would naturally ask of a scholar, mathematician, philosopher, inventor, or even an artist, although we might well do so in the case of a psychologist, who is supposed to be of much more direct and, hopefully, beneficial influence upon our own behaviour and character. Even more so in the case of one whose influence might be considered covert, yet more powerful ‑ that of a magician! Personality and character traits are especially significant in the case of one following the path of a discipline whose key concept is self‑mastery; indeed it was Fortune's own advice that prospective students should judge the worth of an organisation not by its glossy brochures and brave words, but by virtue of its human output in everyday life. Sound advice indeed!
She was not an orphan, as some say. She was brought up as a child in a Christian Science household. Was it this, perhaps, that led to her parents' tendency to stress her superiority over her classmates, leaving her with few friends, and causing her to develop something of a propensity towards snobbishness, a characteristic that led her to take better comfort in the company of horses and ponies? This, coupled with a withdrawn life of reading and no doubt a large measure of daydreaming, may well have led to the development of latent mediumistic powers, which in the end became sufficiently visible as to alarm both her parents and also her neighbours! In reflective mood, she composed poetry. Her poem 'Violets' composed when she was just 13 is lightweight but unlike most (even adult) attempted poetry today, keeps metre and rhyme almost perfectly. One feels that she could well have developed into an accomplished poet had she so minded. Extended contact with adults rather than with children of her own age could well have made her a difficult child, but also of course, sharpened the edge of her self‑confidence.
That she was strong‑minded while still a young woman is amply borne out by incidents at college ‑ her strong sense of fair play led her to boldly advise a fellow student to defect rather than continue awkwardly under the circumstances of a suspected swindle. And paradoxically, it was her later confrontation with the Warden and undergoing a harrowing psychological barrage from her strong enough to precipitate a lengthy and incapacitating breakdown, that might well have been the essential transformational crisis which firmly oriented her in the direction of her subsequent psychotherapeutic, then magical, career.
Physically slim and attractive in her teens, she filled out later in life, but retained her strength of mind, having the demeanour of one who perhaps nowadays might be associated with the feminist cause, which in a sense, she was anyway.
Evelyn
Hadfield, a fellow student of Fortune's at
One of the students under Fortune's much appreciated tutelage in of the Fraternity of the Inner Light during the years 1930 to 1946 was Helah Fox who knew Fortune well. She had vivid memories of her lecturing unhesitatingly and without notes, standing completely still with a remarkable, sometimes military, presence, all in stark contrast to her much more relaxed behaviour when staying at her other centre in Glastonbury. Bernard Bromage attests to her superb and unflagging self‑confidence, and unflappability. But in Glastonbury, she would delegate all her duties, let her hair down, and behave in very buoyant mood, seeming to precipitate all sorts of weird and unaccountable incidents about herself when others were about. Yet there were other times too, when she let her depth of feeling show. She almost wept when someone read out for them a moving letter from a serving Officer on the front.
Fortune's marriage was not particularly happy - like most marriages, going through phases. Mr Penry‑Evans did not appear easy to get on with, and Fortune shed no tears at their parting, although some say that her magical work was at its peak during the time of their marriage.
Of those who knew her personally, the journalist Bernard Bromage was one of the closest. He had met Dion Fortune in 1936 when she was 46 years old and at the height of her magical career and incidentally attending Bromage's London University Extension Course lectures on Literature and the Occult. He considered her essay work to be of excellent quality ‑ indeed, she was his 'star pupil', and he was keen to read all her published material as soon as it became available. He especially remarked upon her unique insights and innovative approach ‑ signs of genius, or perhaps 'lateral thinking' in today's terms ‑ and yet despite her early professional experience in depth psychology, perhaps only dimly remembered by then, he noted a certain tendency to recklessness in her use of psychological terms.
Her dress in those years reminded Bromage of the figure advertising Sandeman's Port flowing crimson cloak and large wide‑brimmed black hat, reminding him of the Sea Priestess of her then current novel, although elsewhere he says that Maiya Trenchell‑Hayes was the model for this. Perhaps it was not too strange that she seemed to feel that this attire somehow made Fortune invisible.
Yet her personality was more forgiving than her demeanour suggested; Bromage delighted in her still active humour - she termed his University Extension Class a 'coven' ‑ and their discussions eventually led to him setting up a lecture programme at 3, Queensborough Terrace, which regularly attracted intelligent audiences, including the Director of the Science Museum, and where he engaged some well‑known literary and artistic personalities to take the chair. One special occasion for Bromage was when Fortune invited him as a guest into one of her Lodge rooms to see her perform in a so‑called Rite of Isis (she agreed with Bromage afterwards that it was more Greek than Egyptian!). Although untrained in occultism, Bromage was deeply moved by, the ritual, or 'pantomime' as he called it, recognising in it, perhaps for the first time, something of the power of mythical drama to stir the unconscious.
Indeed, Bromage felt at this and on most occasions, that her self‑taught ability to handle her body and emotions with such great economy, and her calm self‑assurance and authority were such as to fit her well for a ministry of healing; he was well aware of the healings of some most difficult cases that she and her husband Dr Penry‑Evans had effected together. Healing does not seem to be a major part of the Society's activities nowadays. Perhaps it needs people of charisma.
Others report that in her dealings with human nature, she may have been a little naive – not being able to foresee, for example, the possibility that there might be friction between the conflicting Interests of the three sub‑sections of her Fraternity almost an inevitability in any organisation. Then there was the matter of her fear during the war of racial contamination, which Hutton designates as a 'personality quirk'. Hutton is further critical of her inflexible stand on sex, race, and hierarchy, all of which matters have certainly taken on a different complexion half a century on.
It rests with Bromage to sum her up more favourably as 'one of the most interesting personalities of the century' particularly with regard to her 'dynamic curiosity in 'occult matters' (Bromage 1960).
W.E.
Butler, a student of Dion Fortune's from 1925 ‑1946, and a member of the
Society of the Inner Light until 1978, broadly confirms Bromage's recollections
of her. He recalls how meticulously she supervised the production of each and
every page of her Inner Light Magazine; indeed, she earned the nickname 'Fluff'
on account of the rigour she displayed on inspecting the surfaces round the
room after they had been cleaned! But
It is
interesting to speculate on her relationship with Aleister Crowley, her magical
contemporary. Whether they worked magic together is doubtful; they were
certainly an influence upon each other, and over time they are said to have exchanged
a fair number of letters. The one or two that survive seem to suggest that
their relationship was not uncongenial. In one dated 8th January
1942, she addresses him ‘playfully’ as ‘666’, gives due credit to his superior
intellect, discrediting her own in the process, and wishes him all due success
in his Tarot work. In June 1944 she sent him a copy of her Sea Priestess. In a letter to him dated 14th March 1945
she complains about the negative comments she had received from readers of her Mystical Qabalah concerning the number
of appreciative references she makes to Crowley’s scholarship in that book. It
is unfortunate that
There was
an exchange of letters with Israel Regardie during the 1930’s; the
correspondence which survives roughly charts their relationship. She speaks of
reviewing his books (which she says she valued above anything written by
Nov 14th1932: “... I suppose you know you have given away the old 'Golden Dawn' system, lock, stock. and barrel? It is by guarded by oaths with the most penalties I trust you have not been slain by invisible forces!” She appears to take the matter somewhat flippantly.
And Nov 16th 1932, after their meeting with great warmth: “I am so glad you liked us, because we liked you! it is a great pleasure to meet someone to whom I can talk 'on the level”. The 'us' in this case were Fortune and her husband, whom Regardie’s considered henpecked!
Later
correspondence and articles by, Regardie reveal some disagreement over matters
of fundamental importance, specifically, the existence of the Masters, which,
as a psychologist, Regardie would on no account accept. He became disenchanted
with the Bristol Lodge of the Golden Dawn of which he was a member for two
years for much the same reasons that Fortune had been unhappy with the Alpha
& Omega Lodge ‑ i.e. that the officers did not understand what they
were about; and he hoped that Fortune would publicise his somewhat caustic
views in the Inner Light Review. Despite, or perhaps because of their firm
friendship, Fortune was courageous enough to stand her ground and refuse his
article, offering the sound advice “I
should be wary if I were you.”
Fortune in 1934 was described by Ithell Colquhoun as a big woman, simply and conventionally dressed, with faded blond hair, and reminding one of a schoolmistress or matron of a nursing home. She was vigorous and well‑spoken, and projected a sturdy, common‑sense approach to her subject. Her eyes were deep blue and glistening, somewhat hypnotic, which faculty (Colquhoun perhaps mischievously comments), “Could be used to extract donations from her disciples ‑ for the benefit of the fraternity, of course.”
Kenneth Grant's memories of Fortune are few, he having met her only fleetingly towards the end of her life in 1945. She was in her final illness, yet still strikingly and unconventionally dressed, and keen to discuss with Aleister Crowley, in whose house they met, new plans for reviving more pagan attitudes. Yet in the same year, Colin Wilson recounts that Mrs Bendit, the wife of Dr Lawrence Bendit, whose sessions of Jungian analysis Dion Fortune was (anonymously) attending, commented on her as a “burnt‑out shell”. Perhaps she was nearing her end.
Later, when Bromage met her for one last time to discuss her ambitious plans for some sort of federation of occultists, he felt that she had matured. He reported, contrary to Grant, that she was dressed more conventionally in black satin, and appeared less secluded, and in touch with a greater circle of people of like mind.
These, then are the sometimes conflicting opinions of those who knew her when she was alive. Secondary sources are based mostly upon hearsay, and what researchers believe they can detect in her novels and other publications; interestingly, most are positive.
Colin
Wilson was one of the first to write of Dion Fortune at second hand. He
contrasts her with Aleister Crowley, mistakenly described as 'her master' ‑
he was never that, although he had pretensions of being so ‑ the one,
Fortune, self‑possessed, sober; the other,
Ithell
Colquhoun's account speaks of Charles Loveday as Fortune's 'boyfriend', a term
much open to varied interpretation these days. There is no doubt that he worked
well beyond the call of duty for the Fraternity ‑ it was he who purchased
and personally refurbished the ex army huts erected at
In an attempt to gain some feeling for the environment in which Fortune worked, Colquhoun visited Chalice Orchard during the 1950's, some four years after Fortune's death, and found it a pleasant enough site, but the buildings seemed too small for comfortable ritual work, cluttered with lumber, and contaminated by pets. She similarly describes 3, Queensborough Terrace as having a dank, chilly, and stuffy atmosphere. Does one detect a hint of bitterness in these descriptions?
It has been said that Fortune maintained several deep and lasting friendships, set an example of 'super‑achievement, self‑sacrifice, and personal integrity', displayed excellent organisational ability, and exerted a rare talent for inspiring and motivating others.
How, after all, do we sum up Dion Fortune as a person? In a way similar, perhaps, to her pupil W.E.Butler a 'friendly unassuming individual who knew more about the art of magic than the rest of us might hope to learn in half a dozen lifetimes'. Certainly a figure of fundamental importance in the Western magical tradition, who did not merely rely on previous sources or suspect traditional texts, but going back to first principles, was bold enough to strike out on her own to create an eminently workable system. And what happened to Violet ‑ how fir did she identify with her role as a magician to the detriment of her role as a woman? The adoption of a magical name (albeit based on her family motto Deo, non Fortuna ‑ By God, not by chance), for everyday purposes as well as use in her magical role, might be seen as a somewhat questionable course of action nowadays as indicating in some sense an abrogation of her earthly day‑to‑day personality. Nevertheless, 'Dion Fortune' was how she signed her letters, and how she is known to us to this day.
More than all this, her character shines through in her own writing ‑ the tenacity of purpose in her War Letters, the obvious sincerity and straightforwardness in advising her readers of all the opportunities and all the pitfalls of magical training. Indeed, what shows through her own writing is more than can be dealt with here, and is its own vindication of her strength of character. Perhaps another time.
Did she then perhaps see herself as the magical shakti of the New Aeon? Or, as the renowned occultist and surrealist Austin Osman Spare acknowledged, as 'one of us!' She certainly lived up to Bromage's assessment of a person was a 'symbol of something new in the way of integration, struggling to break out of the clutches of an materialism into a realm in which spirit can interpenetrate matter to a fresh issue.’ As we would say today, a pioneer heading the contemporary paradigm shift that is slowly but inevitably beginning to re‑include esoteric elements in society that have been deliberately excluded for three hundred years, displacing the one‑sided materialist outlook of the so‑called Enlightenment, and setting the scene for a new Renaissance.
9th October 2003
Works consulted:
Bancroft, Anne Twentieth Century
Mystics
Bromage Bernard 'Dion Fortune' in Light Vol 80, Spring 1960
Chapman, Janine Quest for Dion Fortune.
Colquhoun Ithell Sword of Wisdom
Fielding, Charles, and Collins, Carr The Story of Dion Fortune. Loughborough, Thoth Publications, 1998
Hutton Ronald The Triumph of the Moon.
Knight, Gareth Dion Fortune and the Inner Light. Loughborough, Thoth Publications, 2000
Nelson,
Ophiel The Art and Practice of Caballa Magic. New York, Samuel Weiser Inc., 1976
Richardson, Alan and Hughes, Geoff Ancient
Magicks for a New Age.
Verter,
Wilson, Colin The Occult.
Wilson, Colin (Ed) The Giant Book of
the Supernatural,