The eighteenth century in Europe saw a burgeoning fascination with the occult, a mystique born from a rich blend of Renaissance magic, medieval mysticism, and the inquisitive spirit of the Enlightenment. Among the most notorious grimoires of this era was The Lesser Key of Solomon, or Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis. This enigmatic text, a compilation of earlier magical manuscripts attributed to King Solomon himself, was believed to hold arcane secrets for summoning spirits, commanding demons, and unlocking divine wisdom. Though its roots trace back to the seventeenth century — and even further to writings from two centuries prior — its influence endured well into the 1700s, captivating secret societies and individual scholars eager to explore the realm of forbidden knowledge.
 |
| The Secret Seal of Solomon |
The Lesser Key of Solomon is composed of five distinct books: Ars Goetia, Ars Theurgia-Goetia, Ars Paulina, Ars Almadel, and Ars Notoria. Each explores different facets of spiritual and supernatural interaction, weaving together strands of medieval demonology, Renaissance angelology, and astrological doctrine, elements that continued to captivate 18th-century esoteric practitioners.
The most renowned section, the Ars Goetia, catalogues seventy-two demons, detailing their ranks, powers, and the precise rituals required to summon and command them. From mighty kings to lesser spirits, these entities were believed capable of bestowing knowledge, wealth, or other supernatural boons ... provided they were properly invoked and bound. Though Goetic magic was condemned by religious authorities, it survived in secret, with some scholars maintaining that such spirits could be harnessed for purposes both benevolent and malevolent.
 |
| The 72 Demon Sigils |
The Ars Theurgia-Goetia addresses a different category of spirits, often seen as more neutral than those catalogued in the Ars Goetia. These spirits were believed to inhabit the elements and could be summoned to offer guidance and aid. Eighteenth-century demonologists such as Antoine Augustin Calmet (1672-1757) debated their precise nature, with many considering them intermediaries bridging the realms of angels and demons.
Named after the Apostle Paul, the Ars Paulina organizes spiritual beings according to planetary hours and the zodiac. The first section details angels governing various hours of the day, while the second describes zodiacal angels linked to specific astrological influences. Given astrology’s central role in eighteenth-century mysticism, this portion provided practitioners with a structured framework for invoking celestial forces.
The Ars Almadel instructs magicians in the creation of the “Almadel,” a wax tablet used to communicate with angels from the four cardinal directions. These angels were believed to bestow divine wisdom and guidance, rendering this section more closely aligned with religious mysticism than with the demonic arts.
Finally, the Ars Notoria departs from spirit summoning, focusing instead on prayers, meditations, and sacred orations designed to enhance memory, wisdom, and eloquence. In the eighteenth century, this book was especially esteemed by those who sought intellectual enlightenment without venturing into perilous occult practices.
Because of the secretive nature of occult studies and the stigma attached to demonology, direct citations from these scholars are scarce. Nevertheless, it is widely believed that The Lesser Key of Solomon was either referenced by or at least known to prominent eighteenth-century figures such as Emmanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772), Alessandro di Cagliostro (1743-1795), Ebenezer Sibly (1751-1799), Martinez de Pasqually (1727-1774), and Francis Barrett (1774-unknown).
Francis Barrett was my first occultist inspiration for my sophomore novel THE SHADOW KEY, an idea I’d nurtured since 2006. While Barrett himself did not ultimately appear in the novel, his seminal occult work The Magus (London, 1801), along with his references to The Lesser Key of Solomon, were crucial in shaping the occult elements of my story. This led me to create an eighteenth-century scholar of my own, Julian Tresilian, who owns a copy of The Lesser Key of Solomon among his extensive library. Though THE SHADOW KEY is, of course, fiction, collectors like Julian often kept the Solomonic grimoire close at hand. Despite its reputation as a dangerous book of black magic—or as a misunderstood spiritual text—its influence endured throughout the eighteenth century and beyond. Even today, this grimoire continues to inspire literature, art, and popular culture. In the 1700s, as now, the quest for hidden knowledge — whether divine or demonic — remained a powerful force in human history.
No comments:
Post a Comment