The greatest epoch of middlebrow British fiction, the power of prayer, the Shade of Hazel, Kilimanjaro and Koine, Cambridge Platonism, American poets, voices of the gods, pesky devils...
The incidents you refer to that took place in the 1970s are something that directly affected me, given how frequently I stayed there. I was very nearly set alight, in fact, more than once. Since then, I've had a few other such encounters (a few of which I fictionalized in "Patapsco Spirits"). There is no doubt in my mind, at any rate, of the reality of such entities.
I didn't see one, unfortunately. I'll email the Press. I actually prefer real books, but I don't have much room left in my small abode, and my Kindle Paperwhite is so darn convenient.
I’ve only ever had a few moments where I felt something unseen was a round and even less actually seeing them (grandfather face in the window or a passed cat). But around where I live in Long Island many of the old mansions have been turned into museums almost every single one of them(or atleast every other, guess I just cut that in half) have ghost story’s floating around them.
Then again—what would the effective difference be between some creature that inhabits the psychic wastes of the imaginal realm as it gathers like turbid shadow around the unconscious of a living soul, conjured by emotions unnameable to children and to the deeply repressed and feeding on their preternatural energies, manifesting in phenomena physical and parapsychological—and a demon?
I'd like to ask a question. I talked to David Armstrong about this recently and I guess I shouldn't be so surprised since, on one hand, this sort of thing is as old as time, but I was actually scandalized by some recent events. One is Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev's fall from grace. I bore much fruit from his works and it turns out he's just another lurid, depraved and hypocritical hierarch chases after lust and riches. I was much more shocked to see Elpidophoros bend the knee to Trump and have the temerity to say that he embodies the virtues of the Gospel and the Christian faith. Just wanted to know if you had any specific thoughts on either of these two episodes.
Alfeyev had already revealed himself to be a villain by becoming Kirill's propaganda chief; that he turned out also to be so corrupt and larcenous is hardly a surprise. All very disappointing, given his decent book on the harrowing of hell from several years ago. Then again, his liturgical compositions are frighteningly banal, and I agree with Hannah Arendt on the banality of evil. As for Elpidophoros, a few years ago he seemed like a good man with a sharp mind, but he clearly wants to be the next Oecumenical Patriarch, and that always requires the favor of the American administration, for geopolitical reasons not worth going into here. He has disgraced his office, but a lot of Greek Orthodox in this country have already allowed themselves to be branded with the mark of the beast.
I am sorry. I am not Orthodox, but I can imagine the disappointment. My rule is anyone who supports Trump is suspect: either they agree with what he does/says or they can't be bothered to educate themselves enough to care.
I totally agree. It's just strange that Elpidophoros was marching with BLM and now supports Trump. I guess he goes where the wind blows to gain favor with the powerful, whether that's left or right is no matter. And I am dealing with that myself. Most of my family voted for Trump and I thought seriously about not talking to them or visiting them until they repented. I did let them have it for a bit, but I've since backed off of that, but I'm still torn. IDK, these are trying times.
Yes, very. I am sorry you are going through that with your family.
I live thousands of miles away from my brother now, so it doesn't affect my daily life. Still, he's a kind person, so his support for Trump doesn't make sense to me.
Honestly, I think I might understand what you mean re: Dickinson. As a teen I earnestly read some of the much-anthologised poems and when I found them queer allowed myself to be charmed and chalked it up to the ethereal genius which is insisted upon to account for them-- (telegram posts from another world. Stop.)
Many years later I picked up a Penguin Mini of her poems thinking I'd be in for a treat. I hadn't read or thought about her at all in between times. I was, and not to put too fine a point on it, a little embarrassed. They seemed frivolous and gauche. And the dash-punctuation 'scheme' (if you can call it that) seemed to serve only to desiccate the sense and trip the reader up with not enough in between to justify them. One thing you can't deny her, though, is her yield. She produced a lot of those ideograms.
I can forgive yr view of Whitman, though I want to buttonhole you & recite “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” until you relent, but what you say about Dickinson shocks me. “No man saw awe,” “Through what transports of patience,” “The tint I cannot take,” “There’s a certain Slant of Light,” & two dozen others off the top of my head are certainly the equal of the best of Keats & Hopkins, both of whom she resembles in occult ways. For shame, sir.
I will just relegate her to the category of black metal, which it is impossible for you to hear properly. Although it's Whitman who calls grass "the beautiful uncut hair of graves."
Speaking of black metal, I realized you'd told me that story about the spirits. Now I would ask what it was that you saw on Mt. Athos that convinced you of the reality of spiritual warfare, as you remarked somewhere.
I second Michael's question about your experience on Mt. Athos that you have alluded to cryptically in the past. I am, of course, unashamedly taking advantage of your confessional mood, so for that I ask you to forgive me, but I have always wondered about that since you first mentioned it. If you're so inclined, that'd be wonderful.
It would seem you diverge with Harold Bloom on Walt Whitman. Free verse can sound rhythm and toneless, but Whitman still gives me shivers, especially with this stanza from “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d”:
In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle—and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
The refrain in this stanza is quite lovely. And occasionally I will say to myself, “with every leaf a miracle.” Just a simple reminder of the awe inspiring mystery of creation.
There is something uniquely encouraging about a writer we admire affiliating himself with a cause we champion. I felt this way when I learned about your universalism and your DSA membership, but I feel twice as vindicated learning of your affection for the Troughton Doctor.
A few thoughts in response to your story about malevolent spirits...
“(And, anyway, one doesn’t want to be likened in any way to the revolting Tucker Carlson, who apparently recently claimed to have been assaulted in his bed by a demon. No doubt, if he wasn’t simply lying, he was merely being attacked by his own conscience, to the degree that such a thing exists. If it was a demon, however, I suspect that it was prompted by envy at how much more evil Carlson is than even the most enterprising devil ever could be.)”
My sister, who shares my political views, works as a flight attendant and once had the misfortune of having Carlson in first class on one of her flights. I half-joked that she should’ve slipped some cyanide into his drink. As for his supposed demonic afflictions, I’ve heard he lets his dog sleep in his bed. While I’m more open than most to non-naturalistic explanations, I suspect the pooch is a likelier culprit for the scratches than Beelzebub.
“Then too, I do not want to seem like a lunatic or a fool, much less someone who tells tall tales in order to excite interest from the credulous;” and “So there. I hope I don’t sound like an imbecile.”
Certainly not! Though I must admit, the latter line made me sad. It's unfortunate that we still live in the shadow of modernity’s impulse to pathologize all spiritual or supernatural experience. The resulting taboo, in my view, remains the greatest barrier to discussing these phenomena in a serious, open-minded, and intellectually honest way.
“The mother was gone and under institutional care, dealing with severe psychological issues that had included, it turned out, some serious dabbling in the diabolistic occult.”
I have an intellectual interest in ceremonial magic, both historical and contemporary. I once listened to a podcast featuring a prominent practitioner who observed that people often reach out after rituals go awry—something is summoned but not properly dismissed, resulting in persistent poltergeist activity, or worse. Something of that sort could very well lie at the root of the disturbances you describe.
Incidentally, Richard Kieckhefer—the foremost living historian of medieval magic (only Lynn Thorndike, were he still with us, might give him a run for his money)—believes that such rituals can be effective, though he remains agnostic about the mechanism by which they operate. He told me he intentionally left parts of the spells in "Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer’s Manual of the Fifteenth Century" untranslated for precisely that reason. Probably for the best. The book has developed a certain popularity in prisons, and he once received a letter from an inmate lamenting that the rituals had failed to produce results...
“I do not have much interest in such topics, and would rather believe that such things do not exist, but there were simply too many episodes to explain away, at least according to my poor lights.”
This is where we part ways. I am deeply fascinated by such topics. That said, you are hardly alone among intellectuals in having had some form of contact with what seemed like a malevolent force. One very prominent historian once confided in me about a time when his home was haunted by what he quite reasonably believed to be a demonic presence: foul odors, hazy apparitions, and an entire roomful of children’s toys switching on at once in the dead of night.
Then there’s the case of Dr. Jeffrey Lieberman—formerly the Lawrence C. Kolb Professor and Chair of Psychiatry at Columbia, Director of the New York State Psychiatric Institute, and Psychiatrist-in-Chief at Columbia University Medical Center. Before his fall from grace due to ill-advised remarks on Twitter, he had a sterling reputation. His own account is worth reading for those curious: https://www.ncregister.com/blog/agnostic-director-of-the-exorcist-witnesses-a-real-life-case-of-possession
Unfortunately, only a few of the major Cambridge Platonists’ works are available in-print as contemporary editions with modernized spelling. I once asked a prominent scholar of 17th century philosophy if he thought that any major academic press would be interested in brining out a complete, modernized edition of Ralph Cudworth’s *True Intellectual System of the Universe*. His response was, “Sadly, no.”
What a bounty! Many thanks for this, Dr. Hart! Great questions all around.
If you're open to a few more, I’d be grateful to add to the conversation:
1. Might there be any chance you’ll one day publish a collection of Great Uncle Aloysius’s poetry?
2 I was struck by Salley Vickers’s remarks in the recent documentary about your life, where she noted you're one of the very few modern Christian thinkers who believes in fairies and sees them as a meaningful part of the Christian worldview. Might we someday be treated to a post on the theological significance of sprites and nature spirits?
3. Speaking of Salley Vickers and fairies: in your first interview with her, you recounted an encounter with what you believe was a mischievous nature spirit (or spirits) in a Maryland wood. Do you recall where you were returning from that night? And, just out of curiosity, is there any chance a friend might have followed you to play a prank?
4. Finally, you once mentioned: "I must write a list of whiskies at some point." What a splendid idea! As a fellow whisky enthusiast, I’d love to hear about your favorites—especially if your tastes lean toward the peaty. What a treat it would be to hear you describe an Islay dram with your signature eloquence
"Might we someday be treated to a post on the theological significance of sprites and nature spirits?" Apparently, we already have.
I just discovered "The Secret Commonwealth" while reading "A Splendid Wickedness" on the way to the library. Just what I was looking for, thank you, and with a beautifully evocative description of seventeenth-century funerary markers to boot!
Reminding me to finally delve into Anne Conway, who I have heard nothing but great things about recently. Catherine Pickstock I believe wrote about her and the Cambridge Platonists in a collection of Religion and Science essays that I can’t seem to find (and I believe an essay of yours was in as well).
As for Walt Whitman, I for one have consider Leaves of Grass one of my favorite books, but I also get the complaints.
For a malevolent “something” story, my aunt and step uncle have long claimed that a room in a house they used to live in was strange and uncomfortable to be in for a long period of time. They made attempts to sleep in it but found that they couldn’t sleep in the night without a feeling of uncomfortable energy intruding in. Eventually they used it as a guest room, and later hosted a family member who was not informed of the room’s history. In the morning they found him sleeping on the living room couch, with him claiming he woke up in the middle night filled with a sense of unease that forced him to leave the room.
Similar to the crucifix, my step uncle (not particularly religious by any sense) left an open Bible out that he claimed seemed to have fixed the issue. Maybe said he placed a Quran in there for good measure. All in all, I’ve never had an encounter or “supernatural” experience, and I’m hopeful that it stays that way.
As a Marylander, I’ve long felt as though I ought to like Poe, even though his connection with the greatest city in America is not so rich as we make it out to be, but I confess I too find reading him to be far from enjoyable. Alas.
A final question: Torpedo bats - A blight on the game or science at its finest?
In a mild case of synchronicity, I was talking to a Brazilian friend online last night about our respective childhood television experiences which lead me onto Doctor Who. I'm an early 90s kid and I found that watching the later seasons, especially Sylvester McCoy, which were made only a few years before I was born and were thus somehow both recognisably set in the world I grew up in while remaining distant from it, gave me an experience of that wonderful Portuguese word "saudade" which, if I understand its nuances correctly, means a nostalgic longing specifically for an event or place you yourself never experienced.
All of which is to say: what are your favourite Doctor Who serials? And most importantly, who's your favourite Doctor?
I’ll answer one of those questions, but then drop the topic. Only the first four Doctors count, of course. So, Patrick Troughton, followed by Tom Baker seasons 1-4.
“In a comment box attached to this question, one reader opined that I would choose Diana Rigg for Psyche and George C. Scott for Hephaistos.” I finally lived to be referenced in a DBH's article. Beautiful moment, do not pass away!
Dr. Hart, thank you for answering all these great questions, but especially Michael’s query. While many of us read the New York Times or The Guardian for at least some semblance of professional reporting and journalistic standards, we are not their typical skeptical readership, and most of us wouldn’t be here if we weren’t deeply interested in the numinous. With regard to the above, please feel free to share without reserve any somewhat credible preternatural experiences you have encountered or heard of.
As regards the alleged demonic attack on Tucker Carlson, wouldn’t the devil love to deceive a wicked man that he is on the path to righteousness?
"While many of us read the New York Times or The Guardian for at least some semblance of professional reporting and journalistic standards, we are not their typical skeptical readership, and most of us wouldn’t be here if we weren’t deeply interested in the numinous."
Both the Times and the Guardian are moving slowly in the right direction. The Guardian has printed positive reviews of several of Jeff Kripal's books, while the Times, in their recent obituary of NDE expert Peter Fenwick, refrained from inviting a debunker to disparage his life's work, something they did—rather disgracefully, in my opinion—in the case of poor Ian Stevenson.
I wouldn't get my hopes up just yet. If anything, the shameful surrender of a great part of the Christian (so to speak) community to Trumpism and far-right ideologies will only encourage the skeptics to distance themselves further from religion. Just wait for the next batch of "We must remove Christ from Christmas" articles in the Guardian.
I first came across Dreher because he shares some of my interests: spiritual experiences, paranormal phenomena, and the like. But then I found out that he's an admirer of Victor Orban and has some troubling—to put it mildly—views on gender and migrants. Jeff Kripal corresponded with him for a time, but found his stance on the "impossible" to be too black and white (i.e. he essentially attributes the vast majority of preternatural events to demons). Personally, I tend to think there are gradations among immaterial beings, much like among humans.
Ah, a reference to Robert Holmes in a DBH column! A most welcome surprise. Certainly a favourite era of mine, fan though I am of the more recent Eccelston, Capaldi, and now most current Gatwa era of Doctor Who.
The incidents you refer to that took place in the 1970s are something that directly affected me, given how frequently I stayed there. I was very nearly set alight, in fact, more than once. Since then, I've had a few other such encounters (a few of which I fictionalized in "Patapsco Spirits"). There is no doubt in my mind, at any rate, of the reality of such entities.
Yeah, but what exactly are they (other than Republicans)?
Not all immaterial Republicans are malevolent. I would love to make the acquaintance of the shade of Thaddeus Stevens.
Hello Addison (if I may),
I recently subscribed to your Substack and look forward to browsing. Is there an ebook version of "Patapsco Spirits," by chance?
I really don't know, to be honest. Check with Amazon and Angelico Press. If there’s not, there should be.
I asked my wife to get it for me as an anniversary present.
I didn't see one, unfortunately. I'll email the Press. I actually prefer real books, but I don't have much room left in my small abode, and my Kindle Paperwhite is so darn convenient.
I’ve only ever had a few moments where I felt something unseen was a round and even less actually seeing them (grandfather face in the window or a passed cat). But around where I live in Long Island many of the old mansions have been turned into museums almost every single one of them(or atleast every other, guess I just cut that in half) have ghost story’s floating around them.
Then again—what would the effective difference be between some creature that inhabits the psychic wastes of the imaginal realm as it gathers like turbid shadow around the unconscious of a living soul, conjured by emotions unnameable to children and to the deeply repressed and feeding on their preternatural energies, manifesting in phenomena physical and parapsychological—and a demon?
Apparently the number of syllables required to identify them.
Admittedly, demons tend to have more debonair names.
I'd like to ask a question. I talked to David Armstrong about this recently and I guess I shouldn't be so surprised since, on one hand, this sort of thing is as old as time, but I was actually scandalized by some recent events. One is Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev's fall from grace. I bore much fruit from his works and it turns out he's just another lurid, depraved and hypocritical hierarch chases after lust and riches. I was much more shocked to see Elpidophoros bend the knee to Trump and have the temerity to say that he embodies the virtues of the Gospel and the Christian faith. Just wanted to know if you had any specific thoughts on either of these two episodes.
Alfeyev had already revealed himself to be a villain by becoming Kirill's propaganda chief; that he turned out also to be so corrupt and larcenous is hardly a surprise. All very disappointing, given his decent book on the harrowing of hell from several years ago. Then again, his liturgical compositions are frighteningly banal, and I agree with Hannah Arendt on the banality of evil. As for Elpidophoros, a few years ago he seemed like a good man with a sharp mind, but he clearly wants to be the next Oecumenical Patriarch, and that always requires the favor of the American administration, for geopolitical reasons not worth going into here. He has disgraced his office, but a lot of Greek Orthodox in this country have already allowed themselves to be branded with the mark of the beast.
Any prelate who bends the knee to Trump is morally compromised.
Yeah it just sucks because he seemed like one of the good ones.
I am sorry. I am not Orthodox, but I can imagine the disappointment. My rule is anyone who supports Trump is suspect: either they agree with what he does/says or they can't be bothered to educate themselves enough to care.
I totally agree. It's just strange that Elpidophoros was marching with BLM and now supports Trump. I guess he goes where the wind blows to gain favor with the powerful, whether that's left or right is no matter. And I am dealing with that myself. Most of my family voted for Trump and I thought seriously about not talking to them or visiting them until they repented. I did let them have it for a bit, but I've since backed off of that, but I'm still torn. IDK, these are trying times.
Yes, very. I am sorry you are going through that with your family.
I live thousands of miles away from my brother now, so it doesn't affect my daily life. Still, he's a kind person, so his support for Trump doesn't make sense to me.
Same here, I'm fairly bewildered by all that is going on.
That includes my own brother.
Honestly, I think I might understand what you mean re: Dickinson. As a teen I earnestly read some of the much-anthologised poems and when I found them queer allowed myself to be charmed and chalked it up to the ethereal genius which is insisted upon to account for them-- (telegram posts from another world. Stop.)
Many years later I picked up a Penguin Mini of her poems thinking I'd be in for a treat. I hadn't read or thought about her at all in between times. I was, and not to put too fine a point on it, a little embarrassed. They seemed frivolous and gauche. And the dash-punctuation 'scheme' (if you can call it that) seemed to serve only to desiccate the sense and trip the reader up with not enough in between to justify them. One thing you can't deny her, though, is her yield. She produced a lot of those ideograms.
I can forgive yr view of Whitman, though I want to buttonhole you & recite “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” until you relent, but what you say about Dickinson shocks me. “No man saw awe,” “Through what transports of patience,” “The tint I cannot take,” “There’s a certain Slant of Light,” & two dozen others off the top of my head are certainly the equal of the best of Keats & Hopkins, both of whom she resembles in occult ways. For shame, sir.
No, let’s just disagree there. Her voice grates on me like fingernails on a chalkboard.
I will just relegate her to the category of black metal, which it is impossible for you to hear properly. Although it's Whitman who calls grass "the beautiful uncut hair of graves."
Speaking of black metal, I realized you'd told me that story about the spirits. Now I would ask what it was that you saw on Mt. Athos that convinced you of the reality of spiritual warfare, as you remarked somewhere.
Yes, lots of lovely lines.
I second Michael's question about your experience on Mt. Athos that you have alluded to cryptically in the past. I am, of course, unashamedly taking advantage of your confessional mood, so for that I ask you to forgive me, but I have always wondered about that since you first mentioned it. If you're so inclined, that'd be wonderful.
Seconded.
It would seem you diverge with Harold Bloom on Walt Whitman. Free verse can sound rhythm and toneless, but Whitman still gives me shivers, especially with this stanza from “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d”:
In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle—and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
The refrain in this stanza is quite lovely. And occasionally I will say to myself, “with every leaf a miracle.” Just a simple reminder of the awe inspiring mystery of creation.
There is something uniquely encouraging about a writer we admire affiliating himself with a cause we champion. I felt this way when I learned about your universalism and your DSA membership, but I feel twice as vindicated learning of your affection for the Troughton Doctor.
I feel our souls are in sympathetic contact.
The continual Patrick Troughton references here make this, of course, your very finest Leaves in the Wind post
I did it just for you, Bubbles.
A few thoughts in response to your story about malevolent spirits...
“(And, anyway, one doesn’t want to be likened in any way to the revolting Tucker Carlson, who apparently recently claimed to have been assaulted in his bed by a demon. No doubt, if he wasn’t simply lying, he was merely being attacked by his own conscience, to the degree that such a thing exists. If it was a demon, however, I suspect that it was prompted by envy at how much more evil Carlson is than even the most enterprising devil ever could be.)”
My sister, who shares my political views, works as a flight attendant and once had the misfortune of having Carlson in first class on one of her flights. I half-joked that she should’ve slipped some cyanide into his drink. As for his supposed demonic afflictions, I’ve heard he lets his dog sleep in his bed. While I’m more open than most to non-naturalistic explanations, I suspect the pooch is a likelier culprit for the scratches than Beelzebub.
“Then too, I do not want to seem like a lunatic or a fool, much less someone who tells tall tales in order to excite interest from the credulous;” and “So there. I hope I don’t sound like an imbecile.”
Certainly not! Though I must admit, the latter line made me sad. It's unfortunate that we still live in the shadow of modernity’s impulse to pathologize all spiritual or supernatural experience. The resulting taboo, in my view, remains the greatest barrier to discussing these phenomena in a serious, open-minded, and intellectually honest way.
“The mother was gone and under institutional care, dealing with severe psychological issues that had included, it turned out, some serious dabbling in the diabolistic occult.”
I have an intellectual interest in ceremonial magic, both historical and contemporary. I once listened to a podcast featuring a prominent practitioner who observed that people often reach out after rituals go awry—something is summoned but not properly dismissed, resulting in persistent poltergeist activity, or worse. Something of that sort could very well lie at the root of the disturbances you describe.
Incidentally, Richard Kieckhefer—the foremost living historian of medieval magic (only Lynn Thorndike, were he still with us, might give him a run for his money)—believes that such rituals can be effective, though he remains agnostic about the mechanism by which they operate. He told me he intentionally left parts of the spells in "Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer’s Manual of the Fifteenth Century" untranslated for precisely that reason. Probably for the best. The book has developed a certain popularity in prisons, and he once received a letter from an inmate lamenting that the rituals had failed to produce results...
“I do not have much interest in such topics, and would rather believe that such things do not exist, but there were simply too many episodes to explain away, at least according to my poor lights.”
This is where we part ways. I am deeply fascinated by such topics. That said, you are hardly alone among intellectuals in having had some form of contact with what seemed like a malevolent force. One very prominent historian once confided in me about a time when his home was haunted by what he quite reasonably believed to be a demonic presence: foul odors, hazy apparitions, and an entire roomful of children’s toys switching on at once in the dead of night.
Then there’s the case of Dr. Jeffrey Lieberman—formerly the Lawrence C. Kolb Professor and Chair of Psychiatry at Columbia, Director of the New York State Psychiatric Institute, and Psychiatrist-in-Chief at Columbia University Medical Center. Before his fall from grace due to ill-advised remarks on Twitter, he had a sterling reputation. His own account is worth reading for those curious: https://www.ncregister.com/blog/agnostic-director-of-the-exorcist-witnesses-a-real-life-case-of-possession
Unfortunately, only a few of the major Cambridge Platonists’ works are available in-print as contemporary editions with modernized spelling. I once asked a prominent scholar of 17th century philosophy if he thought that any major academic press would be interested in brining out a complete, modernized edition of Ralph Cudworth’s *True Intellectual System of the Universe*. His response was, “Sadly, no.”
What a bounty! Many thanks for this, Dr. Hart! Great questions all around.
If you're open to a few more, I’d be grateful to add to the conversation:
1. Might there be any chance you’ll one day publish a collection of Great Uncle Aloysius’s poetry?
2 I was struck by Salley Vickers’s remarks in the recent documentary about your life, where she noted you're one of the very few modern Christian thinkers who believes in fairies and sees them as a meaningful part of the Christian worldview. Might we someday be treated to a post on the theological significance of sprites and nature spirits?
3. Speaking of Salley Vickers and fairies: in your first interview with her, you recounted an encounter with what you believe was a mischievous nature spirit (or spirits) in a Maryland wood. Do you recall where you were returning from that night? And, just out of curiosity, is there any chance a friend might have followed you to play a prank?
4. Finally, you once mentioned: "I must write a list of whiskies at some point." What a splendid idea! As a fellow whisky enthusiast, I’d love to hear about your favorites—especially if your tastes lean toward the peaty. What a treat it would be to hear you describe an Islay dram with your signature eloquence
With warm thanks in advance,
Troy
"Might we someday be treated to a post on the theological significance of sprites and nature spirits?" Apparently, we already have.
I just discovered "The Secret Commonwealth" while reading "A Splendid Wickedness" on the way to the library. Just what I was looking for, thank you, and with a beautifully evocative description of seventeenth-century funerary markers to boot!
Reminding me to finally delve into Anne Conway, who I have heard nothing but great things about recently. Catherine Pickstock I believe wrote about her and the Cambridge Platonists in a collection of Religion and Science essays that I can’t seem to find (and I believe an essay of yours was in as well).
As for Walt Whitman, I for one have consider Leaves of Grass one of my favorite books, but I also get the complaints.
For a malevolent “something” story, my aunt and step uncle have long claimed that a room in a house they used to live in was strange and uncomfortable to be in for a long period of time. They made attempts to sleep in it but found that they couldn’t sleep in the night without a feeling of uncomfortable energy intruding in. Eventually they used it as a guest room, and later hosted a family member who was not informed of the room’s history. In the morning they found him sleeping on the living room couch, with him claiming he woke up in the middle night filled with a sense of unease that forced him to leave the room.
Similar to the crucifix, my step uncle (not particularly religious by any sense) left an open Bible out that he claimed seemed to have fixed the issue. Maybe said he placed a Quran in there for good measure. All in all, I’ve never had an encounter or “supernatural” experience, and I’m hopeful that it stays that way.
"All in all, I’ve never had an encounter or “supernatural” experience, and I’m hopeful that it stays that way. "
I long to have one. Though of the positive variety, of course.
As a Marylander, I’ve long felt as though I ought to like Poe, even though his connection with the greatest city in America is not so rich as we make it out to be, but I confess I too find reading him to be far from enjoyable. Alas.
A final question: Torpedo bats - A blight on the game or science at its finest?
In a mild case of synchronicity, I was talking to a Brazilian friend online last night about our respective childhood television experiences which lead me onto Doctor Who. I'm an early 90s kid and I found that watching the later seasons, especially Sylvester McCoy, which were made only a few years before I was born and were thus somehow both recognisably set in the world I grew up in while remaining distant from it, gave me an experience of that wonderful Portuguese word "saudade" which, if I understand its nuances correctly, means a nostalgic longing specifically for an event or place you yourself never experienced.
All of which is to say: what are your favourite Doctor Who serials? And most importantly, who's your favourite Doctor?
I’ll answer one of those questions, but then drop the topic. Only the first four Doctors count, of course. So, Patrick Troughton, followed by Tom Baker seasons 1-4.
“In a comment box attached to this question, one reader opined that I would choose Diana Rigg for Psyche and George C. Scott for Hephaistos.” I finally lived to be referenced in a DBH's article. Beautiful moment, do not pass away!
Dr. Hart, thank you for answering all these great questions, but especially Michael’s query. While many of us read the New York Times or The Guardian for at least some semblance of professional reporting and journalistic standards, we are not their typical skeptical readership, and most of us wouldn’t be here if we weren’t deeply interested in the numinous. With regard to the above, please feel free to share without reserve any somewhat credible preternatural experiences you have encountered or heard of.
As regards the alleged demonic attack on Tucker Carlson, wouldn’t the devil love to deceive a wicked man that he is on the path to righteousness?
"While many of us read the New York Times or The Guardian for at least some semblance of professional reporting and journalistic standards, we are not their typical skeptical readership, and most of us wouldn’t be here if we weren’t deeply interested in the numinous."
Both the Times and the Guardian are moving slowly in the right direction. The Guardian has printed positive reviews of several of Jeff Kripal's books, while the Times, in their recent obituary of NDE expert Peter Fenwick, refrained from inviting a debunker to disparage his life's work, something they did—rather disgracefully, in my opinion—in the case of poor Ian Stevenson.
I wouldn't get my hopes up just yet. If anything, the shameful surrender of a great part of the Christian (so to speak) community to Trumpism and far-right ideologies will only encourage the skeptics to distance themselves further from religion. Just wait for the next batch of "We must remove Christ from Christmas" articles in the Guardian.
Yes, especially with the rise of the "enchanted Right" associated with Rod Dreher.
Please do not mention that name. Talk about invoking evil spirits…
I first came across Dreher because he shares some of my interests: spiritual experiences, paranormal phenomena, and the like. But then I found out that he's an admirer of Victor Orban and has some troubling—to put it mildly—views on gender and migrants. Jeff Kripal corresponded with him for a time, but found his stance on the "impossible" to be too black and white (i.e. he essentially attributes the vast majority of preternatural events to demons). Personally, I tend to think there are gradations among immaterial beings, much like among humans.
He’s also a moron, a lunatic, and a wee bit of a Nazi. I would advise ignoring him.
Ah, a reference to Robert Holmes in a DBH column! A most welcome surprise. Certainly a favourite era of mine, fan though I am of the more recent Eccelston, Capaldi, and now most current Gatwa era of Doctor Who.
Doctor Who ended in 1978. Maybe 1980.
Alas, in this matter I must confess taste would have me agree, but sentimentality blinds me.