Modernity’s Fraternity

From KtB's Sam Biagetti, an unreview of Dan Brown's Masonic potboiler.

To paraphrase Gaiman, there's always been and always will be an Atlantis. Though that's not right: Atlantis was at its most popular this past century. Before that, people spoke of the underground river, or the chymical wedding, or if they were Masons, of the lost Word of the Temple. The common motif is ancient wisdom of sacred immensity, hidden beneath the weight of catastrophe, but waiting in the underlying-places, visible in hints and glances that only make partial sense out of the world, until the stars are right, our practices of arduous purity grant O-9 level revelations, and the eschaton gets immanetized right the fuck out.

Conspiracy, religion, schizophrenia, despair: pick one. The rabbit-hole of "but it all must mean something" has swallowed many an Alice. At least Mr. Brown seems to avoid the trap which caught the poor authors of Holy Blood, Holy Grail, who openly entreat the secret masters of the world to come out behind that curtain because we know you're there and won't you tell us how clever we are! There's a venerable tradition of such publications, philosophy/history/magical practice as the cri de coeur of the lost child in the supermarket, or perhaps the one who knows their real parents are secret agents and/or circus acrobats. One would think they read HBHG without having also read Foucault's Pendulum.

Personally, Masonicism seems far too boring as far as secret religions go. If they aren't running drug-fueled possession-dances or ritually debasing themselves before Baphomet, there just isn't a draw for me. If I wanted a social club, I'd claim to be Christian, and if I wanted a calm voyage of self-actualization, I'd claim to be Buddhist.

This isn't to knock those who are looking for such things; as Cory Doctorow put it, lots of people play it safe, and it doesn't make them assholes, even when it makes them ineffectual and useless.

-Nick