UFO dystopia
Cold War anxieties are still being worked out, as this study of ufological ‘fake news’ shows
The UFO Dossier 100 Years of Government Secrets, Conspiracies & CoverUps
Kevin D Randle Visible Ink 2016
Pb, 413pp, illus, notes, bib, ind, $19.95, ISBN 9781578595648 The idea that some national governments have taken an interest in what we might call UFO-like phenomena is old hat. It may have begun in the simple but ancient prerogative of guarding our territory against unlawful intrusion, but then two things happened in the mid-1940s to complicate matters: science fiction introduced into popular culture the idea of invasion by technologically superior extraterrestials; then the era of the Cold War between Russia and the Western Allies ramped up the general paranoia, creating a fertile compost in which such tropes as mind control and other ‘black ops’, reverse engineering of crashed saucers, covert surveillance and the ‘silencing’ of witnesses, and the whole alien hybrid and abduction canon, could flourish.
In this perfect storm of suspicion and bewilderment, ‘official sources’ (which might normally be relied upon for facts and truth) deliberately, or as some suspect ‘by design’, lost their reliability and transparency, by resorting to redacting, suppressing, or ridiculing any mention of such things. On their side, whatever confidence and trust the military, intelligence and security establishment ever had in the general public was quickly eroded. It was as if the public had become an ‘enemy’, or at least something that could not be trusted. If America were a person, we’d be talking about a psychological fragmentation; you only have to consider the proliferation of literature and movies about dystopias and conspiracy theories to realise that the effects of this general anxiety are still working out.
Who can we turn to for reliable insight into this chaotic (but very modern) mythology? You could do much worse than trust Kevin Randle. With his US Army and Air Force experience, and with degrees in psychology and military science, and more than half his life spent in detailed investigation of UFO incidents and interviewing key witnesses and colleagues, he is an ideal guide. He sets out the issues clearly, homing in on verifiable facts as he hacks through seven decades’ worth of ‘fake news’ (the surfeit of lies, rumours, disinformation and misinterpretation).
He opens with a valuable critical essay on the history of ‘official’ UFO investigations in the USA; the remaining nine detailed sections include astronomical objects perceived as UFOs; photographic evidence; five major incidents in November 1957; injuries ‘caused by’ UFOs; groups of lights in the sky; the role of scientists in investigations and reports; official reports from other countries; an analysis of the official French COMETA Report of 1999; and a survey of how the UFO phenomenon has changed as it continues into the 21st century. This latter section includes a careful analysis of the many ‘unofficial’ catalogues of sightings and humanoid encounters compiled by veteran ufologists for their colleagues.
Recommended as an up-to-date overview of a very convoluted subject. Bob Rickard as the implications of their work could hardly be more profound for all of us, for whom the questions will be answered one day.
The Phoenix An Unnatural Biography of a Mythical Beast
Joseph Nigg University of Chicago 2016 Pb, 416pp, illus, notes, bib, ind, $35.00, ISBN 9780226195490
In The Phoenix: An Unnatural Biography of a Mythical Beast,
Joseph Nigg provides an ambitious and painstakingly researched volume that maps the indeterminate sources of the mythological bird that first appeared in ancient times and whose symbolism remains prevalent to this day, charting the development of the phoenix as symbol from its roots in ancient Egyptian myth to its eventual accumulation of characteristics from vastly different cultures, regions, and historical epochs.
As promulgated by a cult at Heliopolis, the world began when Ra assumed the appearance of the Bennu, a solar bird, a possible inspiration for the phoenix, whose initial cry initiated time. The bird later reappears as the phoenix in ancient Greek texts, most notably Hesiod and Herodotus, and in Ovid’s
Metamorphoses is reworked into a pagan symbol of regeneration. During the early Christian era, the phoenix frequently appears in various bestiaries, and in De ave
phoenice, the “Christian Cicero” Lactantius’s startlingly beautiful Latin 170-line poem, is delicately transmuted into a Christian symbol of death’s transcendence through divine intervention.
Regrettably, Nigg stumbles in his rather injudicious discussions of the use of the phoenix in literary works from Lactantius to Shakespeare’s The Phoenix and the
Tortoise to the metaphysical poets of the 17th century and more modern literary practitioners such as American poet Robert Pinsky and Harry Potter author J K Rowling, the limitations of which betray Nigg’s negligible gifts for literary analysis.
Of greater interest to forteans is, thankfully, an altogether illuminating analysis of the often overlooked use of the phoenix as a descriptive symbol in the final, spiritual stage of the alchemical process, namely the transmutation of the soul.
While Nigg, a retired professor and author of the immaculately illustrated
Sea Monsters (University of Chicago 2013), an exploration of Olaus Magnus’s mysterious 16th century map the Carta Marina, is to be commended for bringing to popular attention many wonderfully obscure texts, some familiar only to scholars, The Phoenix, like his earlier Sea Monsters, is more compilation than in-depth study. Textual analysis and critical insight are decidedly not Nigg’s métier; frequent errors in dates and translation further frustrate Nigg’s work as a credible resource for scholars. Moreover, Nigg has no central story to tell, further diminishing the text’s readability. However, if comprehensiveness is a sole criterion for excellence, than Nigg more than makes up for these rather unfortunate limitations; one suspects that deep analysis of the many entries, however articulate or well-researched, in a book that covers the expanse of prehistory to modern times, would require many thousands more pages.
As it stands, The Phoenix is an enlightening yet ultimately flawed compendium of knowledge concerning this fascinating, often mystical, mythological symbol. Eric Hoffman
Hitler’s Monsters A Supernatural History of the Third Reich Eric Kurlander Yale University Press 2017 Pb, 406pp, ind, bib, £25.00/$35.00, ISBN 9780300189452
No regime in history invites as many connections to the occult and paranormal as Nazi Germany. In general, though, academic histories tend to give the Nazi relationship with the supernatural relatively little attention. Non-academic historians enthusiastically propound Nazi connections to the occult or “border science,” while most academic historians tend to treat the supernatural
as a source of metaphor or a personal fixation of leaders like Himmler or Rudolf Hess. Eric Kurlander, however, contends that while the Third Reich cannot be explained away as some kind of occult conspiracy, the “supernatural imaginary” is a vital part of understanding not only the Nazi world view but the way in which Hitler was able to succeed in winning over German voters. “No mass political movement,” he argues, “drew as consciously or consistently as the Nazis on… the ‘supernatural imaginary’ – occultism and ‘border science,’ pagan, New Age, and Eastern religions, folklore, mythology and many other supernatural doctrines...”.
Hitler’s Monsters is divided into three parts. The first focuses on the background of folklore, occultism and border science in Germany and Austria in the decades before the rise of the Nazis. Kurlander explores the wide range of different German Romantic, occult and border science movements that created a supernatural milieu for the Nazis, with particular attention paid to the Thule Society and its influence. These influences created a Nazi supernatural imaginary that drew on these different influences but didn’t correspond exactly to any of them. This resulted in an accessible set of myths and symbols that helped the Nazis politically. This section also deals with the role of supernatural imagery and themes in Nazi propaganda.
In the second part, Kurlander addresses the role of the supernatural in Nazi policy between 1933 and the beginning of the war. Once in power, the Nazis could either implement the agenda implied by their supernatural beliefs or abandon it as a now-superfluous electoral strategy. Kurlander argues that they did the former, and that relatively isolated incidents of the Nazi regime suppressing occultists or border science had more to do with policing ideological opposition than with any concerted policy against their former esoteric allies. This section also discusses Nazi patronage of border science (Kurlander avoids the terms “fringe science” or “pseudoscience”) as well as the quest to develop a Nazi alternative to established religious beliefs.
The final section deals with Nazism and the supernatural during the war itself. Kurlander covers the German fascination with border science “miracle weapons” as well as the role of unorthodox scientific theories in Nazi racial policy, including mass murder and human experimentation. Ethnology, archæology and folklore all also played a role in justifying Germany’s imperial ambitions in Eastern Europe. Thorough, detailed and informative, Hitler’s
Monsters is a fascinating guide to the role that supernatural beliefs played in the rise and rule of the Nazi party. It deals dispassionately with the topic, discussing these ideas and their importance in great detail without either dismissing them or descending into sensational conspiracy theory. In fact, Kurlander makes an excellent case for the partial, eclectic and opportunistic nature of Nazi engagement with the supernatural – just as with science, conventional politics, economics and other areas of thought, the Nazis blended elements of disparate beliefs into a mixture that served their ideological goals. Hitler’s Monsters is ultimately a work of academic history, and there are parts of the text where Kurlander engages with controversies most lay readers won’t be familiar with (although these are always clearly explained). In general, though, it’s clear and easy to read, although densely packed with information. Any reader interested in the real role played by the supernatural in the rise, rule and ruin of Nazi Germany will want to explore Kurlander’s book. James Holloway
Gayer-Anderson The Life and Afterlife of the Irish Pasha Louise Foxcroft Unbound 2016 Hb, 248pp, illus, bib, ind, £30.00, ISBN8671783523658
If the name Gayer-Anderson is familiar, it is probably because of the eponymous cat in the British Museum. In addition to being a noted Egyptologist, ‘Pum’ Gayer-Anderson (1881– 1945) was a poet, psychic, soldier, surgeon, Arabist, and admirer and mentor of perfect young boys. His childhood was spent trailing across America with a brutal father, submissive mother and his siblings, including the identical twin with whom he had a telepathic relationship. Despite minimal education, he got into Guy’s Hospital to study medicine and became a surgeon, which he regarded as a route to freedom.
Pum’s first trip to Egypt and Sudan was the start of a life-long Orientalist passion. He boiled Nubians’ heads to provide skulls for research institutes and cash for himself, deadened to the horror by opium. He shot crocodiles, which the locals regarded as sacred, dissected snakes and researched sleeping sickness. His acknowledged “emotional paralysis” dominated his public life, but his time in Cairo enabled him to build a “private, surreal inner life”. He was a living embodiment of the dissonance between a louche East and repressed late Victorian West, but his discretion allowed him to hide his sexual adventures in the hammams. Pum’s collecting (he became a recognised expert of Egyptian antiquities) and his “psychic adventures” merged, and he felt an apprehension or delight in handling objects. He ‘dreamed’ of finds and ‘felt’ if objects were khazook or genuine. As an adult, he mourned the “pristine intuition” of adolescents experiencing poltergeists. ‘Fate’ drew him to the house that became the museum named after him.
This biography is laughout-loud funny, touching and fascinating. Val Stevenson
In Fairyland The World of Tessa Farmer Ed: Catriona McAra Strange Attractor Press 2016 Pb, 128pp, illus, plates, notes, £14.99, ISBN 9781907222375
Tessa Farmer’s fairies are visceral predators of tooth and claw, in some ways far from the courtly manners of the delicate Victorian flower fairies, or the etiquette obsessed good neighbours of folklore. In Fairyland: The World of Tessa
Farmer is a perfect example of how to put together a collection of essays about a single subject. The strength is in the variety of discussions included. Essays explore fairy art, the natural history of Farmer’s skeletal fairies, and the relationship between her work and that of her great-grandfather Arthur Machen. This is a book that will appeal to many forteans, whether interested in cryptids, British taxidermy traditions, the representation of the invisible world, or contemporary treatments of folkloric topics in art.
The book is well illustrated with good quality colour plates. These struggle a little to convey the scale of Farmer’s work. This is down to her installations being so complex in their execution rather than an issue with the photographs. They do manage to display the nature of her skeletal charges in a way that complements the text.
My favourite essays are those exploring the insectlike character of the fairies in Farmer’s work. Gavin R Broad’s study of their natural history is nuanced and developed, as is Petra Lange-Berndt’s exploration of their swarming nature.
These are just my personal highlights. There isn’t a weak chapter here, and I would highly recommend In Fairyland to anyone with an interest in what might be flitting past the corner of their eye. Steve Toase