Invoking the Goetic Feminine
by Maja Meurling
As has been more or less remarked upon many times, Goes, the name of the practitioner, from whence comes the name of the practice, Goetia, is a queer word: the feminine root go- combined with the masculine suffix -es. As if to mirror this, those of us working the magic of the Grimorium Verum approach the evocation with two wands, one governed by the male Frimost and one by the female Klepoth. This moment, in which the masculine and feminine are both explicitly present, is a rare thing in grimoire magic, however.
While the goetic perspective locates the spirits of the grimoires in a larger ecology of chthonic deities, heroes, saints, ghosts, ancestors, and local spirits, compared to spirit-oriented traditions from other parts of the world, the European grimoires themselves seem to be missing entire pantheons of female spirits. This imbalance is part of the larger problem of the general marginalisation of the feminine and queer expressions of the spiritual within European religions (with Protestant Christianity arguably constituting the current pinnacle of this long and problematic process). Whether perceived of as real or not, gender plays a role in myth, iconography, and direct interaction with the spirits themselves.
With the crucial groundwork of the Encyclopaedia Goetica done, feminist and queer readings of the personae of the Goetic circle (or, if preferred, mythic cosmos) are due. Here and now, however, we’ll have to settle for some very basic observations. The purpose is not (or shouldn’t be) to push excesses of personal preference on the spirits, or to clumsily throw out any babies with the bathwater, but rather to unpack and dismantle extraneous and detrimental patriarchal projections within the (primarily by men) transmitted material and bring to the fore what is already there.
To start with, there are female (or commonly/mainly female presenting) spirits in the grimoires, though often obscured behind androcentric literary convention. Onoskelis, Obyzuth, Astaroth, Klepoth, Paymon, and Gremory are a few such examples. Of these, Astaroth is particularly noteworthy not only for her role as one of the Three Chiefs but also for her connection with Inanna, the oldest attested patron goddess of forms of gender non-conformity. Classes of female spirits comparable to the Tantric Yogini or the Pomba Gira of Quimbanda, on the other hand, while present in European folklore, appear to be absent from the spirit catalogues. Often such beings blur the boundaries between ghosts, nature spirits, and demons. Their frequent association with Lucifer in folk belief presents an opportunity for practitioners already accustomed to conjuring by the Emperor’s authority. Ancestors and other spirits of the dead present another avenue for rebalancing the circle, as do pagan goddesses such as those encountered in the PGM.
On the topic of working with the dead, one figure which deserves more practical attention is that of the magical heroine. As discussed in Geosophia, identification with magical heroes constitutes an important part of goetic practice. Unfortunately, the magical heroes of the grimoires (Solomon, Moses, Cyprian, etc.) are predominantly, if not exclusively, men. While not explicitly discussed, Geosophia does makes a strong case for an alternative in the form of Medea. Even without grimoires attributed to her, the granddaughter of Helios, priestess (and, according to one source, daughter) of Hekate is as much the archetypal magician as Solomon or Cyprian. For practitioners desiring a counterweight to such figures, invocation of and/or identification with Medea (or a comparable figure) as a magical heroine is certainly an option worthy of exploration (in my own practice this has so far been achieved primarily by substituting the psalms associated with the Verum consecration formula with suitable passages from the Argonautica).
Then there is the question of eschatology-oriented identification with the chthonic goddess. While the Pyramidos ritual has much to speak for it in terms of tying together various elements of goetic practice into a coherent opening and closing ritual, the placement of Osiris at the heart of it leaves something to be desired. The convenience of effective readymade rituals from the occult revival shouldn’t keep us from at least attempting to explore more inclusive variants, or, at least, variants centring different experiences. Persephone has similar themes of descent and transformation into a ruler of the underworld, and brings with her a myth that includes suitable alternative personages for populating the corners of the triangle within the circle. Given its connections to chthonic goddesses on the one hand and its association with the Egyptian household god Bes (or his feminine form Beset) and, by extension, the Headless One (for Bes’ association with Headless One see PGM VII. 222-49 and PGM VIII. 64-110), the Gorgoneion makes for an apt phylactery when such work is to be undertaken.
On the surface, many grimoires appear to present us with pantheons of mostly male spirits to be called upon by the power of a male god. As shown by the Encyclopaedia Goetica, this is a poor first impression. Goetic practice enables working with, swearing by, and/or identifying with chthonic powers of various gender expressions. There is however more to be done in bringing this to light, as well as much experimenting with how to accomplish a more balanced approach to the work, particular for those new to the practice who (like me when I first started out) might find that first impression less than encouraging.
Image shown is a detail from Jason and Medea by John William Waterhouse (1907).
© 2023 Maja Meurling
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