EVERLASTING FLOWER
The Complete Book of Fortune – Anonymous
Published by Britain’s Associated Newspaper Group in 1936, just three years before the outbreak of World War II, this fortune-telling tome is packed with divination systems, parlour tricks, occult secrets, and superstitious rhymes.
The then-founder/owner of the newspaper group, Viscount Rothermere, was a confirmed fascist, who supported Nazi Germany and the British Union of Fascists. Now known as DMG Media, the group remains in the control of Rothermere’s descendants, with a reported revenue of £885 million in 2021, and is best known for right-wing tabloid newspaper, the Daily Mail.
This handsomely produced book, presumably available by mail-order, is testament to the enduring profits of prophesying in times of conflict and uncertainty. What else could ordinary British citizens do aside from wishfully blow on a dandelion clock for world peace whilst the corrupt ruling elite fanboyed for Mosley and Death Himself?
Many copies, I’m sure, were duly sold.
Hypnotism, and mesmerism, pepper the pages. Fortune-telling by playing cards, for instance, is dependent upon a person’s “magnetic influence” and channeling abilities. Divination by crystal gazing explicitly uses a form of self-hypnosis, while descriptions of ‘astral projection’ or ‘remote viewing’ come across as novel co-created hypnotic experiments, if not in direct terms.
That ‘hypnotic’ vibes and flourishes might underscore, say, the reading of the tea leaves or domino tiles is taken as a given, whether the diviner is knowingly and dispassionately applying a learned system for sport and fun, and/or is (un)wittingly role-playing a ‘genuine mystic’.
It would be fascinating to know which occultist/s compiled The Complete Book of Fortune. It’s positioned as a comprehensive reference to occult sciences and is written in a neutral, respectful, open tone. But whether a magician is sharing secrets or disposing of them is part of the allure of magic books. I can’t imagine the writers/editors included, say, “Napoleon’s Book of Fate” (see right) – a sort of ‘war-chaos’ system reportedly translated from a manuscript found in an Egyptian tomb a century prior – with the intent of influencing anything other than their bank balances. I travailed the directories of dreams, oracles, and omens dreading finding hateful origins and meanings… The listicles of divination systems are, however, distinctly bygone and ‘French courty’ in theme. How mesmerists and mentalists, occultists and casanovas fomented suspicion and scandal at royal and aristocratic card tables during the European revolutions reflected an old world order, whatever course Britain took. I’m sure publishing sorcerers’ ‘secrets’ in service of a fascist propagandist was ‘made right’ with some snazzy magick handshakes and utterances of ambiguously malevolent corvid poetry.
As a popular occult book, The Complete Book of Fortune perfectly appeals to laypeople’s nostalgia for ‘maternal’ and ‘feminine’ superstitions and ‘wisdoms’. And in that respect it is precisely the sort of Feminist Triumph you’d expect from the Daily Mail. I can imagine the book sat proudly upon the bookshelf of a middle-class family home alongside domestic manuals by Mrs Beeton and her ilk. Ah, what a Christmas it was at Granny’s in 1936..! Pretending we are the goodly meanings of our Christian names… Making passive-aggressive flower arrangements… Practising physiognomy on Blackshirt Uncle Dickie… There is much for women and girls in particular to be ‘empowered’ by. Yet how provocative and offensive to stoke precisely the sorts of superstitions and imaginary ‘magic’ peoples were already being persecuted for. All for the sake of being Queen of The Coffee Morning or King of The Card Game down your local church or boozer.
There are a few notable pages missing. I love the notion of a previous reader – perhaps “V Vaughan” – tearing them out in a fatalistic paroxysm. Now I’ll never know what a broken sixpence means when it comes to the fortunes of lovers. And I fear my childhood shame about my inconsistent handwriting shall finally prove me a criminal mastermind via the graphology guide.
Flummoxed as to what sort of future awaits, I find closure in an irrelevant 1936 birthday ‘year ahead’ prediction for today’s date:
“A successful issue to private enterprise. Refuse requests to take public duties.”
