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Magic: A Practical Guide to Writing Magic for BoM

I. Don't Panic

This is good advice in all contexts, but here it means "Don't let all the metaphysical mumbo jumbo throw you." It's just a lot of stage craft to create an effect. The effect only has to be created once; and once it's created, it can be safely ignored.

Moreover, the wanted effect is merely negative; the mumbo-jumbo is there only to counteract what I call "Harry Potter Syndrome." The worst thing in those books is the magic, which is described as something technical and difficult and is taught by scary professors in a hardcore academic setting, but in practice is just people thrusting sticks at each other while yelling fake Latin. The problem is that the word-thrust-effect just looks arbitrary. Every wand thrust is the same as every other wand thrust; the words are just placeholders; there's no explanation for why the stuff that happens does happen. It's as bad as those movies and TV shows where the computer whiz "gets into the system" by sliding on some glasses and tapping furiously at a keyboard. You take it on faith that it works, but there is no sense of reality to it.

The mumbo-jumbo in BoM is there to give a sense that there is a hard core beneath the fluffy effects.

That leads to the second point:

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II. Organizing Principles

The magic is there to serve the story. The story is not there to serve the magic. When it doubt, use your creative guts to come up with something nifty. It's good if you can justify the nifty effects by pointing to the rules or some corollaries. It's even better if you can use the rules to craft some nifty effects. But the story is what counts.

That being said, the magic should never have the feel of being arbitrary. But the way to guard against arbitrariness is to look at the story-telling principles beneath the magic, not at the rules that are given in this guide.

In "Book of Masks," cause and effect are the organizing principles. Blackwell says you seize two states and bring them into a relation of cause and effect. Joe Durras says you see two connected states and leverage them to your advantage. Cause and effect are very intuitive, and by organizing the magic in BoM around that intuitive notion, I hope it gives the effects some substance, even as the mumbo-jumbo leaves it feeling like something that operates beyond the ken of ordinary physical science.

So, every bit of magic needs to have a sense of impetus and result. Someone does THIS, and THAT is the result. In some cases it is a simple action-reaction: Frank snaps his fingers, and a wall falls over. In others, the connection is more circuitous but can still be traced, at least if you read enough of the right chapters. (The explanation needn't be given right away; better, often, that it not be.) Consider the hexed money. How does it work? Blackwell put a "thing" onto Will that is invisible to everyone. He also put a mark on a lot of bills. Those who accept those bills become aware of the "thing" hovering around Will and thereby become afraid of him. Those who touch the bills subsequently are also, to a much lighter degree, affected. These are familiar and palpable metaphors: hovering, seeing, touching, receiving. I like that combination of the palpable and the indirect. The indirect manner gives it a sense of mystery; the strength of the metaphors (once you see them) gives it a sense of substance. The combination, I think and hope, is more effective than merely having someone snap their fingers over their head, shout "Runnum Awayum," and write that everyone bolted from the room.

That by itself isn't enough, though. Magic (and the magic in BoM explicitly) makes connections that are, from the point of view of science, arbitrary, and the arbitrary is always to a certain degree lacking in magic. For if anything can happen, there is no surprise, wonder or horror when it does.

How to make the magic less arbitrary without making it regular and scientific?

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III. Metaphor as Magic

The structure in BoM is metaphorical. The connections between elements and spells and artifacts and powers and their effects works imaginatively, and this is done by relying on the imagination's own tendency to group items into associative patterns. This is the secret to much poetry. Why are birds work as symbols of evil? Because bird = scavenger = carrion = death. The most "evil" birds are also black, aggressive, ugly and draped in feathers that recall funerary décor.

Not through conscious design, but intuition that has evolved into design, the magic in BoM works much the same way, through metaphorical connections. Thus, the Libra spells work through masks (disguise) and golems (ventriloquist dummies); and the latter, by being made with graveyard earth, suggest corpses and zombies. The point isn't that the "scientific magic" of the Libra requires organic material; the point is that the reader may pick up imaginatively on the associations and feel them.

This is true even at a general level. I've said quite a lot about sigils in order that they be suggestive of software programming--operating commands instantiating new structures within dumb material. Magical creatures too: Blackwell's guardian groups spiders, monkeys, vampires, and werewolves together. It's an invisible chimera, but each one overlaps with the others via some quality that renders the whole thing unified (though unseen): Long, grasping, climbing limbs (spiders, monkeys); body hair (monkeys, werewolves); teeth (vampires, werewolves; even monkeys and spiders to some degree); metamorphosis (vampires, werewolves). A snake would be a poor addition to this menagerie of qualities, since it poorly overlaps with them.

With these principles, the examples can be multiplied. The key is to realize the magic through suggestive, imaginative associations. The use of metaphorical associations also means there are limitations, which keep the characters' powers believable (because limited) and non-arbitrary.

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IV. The Metaphorical Magic of the Planets

The magic of the Stellae Errantes comes with an extra structural feature, in that it operates through metaphors that are tied together through planetary associations. These will not be readily apparent to a casual reader, but they can guide and structure an author's invention. I've taken them from C. S. Lewis, directly in the case of associated magical names (in the Space Trilogy), and indirectly from a recent scholarly interpretation ("Planet Narnia") of the Narnia books. It's a set of associations that derive from medieval cosmology (a better term than "astrology").

The planets existed in that cosmology as archetypes. One might (and this is a gross mischaracterization) think of them as counterparts to the categories in contemporary "personality quizzes." Certain characteristics are grouped together under a heading, and to put someone under that heading is to forecast and explain a lot of their behavior. For instance, "extroverts" (in our vocabulary) are expected to be loud, energetic, friendly, loving of company and adventure, and socially domineering. Something similar is going on with the medieval classification scheme, where the predicate "mercurial" will suggest and imply certain behaviors: quick-wittedness and changeability, among many others.

One of the (many) differences, though, between the medieval and contemporary schemes is that the medieval scheme is rather more detailed and works through associative and metaphorical patterns. Sol (the Sun), for instance, represents knowledge and learning, for light exposes secrets, and it is by light that we see. Simply think of the words "illumination" and "enlightenment" and you'll see how deeply the metaphors work in everyday English. The Sun, through its color, is also associated with gold; the equation also works because it connects one thing of value (gold) with another thing of value (knowledge). Knowledge, like gold, can be generously shared or miserably hoarded, though the Sun is far more often associated with the virtue of generosity, since it spills its light so abundantly.

Those who are associated with the Sun, then, are associated with knowledge and learning, and are usually given generous (in many senses of the word) personalities. Thus Joe Durras is blonde of hair and golden of tan, with a sunny and generous personality, and a prodigious intelligence. He has the gifts of Sol, but he also had the gifts of Mercury, the swift messenger of the gods. Swift: It is associated with speed. Messenger: it is associated with language and felicitous expression. All the planets have an associated metal, and Mercury's is quicksilver; with the latter's ability to easily divide and conjoin, Mercury is also associated with twins and crossroads. Again, Joe manifests these abilities and characteristics: He is changeable of mood, quick to leap to excited conclusions, and loves to talk. He can loosen or baffle tongues, move with supernatural speed, and cast an illusory twin of himself These qualities can be further symbolized or just imaginatively represented through characteristic items; in Joe's case, those would include books and scientific instruments (learning), vehicles (speed and movement), and musical instruments (music is also associated with Mercury).

Similarly with Frank, who is Mars (Malacandra) and Saturn (Lurga). He has gifts associated with war (Mars) as an ennobling activity (vigor, strength, discipline, self-sacrifice, chivalry) and with death (Saturn) as a purifying, culminating act (contemplation, penitence, redemption; the drawing to just and proper conclusions; the harvest and the fields turned to rest, reinvigoration and renewal). Objects associated with Frank should be implements of war (blades, arrows and armor--but not guns, artillery, and motorized devices, which are industrial instruments); instruments of harvest (scythes, millstones); funerary objects (gravestones, crematoria, urns, shovels). Mars was originally a vegetation god in mythology; that and Frank's saturnine interest in harvests combine to give him a strong connection to vegetation and vegetative cycles. Iron and lead are the metals associated with Mars and Saturn, and these further suggest durability, weight, pressure, strength. Places where these qualities and gifts manifest magically: the attack on Blackwell's, where millstones are dropped and immense pressures cause the house to buckle; the mailed fist that closes about Will's head; the blades that materialize in our hero's throat. In school, his reputation as a scholar is a function not of brilliance but his discipline and gifts for contemplation and concentration. He is saturnine, demanding, quiet, a giver and follower of orders.

(Both brothers, I should note, can and should have weaknesses, and these should be the converse of their strengths. Joe can be facile and too clever by at least one-and-a-half; a flibbertigibbet; so wrapped up in theory that he fails to notice plain facts; a vainglorious showoff. Frank can be truculent, suspicious, judgmental, abrasive and bullying. The brothers have not used many curses, anathemas, or withering assaults, but they are capable of such, and these should also be keyed to their qualities. Joe: blindness and madness. Frank: pestilence and decay.)

Will is the Moon (Sulva). He is a wanderer, a stray; footloose and irresponsible; undisciplined, unpredictable, an improviser of plans and intentions. He is the oblivious cause of events in the way that the stooge is the oblivious cause of mayhem in a slapstick farce. He appears and disappears. His association with the Moon explains why he has gone undiscovered by the Stellae for a very long time; it is in the nature of the Moon to go into eclipse and to wander along unknown paths. In his mature form, his gifts and talents will be associated with espionage (elusiveness, ambiguity, concealment) and acting (improvisation and the feigning of attitudes and talents). He is able to hide in plain sight, and can passively reflect those qualities that others wish to project upon him. He leaves no fingerprints or footprints; his seeming passivity lulls others into supposing him harmless, and Iago-like he can nudge others into encompassing his ends. Associated objects include masks and gloves; sponges; mazes, mirrors and shallow water. His metal is silver: lustrous but retiring, malleable. These abilities might magically manifest as a Zelig-like ability to fit into any group (without shapeshifting) by taking on a demeanor and personality and even the skills and talents that would win him entrance. Again, without shapeshifting, he could render himself so innocuous that even longtime friends might get into an otherwise empty elevator with him and not realize that he is the person standing next to them. He can influence the moods of others. In a relaxed state he is amiable, passive, melancholic; a daydreamer.

These planets and the others are also discussed in Section Four. That section talks about the magic as if it is literally true. This section, however, talks about the metaphors that go into crafting characters for the planets. This is the guide that one should consult when developing Stellae-like characters. This is helpful material for authors looking to channel their creativity; Section Four is for sharpening and shaping it so that it fits into the general scheme.

The other planets:

Jupiter (Glundandra): The qualities of kingliness: just rulership, magnanimity, happiness (in the sense of well-ordered being, which confers the emotion that has taken over for the original sense of the word). Associated objects are scepters, orbs, crowns, seals. The king's being manifests itself as his court; he gives everyone the place they deserve. This means giving them their duties, assigning them tasks to which they are suited (and which thereby will make them happy). Jupiter's metal is tin, which was once a noble metal; it now connotes cheap gimcrackery, and I've chosen to keep the latter association as a playful counterpoint to the majesty that might otherwise be somewhat ludicrous. The personality is majestic but kindly, a trifle sad and lonely, and taking its greatest joy in bringing happiness to others, not by playing Santa Claus but by demanding and drawing the best from them.

Venus (Perelandra): The qualities of fertility, creativity, and love. Associated objects are gardening instruments (plows and watering cans, potting sheds) and procreation (beds and haystacks in the case of literal procreation; fresh paper, clean brushes and pens in the case of creativity). Venus is a generating influence, not generation itself. Its presence is overwhelming and intoxicating. It creates synergies, drawing triplets, quartets and quintuplets from pairs; it draws harmonies out of mere conjunctions. Its metal is copper, which may suggest the rustic homey-ness of a fat and not-very-clean farmstead of amber fields, bronzed orchards, rutting pigs, and lots and lots of ruddy-faced children, each one the apple of their parents' eye. Personality: Earthy, ribald, goading without being nagging.

These qualities apparently have a long history in classical thought (though I've modified a few). The other planets are not similarly well-defined, and using some modern resources and my own imagination I've come up with these:

Uranus [Catilindria]: The qualities of creative destruction, of revolution and reformation. It is Darwin's planet, a principle not of progress or of conscious design, but the cause of such by levying challenges. It provokes and leaves others to bring improvement; it uproots corruption and decay not by prosecuting them but by destroying the environments in which they thrive. It is circulation and exchange. Associated objects would be wheels, dice, firecrackers, levers and crowbars, contraptions (the more haphazard and Rube Goldberg-like, the better). Metal: Uranium. Personality: Fissile, combustible, provoking, a thwarter of others.

Neptune [Eldibria]: The qualities of oceans. Ambiguous, tempestuous, changeable. Deceptive, for it hides layers and cross-currents, so that one never know when one has penetrated to the bottom; nor does what goes on at the bottom always have a determinative effect on the upper layers. Metamorphosis and transformation, but unhurried, rolling, and proceeding by regular (though unpredictable) steps. Associated objects would be taps, sinks, tubs, pools, cisterns; drinking glasses and punch bowls; clouds, vapor, steam. Spells should avoid Airbender-type nonsense, which is cinematic but unimaginative. Think of the Aquaman who taunts his persecutors by reminding them that 90% of their bodies are water and thus part of his province. The best spells would be those that can surprise as water can, by seeping or erupting from unexpected quarters. Psychological acuity--the ability to read and master the currents that run deeply through other people--would be another gift. Metal: Gallium (can be either solid or liquid within a comfortable-to-humans temperature range). Personality: Veiled and aloof, seemingly passive, but indefatigable and overwhelming when in movement.

Pluto [Kenadandra]: The qualities of industrialization. Not Vulcan in his workshop but Carnegie in his foundry. Titanic energies bent as purifying activity, turning raw dross into glittering, useful machinery. Associated objects: Cauldrons, furnaces, fuel and chemicals, pumps and valves and springs and pipes; natural objects would include ants and bees, volcanoes and hot springs. Metal: Nickel. Personality: Ambitious, masterful, a planner and organizer, a transformer of mass and inertia into muscle and purpose.

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V. The Ousiarchs

This is another concept taken over from Lewis and his treatment of the planets in the Space Trilogy, though I've altered it some respects. In Lewis, the ousiarchs really could be thought of as angelic spirits, and that's how they appeared in his books. I've cut back on that, to the point that their nature is rather mysterious (as, in truth, the nature of angels is rather mysterious in philosophical theology). It is extremely hard to describe them. But--

One very dry and imagination-killing way of putting it, is to think of them as rather like computer programs. Computers are not intelligent, and the programs are not intelligent either; but their behavior can be represented as "intelligent" and many times is best explained in just that way. We speak of computers doing things and trying to do things (like trying and succeeding or failing in launching a program), even though computers do not have intentions or desires, and certainly are not self-conscious.

The ousiarchs are rather like this. One must not think of them as angels or gods with personalities. They are more like what is left after the personality and consciousness has been subtracted from an angel or god. Strip Zeus of his jealousies and pettiness and salaciousness, his passions and his fears and his desires and intentions, leaving only the majesty and kingliness and sense of Olympian order, and what do you have? You have the ousiarch Glundandra.

Still, that's very misleading, for it suggests these things are lower than they are, and are purely mechanical, or (worse) that they are zombie-forms of the original gods. They are actually much higher than that. Here's another kind of comparison:

We think very highly of certain ideals and virtues, such as freedom and justice. Sometimes we make these concrete and personify them, as allegorical figures in stories. Either way, we imagine the concepts as being very high things indeed, timeless and eternal things which we would be better for studying and emulating, and whose existence we enjoy when they govern our lives. The ousiarchs are rather like that: They are timeless and eternal principles, but richer and more humane than such cold and abstract and bloodless notions as "justice" or "liberty," for they are the virtues of character: A man is better for embodying "justice," but he is more fully human when he embodies "joviality" or the virtues of the Sun, and he is blessed when he is under the influence of fortunate planets.

In "Book of Masks", the ousiarchs are these principles, but they also have a quasi-physical manifestation in this world, like the characters in an allegory, though without actual personalities. We can fall under their sway, or emulate them; and the Stellae can further emulate their qualities with magical "prodigies."