The Western Gate

The Secret Life of a Satanist
Blanche Barton
FeralHouse

At the outset I don’t know the full story behind Anton LAvey, his acrimonious split with his ex-partner Diane, the falling out with his daughter Zeena, and the story behind his twilight years relationship with Blanch Barton, who wrote this book. There’s two sides to every story of course.
The authorized (?) Biography is NOT a tome like the Confessions of Aleister Crowley, its fair to say, the biography only encompasses half the book and the rest is pretty much topics or subjects relating to Lavey and/or ‘Church of Satan’. Its pretty much, then, a wieldy pamphlet biography. This is a shame. Whatever opinions one has, he deserves a bit more than an afternoons quick read.
Lavey was a performer, theatre, musician, in that respect, we could argue he was just a performing artist under the guise of a magician, much like the so called wrestlers in the U.S. who perform rehearsed theatre, but then what exactly is our function in life? We all perform, we all act, we all have masks. LaVey chose to reveal himself as a maverick artist dancing the Nox fandango, accompanied by a hammond organ. Theatre and drama after all, is prerequisite in any ritual~ reflecting desire by means of music and movement, calls, colour, perfume et al. He was fundamental in upsetting the forbidden fruit apple cart with his Church of Satan and its mixture of Pseudo Anarchist and Self empowerment philosophies, they rang true with people who were ambivalent to the structures of organised hermetic societies/religion and dogma, and boring hippies. He created therefore his own society and thus developed his own dogma under the guise of freedom of will, the full expression of and embracing the ego rather than trying to suppress it. Welcome to the Den of Iniquity instead of the hovel of shame.
As a biography it is more a eulogy, a written admiration and there are no warts because, Lavey in the biography could do no wrong.
The exposé that he had an affair with Marilyn Monroe raises questions and doubts. They made love on the back seat of a box car in front of a couple of sleeping drunks, because Marilyn like to be an exhibitionist, apparently. There are no photographs of him and Marilyn together, at all. No letters from her to him, no gifts, cards or trophy items. I squint at the chapter, for though the relationship was brief, it was seen fit to dedicate a whole chapter to the episode, I um and err.
Of course the story regarding him and Jayne Mansfield (The trailertrash Monroe) are well documented, though again, whether it is was a full blown sexual liaison is open for debate. According to the biography, he and she did have a rampant old time, Jayne liked to be in uncompromising positions where there was a danger she might get caught, because, Jayne liked to be an exhibitionist ?
Lavey married Carole Lansing, she looked like A miniature Jayne Mansfield. Miniature because she was, (though the biography only states she was underage) 15 years old. ahem … though they had met the year before presumably …she was at the same age Priscilla Presley was when she met the Pelvis.
Anton created the church of Satan in 1966 and declared it year zero, it was on Walpurgisnacht night, and thus began the shenanigans and puppetry and circus freakshow that Anton resurrected from his previous jobs. Also enlisting a strange desire to keep big cats. And shock and wonder, Roll Up roll Up! feats your eyes. Yes, it was cabaret, burlesque and naughty naughtiness of course they came, the flock, marvelled by the doctrine of Do as You will and boot ’em in the bollocks if they don’t get out your way, nubile women strewn across an altar naked, … who could resist?
Lavey was by this time with Diane Hegarty , had a daughter who he adored, and who both worshipped him, though both of them in later life disowned him. There are two sides to every story as I said at the outset, we only have the argument from this biography that they became greedy and their acts were nothing more than betrayal.
The book lists a number of curses that LAvey, apparently, performed to his adversaries, all of whom we are led to believe died within a year usually in some ‘Final destination’ type shlock horror. Diane presumably however escaped this vengeance, instead Lavey allowed himself as a result of the rift to become weak and have all his possessions by law suits lost, and not a flick of a blackthorn wand was cast in her direction. Not a spell to destroy, not even to silence and banish. Nothing. God or Satan forbid a ritual of compassion. The Black pope who told everyone to be fierce and mighty, to admonish the naysyers just took it like a punchbag, like the proverbial weakling on the beach with sand kicked in his face. Had he given up the fight or, never got in the ring in the first place?
For all its praise and glorification the book leaves me wondering whether we are witness to nothing more than a showman and what exactly is it that Satanism promotes. Yes, I understand the Me, me, ME culture, but what vision of a culture exists beyond this? who will build the houses and maintain the roads if we all want a libertarian lifestyle of decadence and experience by pleasure. Lavey it could be argued through his life at one time or ultimately towards the end committed his own sins according to his own nine no-no’s ;-Stupidity. Pretentiousness. Solipsism. Self-deceit. Herd Conformity. Lack of Perspective. Forgetfulness of Past Orthodoxies. Counterproductive Pride. Modesty is not for a Satanist, less so acceptance of austerity, We all, from the Catholic Pope to the Hobo have insecurities, because we are human. The superhuman beloved of the Satanic creed and Nietzsche exits as a goal but our pride cannot accept the goal is wanting, forever wanting and a life of seeking to be the ultimate is wrought with angst and disappointment.
Much of the book deals with the Satanic philosophies, and many’s the fool who will gloat over them just as some do over the sound bytes of a political manifesto. Words are easy. Sentences to inspire, the Meme generation. Yes Meme. Me-me. Me !
These are the gloating’s and boasts and inaccuracies of a narcissist though we have to accept it as those of a showman. LaVey, according to the author unveiled the term psychic vampirism to the world, which has subsequently entered contemporary language parlance, oblivious that Dion Fortune wrote much of the same decades prior, and millennium before that Ol’King David was sucking the lifeforce out of any nubile concubine to keep him young.
We could as a frowning Satanist live in our own cloud of hubris, a shadow, a stranger on the outside. Even as a watcher.
As a watcher, I view Laveys life story with a sense of voyeurism, seeing the mighty rise and whimper. He refused in the main to do self promotion (?) which actually endeared me to him, though this created even more an allure of mystery and scandal…what has he to hide?
He is a character, fascinating at that, LaVey existed to become LaVey ! unfortunately life got in the way. He has left his mark, and others will follow as a result, his legacy being a church that like a church has structure and philosophy, and now also a life story~devoid of criticism~ to showcase it.
But.
I still find myself compelled to like him, and not in a critical sarcastic way, a maverick who did what every spotty teenage kid with a crumpled grimoire wants to do. Create his own ‘order’ even under the banner of disorder, live a flashy lifestyle with all the top fit ‘birds’ flocking to him, and command respect from the sycophants surrounding him.
Was he happy? Are you happy? in your modest house with an average partner, surviving. What is the alternative? We, after all, have the ability to hide, to be nothing, to be unknown and therefore free… truly free, its a paradox.
Lavey chose Me! Look at Me! the original influencer of thought and change, and he wanted everyone to look at him, and listen. I’ll sit here with my Vinyl records, books and guitars, a devoted wife who makes me laugh striving for nothing more, really, nothing evermore, quoth the Raven.
It’s not a very good biography. Maybe there shouldn’t be a book to do him justice because he deserved what he got, and I don’t know if he deserved it, Who knows, in theatreland the story is told by the narrator yelling at us to “Step Right Up”… some did and some knelt and others laughed, which is the direction in life we aspire to really, to have a bloody good giggle.
An objective book would however be good,
( ….though Crowley’s self-penned Bragging Confessions is still a riot despite some of it’s obvious bollocks.)
This book, and if it is a true reflection of LaVeys life didn’t raise hell, more a raised glass of bourbon and a feint nod of acknowledgement.

Header Artwork ~ The Last Judgment, Jan Van Eyck,  ca. 1440–1441