All Good Things E-Book

Stephen Ellcock

• Herausgeber: September Publishing
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Stephen Ellcock brings the art gallery directly to the people with this eclectic collection of more than 240 inspiring images designed to stimulate, uplift and deliver joy. Designed to stimulate and inspire, All Good Things is an exciting, eclectic collection of over 200 images from world-leading museums as well as lesser-known collections. In a finely calibrated procession of image, quote and myth, Stephen Ellcock leads us through the Realms of Creation - from the Stars to the Seas, the Natural to the Supernatural - to give us his extraordinary world vision. A treasure trove of 3,000 years of artistic creation, scientific enquiry and pan-global magical, philosophical and religious traditions. The best of the world's beauty, creativity and curiosity in a single book. 'Stephen's collection of glorious images is one of the most reliably edifying and entertaining things in my day.' Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time Please note this is a fixed-format ebook with colour images and may not be well-suited for older e-readers.

Leseprobe

IN SEVERAL DECADES of image hunting  

and disseminating I have learned much  

about the human urge to make art out of  

our curiosity, exploration and discovery, and  

I have seen too the profound joy that such  

art can bring in others. I have specialised  

in the discovery of lesser-known art – drawn  

from archives and libraries, images made  

by scientists, mystics, visionaries and  

explorers as well as artists. This book, a  

lifetime in the making, takes its shape and  

title from the very first English encyclopedia  

– OMNE BONUM –

and explores our world and the human  

response to it one realm at a time, just as  

our forefathers did, the medieval scholars  

and monks who created those early books of  

knowledge and treasures.

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

First published in 2019 by September Publishing

Copyright © Stephen Ellcock 2019

Please also see Credits, Sources and Copyrightat the back of the book. We have made every attempt toascertain and contact rights holders. Please contact thepublishers direct with any comments or corrections:[email protected].

The right of Stephen Ellcock to be identified as the authorof this work has been asserted by him in accordance withthe Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may bereproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in anyform or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,recording or otherwise, without the prior permission ofthe copyright holder

Design by Friederike Huber

Printed in Poland on paper from responsibly managed,sustainable sources by Hussar Books

ISBN 978-1-912836-00-0

September Publishingwww.septemberpublishing.org

A L L

O M N E

G O O D

B O N U M

T H I N G S

COMPILED BY

STEPHEN

ELLCOCK

FOR JACKIEwho has shown me a pathwaythrough the patterns

CONTENTS

CREATING THE INFINITE ARCHIVE

INTRODUCTION

CREATION

IMAGES 1–8

THE FIRMAMENT

IMAGES 9–25

THE FACE OF THE WATERS

IMAGES 26–47

THE FACE OF THE EARTH

IMAGES 48–64

THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM

IMAGES 65–90

THE ANIMAL KINGDOM

IMAGES 91–117

THE HUMAN REALM

IMAGES 118–142

THE REALM OF SCIENCE AND THE SENSES

IMAGES 143–162

HEAVENLY BODIES

IMAGES 163–183

THE INVISIBLE WORLD

IMAGES 184–199

GODS AND MONSTERS

IMAGES 200–217

VISIONS OF ETERNITY

IMAGES 218–228

READING LIST

CREDITS, SOURCES AND COPYRIGHT

In all Things, all Things service do to all:And thus a Sand is Endless, though most small.And every Thing is truly Infinite,In its Relation deep and exquisite.

— Thomas Traherne (1636–74)

INTRODUCTION

CREATINGTHE INFINITEARCHIVE

I HAVE ALWAYS COLLECTED IMAGES,THE PROBLEM IS THAT FOR MOST OF MY LIFEI NEVER KNEW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM.

IN THE PAST I explained this compulsion  

away to myself as a search for pattern,  

meaning and a semblance of order in  

what has often been a ragged and disorderly  

existence, a defence mechanism for staving  

off chaos and dismay.

Like most children of the age of mass  

communication I became an obsessive  

consumer of images from the moment I  

learned to focus. A pre-school love of comics  

proved a gateway drug to the harder thrills  

of Marvel and DC comics and then, slightly  

later, the illicit, intoxicating, utopian visions  

of the then-thriving ‘underground’ press,  

followed closely by the dystopian grit of  

Punk-era fanzines. All of these multifarious  

publications, begged for, stolen, borrowed  

or bought with every last available penny of  

pocket money, unemployment cheque or  

student grant, were, however, merely grist  

for what was to become an all-consuming  

obsession. I would pore over every available  

item of newsprint searching for and tearing  

or cutting out any images that interested,  

inspired or startled me. I would do the  

same to my parents’ and grandparents’ news-  

papers and colour supplements, to my  

mother’s copies of She or Woman’s Own,  

my sister’s Jackies and Disco 45s, and to  

particular magazines my father naively  

assumed were discreetly hidden.

My unbridled butchery even extended to  

certain books.

The purpose of all of this vandalism was to  

provide me with the raw material for what  

my addled adolescent imagination initially  

conceived as a vast treasure store or infinite  

archive of images, which would be stored in  

hundreds, even thousands, of scrapbooks,  

or else assembled as gigantic, impossibly  

complex collages, all of which would even-  

tually evolve into a visual map of  

‘Everything’.

These unnervingly megalomaniac ten-  

dencies were obviously a source of distress  

and deep concern for my parents and I was,  

at various times, threatened with psych-  

iatrists, unspecified ‘outdoor activities’,  

Sunday school and membership of the Boy  

Scouts.

By the time I left home, I had accumulat-  

ed dozens of boxes, suitcases and bags of all  

descriptions crammed with tens of thousands  

of scraps and orphan images, many torn or  

cut from what are now incredibly valuable  

artefacts.

Encouraged by a couple of disapprov-  

ing, deeply unimpressed girlfriends and re-  

current bouts of ennui, I eventually aban-  

doned my doomed attempt at constructing a  

physical version of the kind of universal,  

labyrinthine library that had previously only  

existed in the imaginations of Jorge Luis  

Borges, M. C. Escher or Giovanni Battista  

Piranesi out of old copies of Oz, Howard  

the Duck and Ripped & Torn.

Still, I had at least managed to fill a few  

scrapbooks and even succeeded in cobbling  

together a collage or two along the way.

Sadly (or, perhaps, thankfully), at some  

point between my first free festival and my  

first eviction, I had either discarded, lost or  

abandoned this entire mouldering stockpile  

of scraps.

Over the course of the subsequent,  

chaotic decades, my obsession with patterns  

may have been sublimated but it never left  

me, it simply manifested itself in different  

ways.

I managed to blag a fairly successful  

living as a professional musician/uni-digit  

keyboard prodder for a while, in spite of the  

fact I possessed zero technical ability and no  

previous experience. I did, however, discover  

that I possessed a natural aptitude and flair  

for arrangement and production, which are,  

after all, forms of pattern-making.

After a few years of critical, peer and  

industry acclaim1 but widespread public  

indifference,2 the band I was a member  

of split/imploded/self-destructed in the  

messiest possible manner. Unwilling to  

spend my days trapped in dank east London  

basements programming hi-hats and  

quantising bass guitars, I found a job in a  

bookshop where, to the consternation and  

bemusement of long-suffering colleagues,  

I became obsessed with ‘merchandising’,  

display, the arrangement and disposition  

of books on shelves, and so on. Once again,  

a deep-seated pattern-making impulse  

manifesting itself – and incredibly, strangely  

rewarding … for a year or two, at least.

Then, at a moment of crisis, I lost sight  

of the patterns and the pathways through  

the patterns and I stupidly succumbed to  

disarray and dissolution. What followed was  

a textbook careering off the rails, complete  

with all the cliched and tedious dependencies,  

addictions, depravities and degradations  

that feature in the lexicon of boring mid-life  

dissipation.

When the inevitable crash and burn  

occurred I was homeless, alone, seriously ill  

and, according to eyewitnesses, ‘blue’. Bed-  

bound in unfamiliar homes for several  

months, I eventually succumbed to the  

constant encouragement and exhortations  

from sisters and exceptionally kind and  

well-meaning ‘friends’ I could barely recall,  

and signed up to Facebook.

I didn’t own a laptop or computer at the  

time and the emerging world of social media  

revealed through the prism of my ancient  

mobile phone was, for all its vaunted possi-  

bilities, bland and terribly mundane.  

Gradually, however, I began to create a  

network of connections and, as I did so, the  

realisation dawned on me that social media  

is as much a visual as a verbal medium.3

From that point on I decided to forget all  

about attempting witty badinage with total  

strangers and concentrate instead on visual  

communication and, most importantly, the  

creation of themed albums which can now  

feature thousands of related images.

Nothing could have prepared me for the as-  

tonishing and overwhelming response I have  

received over the course of the past ten years  

from hundreds of thousands of ‘friends’,  

followers and sundry strangers from every  

conceivable continent and country, all driven  

to find meaning, validation and solace in  

images.

For all the flaws, frustrations and neces-  

sary compromises involved in participation,  

social media would seem to provide the  

perfect launch pad for an Infinite Archive, a  

panoramic work, dynamic and interactive,  

encompassing the whole of creation, con-  

taining multiple pathways that a reader can  

enter at any point or reread many times.

This book is the next step and corner-  

stone in the construction of that Infinite  

Archive.

The title Omne Bonum/All Good Things  

is a homage to the first attempt at creating  

an English-language encyclopaedia by the  

fourteenth-century scribe James Le Palmer.  

Omne Bonum was intended to be a vast  

tome, a compilation of all the knowledge  

available to the author in his time. In the  

author’s words: ‘Virtually all good things  

[are] contained herein.’

Following James Le Palmer’s example  

and using images drawn from three thousand  

years of artistic creation, scientific enquiry  

and pan-global magical, philosophical and  

religious traditions, this book is designed as  

a visual journey from the beginning of Time  

to the vastness of the Eternity via all the  

realms of Creation: the four elements – Air,  

Water, Fire and Earth; the Vegetable, Animal  

and Human kingdoms; the wonders of  

Science; the Senses and the Heavens; and  

finally the spirit realm, Heaven, Hell and  

Infinity.

The images I have selected are but a few  

examples of our attempts to comprehend  

and visualise the Cosmos and our place  

within it. My deepest wish is to bring a little  

piece of Heaven down to Earth. Failing that,  

I would settle for giving anyone who visits  

these pages a glimpse of the wonder, beauty  

and mystery that still exist in the world  

around us.

Decades have passed since my manic-ob-  

sessive image-gathering days, and I and the  

World have experienced enormous changes,  

but I am still pretty much the same in many  

ways. I am still destitute, still pretty much  

unemployable, still ill, still ill-at-ease, still  

unwelcome in polite society and I am still  

collecting images, but at least I now know  

what to do with them …

1 OK, perhaps not universal ‘critical, peer and  

industry acclaim’, but still tilted towards the positive in spite  

of certain high-profile detractors. Let’s say 75 per cent  

‘critical, peer and industry acclaim’ for the sake of argument.  

2 Honourable exceptions, the indie stalwarts of  

Greece, Portugal, Belgium, Japan and maybe one or two  

other major-label ‘third-tier territories’.

3 Nobody ever seemed to suspect that, for the first  

eighteen months to two years I was posting on Facebook, I  

was using such an antediluvian phone (when I was out of  

my then office), that I literally could not see any of the links  

or images I was posting. It was pure guesswork (particularly  

risky in the case of YouTube clips from obscure Soviet  

archives).

In 1937, the following poem by Paul Valérywas engraved on the facade of the Musée del’Homme, Paris.

Il dépend de celui qui passeQue je sois tombe ou trésorQue je parle ou me taiseCeci ne tient qu’a toi.Ami, n’entre pas sans désir.

It depends on those who passWhether I am a tomb or treasureWhether I speak or am silentThe choice is yours alone.Friend, do not enter without desire.

IMAGES 1–8

CREATION

1 Black square representing the nothingness prior tothe universe from Utriusque Cosmi Maioris Scilicet EtMinoris Metaphysica by Robert Fludd (English, 1574–1637), Oppenheim, Germany, 1617

ACCORDING TO ANCIENT Chinese  

Daoist (or Taoist) tradition, the  

universe began as a formless, lifeless  

void. Over time, this void formed itself into  

a vast cosmic egg within which the opposing  

forces of Yin and Yang were hatched and the  

first living being, a furry, two-horned giant,  

known as Pangu, was conceived.

Oblivious to the primordial turmoil and  

chaos around him, Pangu slept for 18,000  

years and grew, and grew. Eventually, the  

Yin and the Yang resolved themselves into a  

perfect, miraculous equilibrium, and Pangu  

awoke.

Unnerved to find himself surrounded by  

utter darkness and total silence, he fashioned  

a magical axe from the energies around him  

and, with an almighty swing, sundered the  

shell of the cosmic egg in two, splitting Yin  

and Yang.

The upper half of the shell became the  

sky (Yang) and the lower half, the earth (Yin).  

Determined to keep the two halves of the  

egg apart, Pangu stood between them  

holding up the sky. With each day that  

passed, the sky rose ten feet above him and  

the layers of the earth increased by ten feet  

beneath him. In order to keep pace and the  

two worlds apart, Pangu himself was forced  

to grow by ten feet every single day.

2 The end of the First Book of Macrocosmic Principlesfrom Utriusque Cosmi Maioris Scilicet Et MinorisMetaphysica by Robert Fludd, Oppenheim, Germany, 1617

Pangu laboured heroically for 18,000  

years, until the realms were finally stabilised  

and then, exhausted by his efforts, he lay  

down and died, but death was not to be the  

end of him.

It is said that Pangu’s breath became the  

wind and the clouds, and his voice the sound  

of thunder. His gleaming left eye became the  

sun and his twinkling right eye, the moon.  

His hair and beard found homes in the  

heavens as the constellations and the Milky  

Way, his limbs formed themselves into  

mountain ranges and his flesh became the  

fertile soil which feeds all living things. His  

flowing blood became the rivers of the world  

and his sweat, the rain. His bones turned to  

gemstones, minerals and the precious  

treasures hidden underground; his fur  

became trees, forests and flora. It is even  

claimed that the fleas which once tormented  

him were scattered by the winds to become  

the common ancestors of every bird, fish  

and animal.

Pangu created the world around us and  

the heavenly worlds above us but Daoists  

also believe that his spirit animates and lives  

within every creature and every person that  

has ever walked upon the earth.

3 The Creation According to Genesis from TheNuremberg Chronicles (Liber Chronicarum), written byHartmann Schedel and illustrated with woodcuts byMichael Wolgemut, 1493Day four: the creation of the stars, the sun and the moon.

4 (a & b) Tantric paintings from Rajasthan, India,representing the Cosmic Egg (Brahmanda), artist(s)unknown, nineteenth or early twentieth century

5 Fiant Luminaria from De Aetatibus Mundi Imagines(The Illustrated Ages of the World) by Portuguese painter,historian, architect and humanist philosopher Francisco deHolanda (1517–84), 1545

6 Christine de Pizan and the Sibyl standing in a sphereof the cosmos, with the moon, sun and stars surroundingthem, from Le livre du chemin de long estude by Christinede Pizan, Paris, 1402–03

7 Creation of the Sun and the Moon from the BibleHistoriale, vol.1 by Master of Jean de Mandeville (active1350–70), France, c.1360–70

8De Aetatibus Mundi Imagines (The Illustrated Ages ofthe World) by Portuguese painter, historian, architect andhumanist philosopher Francisco de Holanda (1517–84), 1545

The creation of the world didnot occur at the beginning of time,it occurs every day.

— Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time, vol. 3, The Guermantes Way, 1925

IMAGES 9–25

THEFIRMAMENT

9 Astronomy: the Aurora Borealis, with Pine Trees inthe Foreground by Max Raebel, colour process print, 1909

Raebel visited Norway for several years to make pastelstudies of the aurora borealis.

IN THE TIME OF PRIMEVAL darkness  

and never-ending murk, before the  

miracle of Creation had occurred, the  

Maori god Rangi, the universal father and  

personification of the sky, fell in love with  

Papa, the goddess of the earth below. Utterly  

besotted, Rangi descended through the  

darkness to become one with Papa.

However, as is so often the case with  

l’amour fou, their loving embraces had  

unforeseen and catastrophic consequences.  

Rangi and Papa’s passionate writhing  

crushed and trapped the host of lesser gods,  

to whom they had given birth, between  

them – condemning them to an existence of  

misery and unrelenting gloom.

Nothing could grow or flourish in this  

dense, all-consuming darkness. The lesser  

gods, imprisoned between the sky and the  

earth, employed all their powers, skills and  

cunning in a desperate attempt to free  

themselves and separate their infatuated  

parents, but all their plots and schemes came  

to nothing.

Their plight became increasingly  

hopeless and their methods more extreme  

until, at last, Tāne, the personification of  

the forests, devised an ingenious solution.  

He commanded his vast army of tall and  

noble trees to raise Father Rangi far above  

Mother Papa, to set him on high and support  

him there for ever more.

So it was that Tāne successfully wrenched  

his parents apart, uplifting his father far  

above his mother, creating the arch of the  

sky and flooding the earth with life-giving  

light. Ever since that day, Rangi has remained  

in his own realm, gazing down lovingly at  

Papa, and all living beings owe their existence  

to the gifts they both give us every day.