ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I should not have made my way down this intriguing road to the future—a possible future anyway—had it not been that Jon Graham, Acquisitions Editor of Inner Traditions, kindly suggested that I write a book about the “lascivious one,” or “Prunikos” (spellings vary): the Virgin-Whore goddess of wisdom, also known among some Gnostics as “Barbelo,” the real Mother, according to Sethian Gnostics, of Jesus, and all redeemed children of the “knowledge of the heart.” This grew into the present attempt to cover the entire aspect of sexual practices and erosophies of the first great Gnostic movement, with a mind to some of the inheritors of those extraordinarily daring traditions that answer the question: What is the true meaning of sex? Without Jon, this book would not exist.

I should also like to thank, for their help and encouragement, Samantha Roddick, who reminded me of the significance today of the Gnostic concept of androgyny for sexual freedom, and Jean Luke Epstein, for his generous, thoughtful spirit.

Trying to fathom the mystery of Barbelo provided happy cause to contact again the insightful David Tibet, this time in his role as Coptologist. He very astutely passed on my initial forays into the etymology of Barbelo to Coptologist and scholar of esotericism Professor Dylan M. Burns at Leipzig University and to fellow Coptologist Professor Hugo Lundhaug of Oslo University’s theology faculty. Their thoughtful, critical comments I found most helpful in focusing my research. They may still not approve of my conclusions—time will tell—but these conclusions are better presented and thought through thanks to their generous responses to David’s inquiry on my behalf.

I must make special mention of Paul Bembridge, my colleague at Exeter University’s Department of Western Esotericism. His response to an inquiry I put to him concerning William Blake’s golden riddle (as I have called it) was truly fabulous, and kick-started an even deeper probe into the startling world of seventeenth-century esoteric symbolism than I had anticipated. Thank you, Paul.

This book extends my work on the Gnostics, which now stretches back over thirty years and which has taken many forms: essays, books, TV documentaries, lectures, DVDs, music, and a number of movie scripts. In all that time, I have wonderful memories of conversing in depth with some of the greatest scholars on this subject who have ever lived. I am thinking of Hans Jonas, Gilles Quispel, Elaine Pagels, James M. Robinson, R. McLachlan Wilson, Kathleen Raine, Nicholas Goodrick-Clarke, Frank van Lamoen, and Christopher McIntosh.

In trying once more to understand the mystery that persists in understanding the Cathars and the troubadours, I think with fond affection of past conversations with Joost Ritman, Esther Ritman, Gérard Zuchetto, Anne Brenon, Michel Rocquebert, R. I. Moore, Columba Powell, and Heinz Reinhoffer. For Sasha Chaitow’s ready response to inquiries concerning the wonder that was Joséphin Péladan, I am truly grateful.

This book is really about the secret meaning of love, so I dedicate it to my wife, Joanna, and daughter, Merovée Sophia, for though I have written much, I could never find the words to express what you mean to me.