Biblio-What?
I’ll confess: I pretty much thought I knew most words starting with “biblio.” Books are, after all, both my vocation and my avocation, and I’m almost as happy to read about books as I am to read—well, the books themselves.
And then at a recent writers’ conference, the presenter suggested using bibliomancy as a tool. I nodded knowingly into my Zoom webcam while Googling furiously. Bibliomancy, I learned, is the practice of seeking spiritual insight by selecting a random passage from a book. And apparently I’m the last one to jump on to this particular streetcar.
The method is simple. You think or pray your question or intention, close your eyes, open the book at a random page, and point somewhere on the page. The line or passage you’ve pointed to is your answer.
The Qu’ran has been used this way for centuries. (Virgil was apparently a popular author for medieval bibiomancers!)
Some offer an even more specific modus operandi:
Pick a book you believe to hold truth.
Balance it on its spine; let it fall open.
With eyes closed, touch your finger to any random passage.
View the passage as wisdom to your future.
St. Francis of Assisi, to seek divine guidance, is said to have thrice opened to a random page of the book of Gospels in the church of St. Nicholas. (Each time he opened to a passage in which Christ told his disciples to leave their earthly belongings and follow him. Apparently Francis took it seriously.)
Because book owners frequently have favorite passages to which the books open themselves, some practitioners use dice or another randomizer to choose the page to be opened. This practice was formalized by the use of coins or yarrow stalks in consulting the I Ching. Tarot can also be considered a form of bibliomancy, with the main difference that the cards (pages) are unbound.
Another variant requires the selection of a random book from a library before selecting the random passage from that book. This also holds if a book has fallen down from a shelf on its own.
In Adventures in Woo-Woo (gotta love that title), Tommie Kelly writes, "The book I now use is the script of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. This is a perfect book for bibliomancy as it has plenty of short, quick lines that really lend themselves to this kind of work. In fact you can easily end up having easily having a conversation with it. The problem is that the personality of this book very much a smart arse, almost tricksters in spirit.
TOMMIE: Should I mention the name of the book I use in the newsletter?
BOOK: Why do you ask?
TOMMIE: Well, I am just concerned that it might in some way lessen the power of using the book for myself.
BOOK: Audiences know what to expect, and that is all they are prepared to believe in.
TOMMIE: So what you are saying is that If I believe it will lessen the power it will – otherwise it won’t?
BOOK: Find out!
“Like I said, this book is a bit of a smart arse. But it makes the experience more fun and enjoyable for me. So try it yourself and see what you come up with. Use a number of different books until you hit upon the perfect personality match. But remember, while it can be a bit of fun, you can get some great results using this method. The answers can be truly surprisingly insightful and helpful."
Okay. I’ll take Tommie’s word for it. I don’t even own a copy of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.
And—plunging even deeper into the unknown here—it turns out bibliomancy has a close cousin, chartomancy (from the Latin charta, meaning “paper”), the art and practice of divination by interpreting writings in literary or musical works, official papers, letters, manuscripts, documents, and so forth. Apparently words of wisdom and fortunetelling are everywhere!
Someone I know takes it a step further, and does the divination on the part of her characters, not herself. It’s an interesting way to plot, isn’t it? I can see it working particularly well if you’re stuck, and pacing around, and trying to figure out what happens next.
So I gave it a try. I asked the question, “Should Sydney find the body in the park?” I picked a random book off my shelf and focused on the plot point. The answer (from Bill Goldstein’s The World Broke in Two, if that’s relevant in any way) was, “He did not go outside the write this time—he needed no tree.”
Okay.
Wikipedia tells me that while authors may not be using bibliomancy as plot points, they certainly allow their characters to engage in the practice:
In Jules Verne’s Michael Strogoff (1876), Feofar Khan judged Michael Strogoff to blindness after pointing randomly in the Koran at the phrase: "And he will no more see the things of this earth.”
In The Book of Webster's (1993) by J. N. Williamson, the sociopathic protagonist Dell uses the dictionary to guide his actions.
In the short story "The Ash-tree" by M. R. James, bibliomancy is used to produce a warning message from the Bible.
The novel The First Verse by Barry McCrea tells the story of Niall Lenihan, a student who falls in with a cult whose members use “sortes” to guide them.
In The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick, every major character uses bibliomancy, mainly by casting yarrow stalks in conjunction with the I Ching.
In Wilkie Collins’ 1868 novel The Moonstone, narrator Gabriel Betteredge routinely practices bibliomancy using the pages of Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe.
In Lirael, by Garth Nix, The Black Book of Bibliomancy, a fake book, is mentioned.
In Augusten Burroughs' Running with Scissors, bibliomancy (referred to as "Bible-dipping") is used by one of the main characters.
The narrator of Graham Greene's Travels With My Aunt recounts that his late father used to practice bibliomancy with the writings of Walter Scott.
My favorite part of that list? The anecdote that Dick himself reportedly used this process to decide key points in the story, even blaming the I Ching for plot developments he didn’t particularly care for!
So… what do you think? Have you ever used bibliomancy? Is it something you might try? Let me know in the comments below!