In _The Last Alchemist_ Iain McCalman takes a look at the life and times of the self-proclaimed ‘Count Alessandro Cagliostro’, one of the most famous (or infamous) of the occult adventurers of the 18th century. I’ve always had an interest in these intriguing figures: men who combined elements of the grifter, the priest, and the sorcerer in nearly equal measure in order to take advantage of the mania for the occult, especially as it grew out of freemasonry, that was sweeping across the Europe of the day. The book is presented as a non-fiction biography of the man born Guiseppe Balsamo in Palermo and who, though guile, street smarts, and sheer force of will, transformed himself into a variety of guises - from street tough, to military officer and diplomat, to aristocratic cabbalist.
I say that the book is “presented as a non-fiction biography” due to the approach McCalman takes with his text. While ostensibly non-fiction the text is written almost like a fictional novel (though it is a given that its main character is one worthy of such treatment). I don’t mean to impugn the veracity of any of the bare facts of Balsamo’s life as McCalman narrates them, but I often felt that he was somewhat free with his interpretation of them. One example is the way in which McCalman seems to take examples of Cagliostro’s apparent occult powers at face value, or at least makes no attempt at explaining them away rationally. Whether he discusses an apparently miraculous act of healing (many of which seem to have occurred), a séance to commune with the spirit world, or a prediction that seems to come true McCalman simply states the ‘facts’ and never asks what might actually be behind them. Perhaps this is simply academic rigour on his part: we have no idea how or why certain things appeared to confirm Cagliostro’s vaunted claims, so it is best not to speculate. Also adding to the ‘fictional’ aspect of the narrative is the fact that McCalman often speaks on behalf of his ‘characters’ by putting words in their mouths or thoughts in their heads. They may be perfectly suitable words or thoughts based on the context, but it still seemed a little free. It makes for an entertaining story that moves at a quick pace, but it also led me to wonder if he is was approaching the subject as a scholar or something closer to an apologist.
As we follow the adventurous life of Guiseppe Balsamo from the slums of Palermo to the palaces and drawing rooms of European nobility we are given the picture of a man of contradictions: was this former street tough merely a talented con man and sometimes violent criminal, or was he a true believer in the theories and powers which he ascribed to himself? Was he a product of his times or an antidote to them? How does one explain the cult of personality that grew up around such an unlikely centre, a cult that seemed based as much on what he was able to accomplish as what he promised?
McCalman tackles Balsamo/Cagliostro’s life by separating it into phases, each of which is given a separate chapter with a title that denotes the role he sees Balsamo filling at the time: Freemason, Necromancer, Shaman, etc. Sometimes these distinctions seem a little forced, but they help to give further structure to the narrative. We see how a young man with a penchant for chemistry and art, as well as a flair for the dramatic, parlayed these things into becoming a famed healer, spirit medium, alchemist, and freemason (not to mention con man, forger and supposed political radical). One of the most fascinating aspects of Cagliostro’s life is the relationship, both personal and professional, that he appears to have had with his wife Seraphina. Not only was she aware of his apparent subterfuges, she took an active part in them…a part that many would find both strange and distasteful. It appears as though Cagliostro willingly, and frequently, prostituted his wife to interested parties in order to gain their favour and influence. It does not appear that after whatever initial methods he used to encourage this behaviour that Seraphina seems to have minded. How do we explain this man’s willingness to prostitute his wife? Was her own apparent complicity due to acceptance or even desire on her part or was she forced into this by the realities of the time or the brutality of her husband? They certainly appear to have had a very complicated relationship as evidenced by the final role she played in his downfall. We also get interesting glimpses of numerous historical personages whose lives intersected with Cagliostro’s from Catherine the Great to that other famed rogue and adventurer Casanova.
Ultimately this was an interesting book and a fun read. I don’t know if I’d recommend it as the definitive academic study of the man of contradictions who called himself Count Cagliostro, but it gives a good overview of his life and times, with special attention given to the fervour for occultism and freemasonry that characterized the period.