Book Reviews
TOP REVIEWS FROM UNITED KINGDOM REGARDING THE MAP AND THE MANUSCRIPT
REVIEW
Not another meaningless book about landscape geometry - with allegedly arbitrary geographical points pointing to a hidden mystery in the Rennes-le-Château landscape.
These were my initial thoughts when i saw the Map and the Manuscript, the new book by author Simon Miles.
Not that i dont have a general interest in landscape geometry theories. As someone who studied Anthropology i find it fascinating that our ancestors could and did use their landscape, interacted with it and modelled it in to their daily lives. We also know that out ancestors used the stars and astronomical observations to map their landscapes and these studies are interesting in their own right too.
But does it really have anything to do with the so called Rennes-le-Château mystery?
Miles says he has discovered a mysterious zodiac format ‘.. based on a genuine ancient intervention in the landscape, a twelve-fold division inscribed geometrically into the earth. It has roots in deep antiquity. The Templars and others knew in the thirteenth century, and possibly much earlier, [they] knew of it and built their chateaux and churches on pre-existing, significant sites in the geometry. Knowledge of these landscape forms, and some of the cartographic properties evidently came in to the possession of Henri Boudet, in the late nineteenth century, in Rennes-les-Bains. He wrote about it as the Cromlech…’ [page 204].
He goes on to assert therefore that ‘…we have arrived at the hidden treasure concealed in Boudet’s map … it is the confirmation of the persistence into the modern world of knowledge of an ancient landscape form, of great antiquity, and of exquisite construction’.
Landscape geometry that was carried out through different ages? Used by different groups [and dated to structures from the Middle Ages and perhaps even earlier]? If so this raised an important question for me; is the Miles geometry interesting because it shows the extraordinary knowledge of our ancestors? Or is it important because it has been constructed for a specific reason? Or was the ancient knowledge adopted for a reason making both scenarios possible? Does this geometry exist?
Miles is a diligent, intelligent, interesting and knowledgeable researcher and writer. Diligent because he started with the theories Lincoln talked about in the Holy Place [and presented in the BBC Chronicle programmes] and set about checking every single assertion he made. He found that Lincoln had made several errors and on the way discovered a 45 degree alignment that he found highly significant. It suggested to him the possibility that ‘the original architects and builders of the structures [along that 45 degree line] intentionally arranged the spatial relationships between the locations’.
Miles had already referred to Jean Richer and his theories of Sacred Geometry, particularly in Greece. These background readings and investigations are what led Miles to apply and discover measures and maps that the ancients must have used in the area of the Two Rennes. This was to his utter dismay as he says he certainly wasn't looking for this!
It was then Miles became familiar with the poem, well known to all Rennes aficionados - Le Serpent Rouge. Mysterious and strange - no-one has ever offered a real solution to what this poem is about and how it relates to Rennes-le-Château. Miles asked all the questions other researchers have asked; who is the Grand Voyager, what are the 64 stones to be gathered, what is the ‘famous seal’, why is the Saint Sulpice meridian important? What actually is the point of LSR?
The book goes on to discover such answers.
What he has discovered is truly astonishing! It involves a zodiac - often thought to have been hinted at by Boudet and most certainly referred to in the work of Plantard and Chérisey. Miles presents his stunning theory on the origins of this zodiac within this work. He has discovered the way the trio Pierre Plantard, Gérard de Sède and Philippe de Chérisey carefully and over many years piece-meal directed us to certain discoveries within Le Serpent Rouge. And one is to realise that the mystery at Rennes-le-Château is really not there, but with Henri Boudet and his mysterious book, La Vrai Langue Celtique and his imaginary Cromlech.
Of course, seasoned and serious Rennes researchers already know this ….
For me the most astonishing discoveries and the aspect that constitutes the ‘game-changer’ label is Miles’ analysis of the Boudet map. Simply breathtaking and sublime. His discoveries are truly revelatory. Miles deconstructs the so-called Saunière parchments. The whole thing unravels in a seamless whole. A connected whole and what we need now is someone to come along and take up the baton Miles has thrown down!
All of this new research throws up interesting new questions. Difficult questions. Boudet used a code in his map. Why? The code is provable and not speculation. It is not vague. It is there to see. So why? What are the implications? Is it really to show us ancient knowledge he knew? Did he adopt this knowledge for his own reasons?
Will these ideas of Miles encounter resistance in the Rennes research community? I think they will. This resistance could simply be because it is difficult for the researchers in the Rennes-le-Chateau community to grasp what is happening here. One wrote to me; I am wary of those - including Henry Lincoln - who project precise geometric figures on any landscape in times when accurate measurement equipement didn't exist’. Others have mentioned about using the parchments in the Rennes Affair - saying that ‘we know - since 50 years now - [that they] are complete fabrications by Philippe de Chérisey, and this by his own admission'. Another has said - 'I am wary of people who release their first book and say "The book includes solutions to key riddles at the heart of mystery, first revealed.... We have seen so much... so much!…
I totally understand their scepticism.
But i ask one thing of researchers - that they give this book a chance .. like i did. You will be richly rewarded and rewarded in many ways you might not expect. It is not often that a book comes along in Rennes-le-Château studies which can come to be a game-changer … this book is one of them! It is a claim i make myself!
It may well require a paradigm shift. But there is always the persistent question, why? Why, one cries in exasperation. Why has Boudet encoded his map like this? Why is it that Plantard had this information? How did he come in to possession of it?
This book is going to take many years before it is fully understood and appreciated. It will take many readings. I read it regularly and find something new each time and appreciate and understand it more as i do so.
This is a serious and respectful piece of research, dare i say it a lifes' wor. It deserves to be read by the serious researchers and considered in its own right. But above all we have to thank Mr Miles for his tenacity & his dedication to pursue such a work. He deserves admiration for how he went about completing the task. And we also have to thank him for giving us such an exciting and rich read in our favourite subject and to the new areas of thought he has opened up … who can ask more of book?
You can BUY THE BOOK HERE
Beautifully written and absolutely fascinating!
Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on 22 November 2022
Simon Miles’ writing is wonderful to read, and all of his detailed research is so exciting to dive into, whether or not you are already familiar with the themes and topics. Definitely a book I didn’t want to put down as I was gripped on every page, absolutely loved it!!
Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on 7 August 2022
Everyone loves a mystery and the Mystery of Rennes-Le-Chateau and its surrounding landscape, once home to the Cathars and Templars, is one of the most enduring.
‘The Map and the Manuscript’, contains everything I love: secrets, cryptography, puzzles, riddles, geometry, wordplay and more. I felt I was taken on a journey which managed to inject fascinating new information and insights that I had never encountered in previous books or films on the subject.
It is thoroughly researched with great attention to detail, and I valued the fact that it is not written by someone who has visited a handful of times, or indeed never, but from someone who, through a series of synchronicities, came to reside there and speaks French.
I have never visited this part of France but Simon Miles’ powerfully evocative descriptions transported me to the location to the degree that I felt I could touch the landscapes he was describing. This is a book which will keep even those familiar with the various theories hooked to the end and it delivers a new and satisfying ‘hidden in plain sight’ solution to one the most intriguing mysteries of our time.
Top reviews from other countries
Christina G. Waldman5.0 out of 5 stars An Author's Literary QuestReviewed in the United States 🇺🇸 on 2 November 2022
"There are two villages bearing the name of Rennes in the foothills of the northern slopes of the Pyrenees, in the Languedoc, southern France. Though they are twinned by name, the pair could not be more different in aspect."
So the author, Simon M. Miles, begins his introduction to this book. And, while it is a book about a deep and ancient mystery involving these two villages, it is also the story of how an intelligent researcher goes about solving a riddle of grand scope. It took him twenty years. His tools included scientific knowledge, maps and books, intuition, and, of course, good sleuthing. His bio tells us he is an "independent author, researcher, and speaker" who "became a full-time writer in 2007," "after a successful business career in the field of scientific lasers." He is from Australia, now living in the U.K.
I knew nothing about the book’s subject matter when I first started reading it. I had heard of "Foucault's Pendulum" by Umberto Eco and Dan Brown's "The Da Vinci Code," two popular books which I understand touch on these mysteries, but had not read them. Nor had I heard of the French writers the author discusses whose works provided clues and context (whose names I will omit, so as not to give away any "spoilers"); but now, my curiosity is piqued. Miles discusses the prior literature, claiming that his book goes deeper into the topic than other writers have done to date, providing new information and solutions to some of its more mystifying aspects.
The author demonstrates a strong grasp of his book's subject matter. He manages to convey its detailed and sometimes complicated information in an engaging style. Matters of a technical nature, such as those discussed in chapter 15, must be dealt with (like showing your work in math class), but they will probably mean more to those with a scientific background than those such as myself. I confess, I skimmed a few pages here and there of this more-technical material. More to my liking was chapter 16 in which the author delved into Jung's ideas on the "artist as alchemist," metaphorically speaking. These later chapters helped me to understand why this topic mattered to the author and to relate to it more personally, as a person interested in literature, history, mythology, and puzzle-solving.
The author has provided abundant full-color diagrams and illustrations, and additional relevant material in five appendices (including a bibliography and expanded table of contents). I bought both the Kindle edition and the paperback (496 pages, of excellent quality). I had learned of the book in a forum discussion of an online group in which I participate. Some years ago, Miles wrote the foreword to a book I wrote. I enjoyed learning more about this ancient riddle whose secrets lay buried for so long, waiting to be discovered in the landscape, books, and maps.
A Summary and Review of Hugo Soskin’s The Cook, The Rat, and the Heretic: Living in the Shadow of Rennes-le-Château
(Chichester: Summersdale Publishers Ltd., 2008)
FROM THIS SITE HERE
Hugo Soskin is every bit as good a story teller as his father Henry Lincoln (originally Henry Soskin), but that he has chosen, for the most part, to write satirically and disrespectfully of what Henry has written about with considerable solemnity is just the first of the tell-tale signs that Hugo’s autobiographical tale probably should be read as classically Oedipal, even consciously and jokingly so, except that the mother in the classic triangle is mysteriously absent. There was a divorce, but Hugo claims that had nothing to do with it. Mother or no mother, if this book doesn’t kill Henry Lincoln and Lincoln’s mythic Rennes-le-Château, then nothing will.
The subtitle suggests that Hugo is tired of living “in the shadow” of Henry Lincoln or at least of the mountain of myth Henry has created and inspired (“myth” being a form of “truth,” by the way, not its opposite), but we are never given any clue as to how or why this Oedipal relationship began or developed, for Hugo’s story begins late in the game, as he’s entering middle age. All we see is the Oedipal slapstick sword delivering comic blow after comic blow upon the hapless father, usually referred to as “the Old Man,” seemingly in authorial acknowledgment of the Oedipal stereotype being played with. The motive for such blows seems as baseless as, say, Iago’s notorious envy in Othello, but the blows are delivered with such comic fury that we know it’s not baseless. Something happened to feed this fury, but we’re not told what. Friends and family probably know, but the general reader is left out.
But perhaps we can guess at part of it based on the facts of the case. Hugo describes himself as an old hippy, with enough, and frequently more than enough, drinking and drugging and “dropping out” to back it up. That would be enough to alienate any such son from an ambitious, hard-working, goal-oriented, historically-engaged father such as Henry Lincoln. Such traits also make Hugo fast friends with Rat Scabies, drummer for the punk rock band “The Damned,” when Rat enters the scene and justifies his place in the book’s title. Rat too has an upstanding and upward leading father, John Millar, president of the Saunière Society (often visited and lectured to by Henry Lincoln, Henry and John making a very imposing pair of old lions), and one senses Oedipal struggles in that relationship as well, although Rat has had a very successful career on his own terms and lately Rat seems to have made more peace with his father than Hugo has with his and has gotten more interested in the mythic Rennes-le-Château, becoming, in fact, Rat the Rabid Researcher. Rat also, very usefully, entertainingly, and somewhat ironically, rides shotgun on the fascinating, annual Saunière Society fall bus tours of the Rennes-le-Château region, which is where Hugo ran into him. See his own story in Rat Scabies and the Holy Grail: Can a Punk Rock Legend Find What Monty Python Couldn't?, written by Christopher Dawes.
Hugo Soskin’s story is that of an epic journey that stalled, with very entertaining consequences. Hugo and his wife Jan, childless and in their forties, decided to leave England one fine October and find a plot of land in sunny Spain where they could drop out and “live as self-sufficiently as possible.” Purchasing an old VW Campervan (almost as old as Oedipus!), they toddled on down through France towards Spain, determined to take their time and feel no pressure to get anywhere at any time. Good thing, in light of coming events! But when did this happen? Hugo is as vague and unconcerned about dates as his historically-engaged father is precise and deeply concerned about them, but since they enter that part of southern France round about Rennes-le-Château just after the area has suffered a devastating flood (yes, the flood that destroyed significant “evidence” about “The Mystery”), we can date the Soskin Hegira to 1994, although some of this has the feel of something that occurred later than that. Hugo himself writes in this book that this visit occurred about 25 years after his last visit to the area, in 1975, which would make it closer to 2000, but math is not one of Hugo’s strong suits either. Or is it just that poetic license has telescoped some of what happened over several years into less than one year? [Hugo has written by email to suggest that it was pressure from the publisher that caused the telescoping of ten years into one year, proving that the reign of the Aristotelian unities is far from over.]
Regardless, as our merry but frank, self-deprecating, and often caustic narrator tells the story, it just so happened that, after touring all round the area visiting Cathar and Knights Templar ruins and a brief, disappointing visit to now touristy Rennes-le-Château (largely a quiet, almost deserted village when last visited in 1975, a change which Hugo blames on “The Old Man” and which Henry Lincoln regrets as much as does his son), the Soskins fatefully stopped at a campsite restaurant named Moulin au Roc (mispronounced “Moolong” by its British proprietor), somewhere near RLC but its location unspecified in the book (it’s just east of Quillan; see www.mouli-dal-roc.eu), which had been seriously damaged in the flood, along with the house and several campsite appurtenances and amenities. Over much generously provided food and drink, they become such good buddies with its proprietor, a genial fellow Brit named Chris, who is so obviously having his own mid-life crisis and so obviously in need of help that the Soskins, always by nature responsive to the moment and kindred spirits anyway, couldn’t pass by. They spent several months helping Chris reestablish his restaurant and campsite (although of course room and board and I don’t know what else came with the volunteering), Hugo serving as cook (thus part of the book’s title) and Jan growing food in a nearby field as well as helping out in the kitchen, while Chris tended the bar. Hippies apparently can be hard-working cooks when sufficiently motivated, and Hugo’s long hours of slaving over a hot stove are said to have had much to do with the restaurant’s comeback. When the Soskins departed at the end of the season, again for Spain, they left behind a reasonably thriving restaurant, now become a favorite watering hole of many locals, and with much gratitude from Chris. Did they make it to Spain and realize their hippy dream of self-sufficiency? Hugo does not say in this book, but the book cover lists Gloucestershire as their current place of residence, and the rain in that plain is not the rain in Spain. [Hugo has emailed that they did make it to Spain, where they bought property, but, alas, they later divorced, and Jan is now firmly settled in New Zealand, whilst Hugo has left England once again and is now happily living near Luxor in Egypt, almost within walking distance of King’s Valley, where he seeks to capture the madness of that part of the world in presumably another debunking book.] Much of this book is devoted to the harum-scarum, make-it-up-as-you-go-along life led by this seemingly inexhaustible group of restaurateurs, who seem to sleep less than they drink, smoke pot, and engage in endlessly hilarious conversations, when they’re not working their butts off. What do they talk about? For one thing, they’re always mopping up after FUF, the Fuck-up Fairy, whom Hugo believes has been his constant companion since birth, and so they talk over all the misadventures and close calls FUF has caused. They’re pranksters as well, love a bit of good theater of that sort, and enjoy talking in a jokey, street-slangy sort of way, mostly about the oddballs they encounter, but a bit of sarcastic marital byplay among the Soskins entertains as well (but see the note above about the divorce!). Mind you that this is mostly in deadpan Brit-speak written for cognoscenti, so those not in the know have to gloss some of the vocabulary for themselves (“punters” are apparently customers, for example, but perhaps a little clueless as well) and resign ourselves to hearing that our heroes are always trying to “sort things out” or “work out” what 2 and 2 add up to. The book mercifully ends just as that lingo, so fresh-sounding and laughter-inducing most of the way, is beginning to be tiresome.
Not all the comedy is in the narrator’s inimitable way of expressing himself; much is in the action, from slapstick derring do to high comedy of no manners. One constantly amusing motif, and central to the book’s point, is the expectation of many they encounter, especially “Rennies,” that the son of Henry Lincoln will be privy to all sorts of inside information about “The Mystery of Rennes-le-Château,” and so there’s a lot of dodging on Hugo’s part that is sometimes positively athletic. Hugo sums it up on p. 13: “Why will nobody listen to me when I say I don’t give a tinker’s cuss about Saunière, Rennes and the Priory of Sion?” By page 315, we know why. Hugo is especially annoyed by those insistently referring to him as “Monsieur Lincoln,” even after being told repeatedly not to. “Soskin” is the family name, he repeatedly explains; “Lincoln” is only his father’s nom de plume, nothing to do with Hugo. I don’t know for certain, of course, but those wondering why Henry Soskin changed his name to “Lincoln” may have to look no further than the Jewishness of “Soskin,” which he probably didn’t think the bosses and patrons of BBC2, where he was a writer and presenter of documentaries, would care for as much as “Lincoln.” Lincoln Cathedral and all that. No mystery in that name change, then, if Henry was just a product of his unfriendly times. But this identity shuffle is interestingly evocative of all the bloodline speculations involved in “The Mystery,” in which messianic Jewish blood is imagined to flow, secretly, through all the royal houses of Europe and still waits to be acknowledged if not bowed to.
For 90% of the book we’re led to believe that Hugo couldn’t care less about that “Mystery,” and he goes out of his way to back that up with vast displays of ignorance and indifference, punctuated by frequent, irritated insistences that “it’s all rubbish.” But then he blows the whole case in the final chapter when, forced by Chris as a favor to a soon-to-be-departed-from dear friend, he spills the beans. In reviewing “The Mystery” for the benefit of Chris, Hugo reveals a considerable erudition and thoughtfulness that flat out contradicts the notion that he doesn’t give a tinker’s damn about it. He obviously either has read a lot of the Rennes literature or it just insinuated itself into his brain from an obvious, insinuating source, and it saturated his brain to the extent that he can’t help having thought about “The Mystery” a great deal. And he has a plausible explanation for much of it.
So what has Hugo “worked out”? Turns out it’s only his father’s emphasis upon historical connections and all the conspiracy theories developed from that that Hugo objects to. He thinks the factual foundation of the grand edifice of his father’s theories, endlessly added to and amended by others, was accidentally built up as a series of scam artists overshot the mark when they improvised whatever they needed to get what they wanted—a roof over her head in the case of the impoverished Marie Dénarnaud, a buyout in the case of the disappointed Noël Corbu, and a royal title in the case of Pierre Plantard and his Priory of Sion. Things just got out of hand at each step, as the stories invented by the scammers for their own narrow ends were expanded in significance a hundredfold by the Rennie dreamers who filled in the blanks with their own wish-fulfillment, connecting what was never meant to be connected.
But what about Saunière? Hugo thinks the priest, as recruited by mentor and fellow priest Boudet from next door Rennes-les-Bains, was even more devoted a monarchist in private than he was in public but learned from his early punishment on this score to keep his monarchist passions to himself, while allowing plotters and schemers for a monarchist restoration to use his isolated, mountaintop post for their secret headquarters, all of which redounded to his considerable material benefit. For Hugo, Saunière was just a small cog in a large (perhaps Habsburgian) machine that could afford to pay him handsomely for services rendered. When Marie years later embellished the Saunière story in a way calculated to draw in the greedy but romantic-minded and mystery-loving Corbu, who embellished it further for his own purposes, we were soon on our merry way to what Hugo thinks is the monstrous fabrication of “The Mystery of Rennes-le-Château.” And Henry Lincoln’s eventual decision to deepen “the Mystery” by finding octagonal patterns among the layouts of the area’s churches that suggest that Saunière’s playground was a “Holy Land” for millennia before on a grand scale Hugo treats as just a way for Henry and the Rennies to escape the need to prove their original case by moving “The Mystery” from one level of history to a much deeper and even less verifiable level.
Well argued, but there are many elements of this “Mystery” that Hugo, keeping it simple, doesn’t bother with, and there are several contradictions between his arguments and what seem to be the facts of the case. One contradiction is between Hugo’s notion that Saunière set up RLC as a secret headquarters for monarchists and the fact that Saunière deliberately called attention to the placethrough his rather gaudy building projects, which other researchers have speculated may have been intended as elements in the building of another Lourdes and which has certainly drawn the tourists since. Another contradiction is between Hugo’s idea that the monarchists lost interest in RLC after World War I because that war brought to an end any real hope of restoring the monarchy and the fact that Pierre Plantard and his Priory of Sion seemed very much to be monarchists, at least in their own behalf, into the 1960s and 1970s, apparently because they thought a fragmented, post-war Europe cried out for a United States of Europe ruled by a descendant of Jesus and King Merovée (founder of the Merovingian dynasty). Current authority figures having lost all legitimacy, Henry Lincoln speculated that we need to look elsewhere and deeper in history for that legitimacy.But perhaps the key contradiction arises from Hugo’s understanding of who is interested in this “Mystery.” At one point he identifies “Rennies” as God-hungry fools who are desperately trying to fill “The Void” of the modern post-war world with desperately-need “authority,” divinely sanctioned, as primarily supplied by the bloodline theory that implies that Jesus is still with us, which Hugo as atheist doesn’t see the need for. But when, looking for a third part to his title, “The Cook, The Rat, and The______,” he fills in the blank by labeling his father a “heretic,” he invites the realization that many of the Lincoln-inspired Rennies are indeed heretics, who want no more to do with the God Hugo doesn’t believe in than he does. Lincoln’s implicit argument in Holy Blood, Holy Grail is that you can be God-hungry without being a fool about it, that you can acknowledge the need for a United States of Europe, say, and even the need for leaders who would lead the nations toward that end who might succeed better if “hallowed” by history in some way, without falling for the next fascism or acceding to the discredited claim of holiness proffered by the Church. Then, too, the Rennies may be “believers,” but they’re very mixed in what they believe, and chief amongst them are the believers in disbelief, with his father leading the way by presenting us with a Saunière who was very short of being orthodox in whatever he was up to. Hugo acknowledges that realization with his last-minute salute to the Rennies “as twenty-first century heretics that, if they’d been around a few hundred years ago, would have been burnt at the sake for their non-conformist ideas.” Of course that was one of the central points of Henry Lincoln’s books. The Rennies in spirit were around hundreds of years ago and they were burnt at the stake! And many of today’s Rennies come to mourn their spiritual ancestors and try to make right what is historically wrong.
So why is Hugo Soskin so angry with Henry Lincoln? Hugo’s list of scammers – Marie, Corbu, Plantard – ends rather shockingly with Henry Lincoln, who wants immortality out of his scam. If we grant that pyramids are the ultimate symbol of immortality-lust, Hugo is implying that his father’s books amount to a pyramid scheme, with all the modern commercial implications of that along with immortality-lust. Henry Lincoln a Bernie Madoff of modern heresy? Well, Hugo knows he’s gone too far, because he ends the book with a series of cop-outs, summed up by: “I sure as hell ain’t saying that all the research has been a waste of time and effort.” Too little, too late, for we’ve already witnessed a public scorching of his father, however amusingly put. Based on this book, Hugo seems not ready to talk about what personal anger fuelled that, but in the meantime he certainly builds a good bonfire. And like any good writer he’s “immortalized” himself in the process.
R. F. Dietrich
9/11/09 © 2009