Carl Abrahamsson: Oh my God, it's the Devil!

"Satan has been the best friend the Church has ever had, as He has kept it in business all these years!" Thus wrote Anton LaVey in his The Satanic Bible in 1969. And how true that has been all through the centuries since that dire Church Council in Nice in 375 AD, when human decency and civilization took a considerable turn for the worse. Without the Devil as a terrifying scapegoat figure, the (mainly) Catholic Church would probably not have been able to secure its imperialistic ambitions.

No wonder then that Satan as a visual icon in our Western mythology comes mainly from a Catholic culture. From the Church-organized morality plays of the middle ages for the analphabetic proles, with villains lavishly dressed up as devils, and up until the massive Satanic onslaught in French 19th century decadent culture, there's always been only one protagonist that really matters: le Diable.

Two recent books have focused on a very interesting phenomenon: stereoscopic visions of life in Hell from late 19th century France. Diableries, A Trip to the Underworld: 19th Century Images of Satan and Hell, edited by Candice Black and Diableries: Stereoscopic Adventures in Hell by Brian May (yes, of Queen infamy), Denis Pellerin and Paula Fleming.

Both books touch upon the same series of images and both are genuine labors of love. I feel a little bit sorry for the A Trip to the Underworld people though, as their book is only in black and white, whereas the Brian May Diableries tome comes complete with color reproductions and a set of stereoscopic goggles. How can you beat that? But I still want to mention them both with admiration. Bringing attention to these truly WONDERFUL images deserves nothing but praise. And they both look stunningly good side by side on my "coffee table".

An interesting phenomenon, to say the least. The craze for stereoscopic experiences combined with an overabundant Christian love affair for all things infernal brought together the brilliant talents of clay artists, photographers, printers and opticians. And businessmen too of course – the Diableries series was massively successful at the time.

Of course the images bring to mind the genius of Ray Harryhausen and his stop-motion cinematic adventures 100 years later. The same kind of awe, but in motion. But for these devoutly Catholic people of 19th century France, the experience must have been even stronger than Hollywood special effects. There had simply been nothing like it before. Moralistic tales in fiction with infernal themes, yes. But here suddenly was a mind boggling visual experience that brought together amazement, prurience, heavy sinning and a great deal of fun. Only the most dim-witted and superstitious could have been scared by these infernal vistas, of course. The main consumer of the original Diableries, I suspect, just smiled and realized that Hell is perhaps not such a bad place after all.

Now, for Heaven's sake, buy both these books. Or go to Hell!