The first time I had opened the Grimoire, a sickly scent clung to its leaves. It evoked memories of events I was unable fully to recall. Frustratingly elusive they were yet persistent; and, as I turned again in memory the faded leaves with their sprawling graphs and cyphers, they seemed to conjure some indefinable madness. Many were inscribed with impressions of distorted, vaguely human figures and what appeared to be aimlessly meandering maps. They were drawn in a dark coloured substance, with signs and place-names (?) picked out in scarlets and greens. There were also semblances of human heads set upon grotesquely arachnoid bodies - all in a warped perspective recalling a Caligari backdrop.
Kenneth Grant excerpt
From Against the Light (1997):