The Good Witch: Redefining Witches on TV and Defining the Witch I Want To Be

"The first step in a new direction doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be a step."
- Cassie Nightingale, 'The Good Witch'

As you might imagine if you've read my blog for any length of time, I'm not generally a Hallmark Channel sort of person. More like SyFy Channel or Chiller. There is one big exception to that however in the form of The Good Witch. For those unfamiliar, The Good Witch started as a 2008 made-for-tv movie, followed by a sequel, then additional movies each consecutive year through 2014, and starting in 2015 a television series that is  now going into its third season. If you like it it's a rather addictive thing to watch. I've been known to marathon the movies with my children. They won't be to everyone's taste, they are after all Hallmark Channel fair, saccharine sweet at times and melodramatic. But they are also I think a type of modern myth, subtly interwoven with magic in ways that don't so much ask us to suspend our disbelief as get us to forget we ever didn't believe that this kind of every day magic was possible. They also offer us a new vision of television witches that retains the mystery and functional magic but loses the supernatural.

The movies are based around the life of Cassie Nightingale, a woman with some serious magic although she's never explicitly identified as either a pagan or a witch (despite the title of the movies). It's an endless open ended question whether Cassie really is a witch, but its heavily implied that she is: she owns a store named Bell, Book, and Candle* that sells exactly the sorts of things any self-respecting witchy store would sell, from crystals to tinctures made by Cassie, from sage to occult(ish) jewelry; when people come to her for magical spells she never disappoints although she never exactly responds as you'd expect either; and of course she owns a supposedly haunted house and talks to animals and plants. She also has an uncanny knowledge of things, an ability to mysteriously appear, and owns a black cat named Isis. So its not hard to picture her as a witch, whether she calls herself that or not (and the title of the movies and show doesn't hurt either). But the most enchanting thing about Cassie is that she not only believes in the goodness of people but she has a way of bringing it out in them if it can be brought out. When there's a bad guy that needs to be dealt with Cassie's brand of subtle magic is still effective and more she has a way of letting events play out so that the antagonist orchestrates their own downfall. But that's rarely the outcome and that's one of the reasons I really like this show - because it demonstrates to us that the 'bad guys' are just people too, maybe people making bad choices, or people with difficult situations of their own, but usually in the end we see them as human beings who had reasons for what they were doing. And Cassie somehow finds ways to help them too if she can.

The television series is a bit different. It divides its focus between Cassie and her teenage daughter Grace, and to a lesser degree Cassie's cousin Abigail. They provide three views on magic, using it, having it, living with it. Cassie is much like she is in the movies of course, although we see her doing less of her actual magic, subtle as it was, and more of her intuitive knowing and helping people with that. Grace shares her mother's intuitive gift but struggles with it and the desire to be normal and fit in at school. And Abigail is the magical loose cannon who has power and uses it to her own advantage, rather than for others. Seeing all three is a great way to see, in action, the way that the different approaches play out in their lives without the show being overly or overtly preachy about it. They aren't perfect, they make mistakes, but the things they deal with are the same things we all deal with and their magic seems both plausible and natural.

In a way Cassie, Grace, and Abigail show how far we as witches have come on television. These witches aren't caricatures or supernatural beings, not witches in the school of Bewitched or Charmed, or even of the classic Bell, Book ,and Candle, with the idea of separation from humans and impossible magic, doomed in a way to always suffer for their power and to never really have a place in our world unless they give some part of that power up. Here we see witches as normal members of society, a business owner, an employee, a high school student, dealing with the same life problems everyone else has, from being bullied to needing to find a plumber. But the magic remains. The enchantment is still there. Not as a twitch of the nose or flick of the hand but as a focusing of the mind and setting of intentions. And I love that.

I really like Cassie's character in particular and I always have. If you asked me what it was that hooked me from the first movie and kept me hooked through the following 6 movies, tv special, and two seasons of the show, I would unequivocally answer that it was Cassie Nightingale. I think in a way Cassie is an expression of the ideal witch to me; she isn't afraid to use magic, often and powerfully, but she uses it wisely; she helps others; she is humble; she is kind and strong; and she sees the value in all the life around her, plants, animals, people, places. She brings out the best in everyone around her. She generally doesn't interfere in things that need to be left alone to play out on their own, but she always knows just when and where to step in. And somehow no matter what's going on she always sees the bigger pattern, like the World card in the tarot, and she always finds some silver lining to any situation she's dealing with. She's positive without being unrealistic, nurturing without being smothering, wise without being arrogant, enchanting without being fantastical. Cassie is a television witch for a modern age, but she is also the ideal of what we all could be.

I have no delusion that I am like Cassie. I think in practice I'm probably more like her cousin Abigail, and I'm honest enough to admit it. My witchcraft is fairy-ridden, gritty, muddy, moon-dark, smokey, and thorn-sharp; I'm probably more than a bit of those things myself on a good day. But I want to be more like Cassie, I really do. I deeply admire everything about her that I discussed before, from her boundless optimism and ability to see the good in any situation to her quiet wisdom and gentle way of transforming people into their best selves. And so I strive to be more Cassie-like, whether I succeed or fail at it. I hold her up as my ideal witch role model. And the beauty of The Good Witch and of Cassie herself is that she makes it feel possible to make that kind of magic and to be that kind of person. She makes it seem possible for us all to be like her in small ways and little steps.

I've always been a sucker for witchy themed movies and shows. I loved Practical Magic and The Craft. I have the entire series of Charmed on DVD. They are fiction, of course, and silly and sometimes wildly unrealistic, but I still love them. The Good Witch is different. Its different because its made to be something that could be real, rather than something where the supernatural is raising-the-dead, fighting demons fantasy. Cassie's magic always feels possible. Cassie's way with people feels natural. This is a story that seems like it could happen instead of something that belongs in the pages of a novel. I love it for that. And I love Cassie for inspiring me to want to be more like her, even if I'll always have a little Abigail and shenanigans going on.

Original pencil sketch M Daimler

*Bell, Book, and Candle is the name of a 1958 movie staring Kim Novak about witches in New York. One of the main plot points is that if a witch loves a mortal she loses her power forever.

Cáca Síofra - a Recipe from a Dream

Dreams - aislingí - are sometimes a way that I receive communication from spirits and the Good People, as are other more controlled means like journeywork. This would fall into the realm of what's usually called 'upg' or unverified personal gnosis in modern paganism. I have found a lot of value in the lessons and messages I get this way, but generally I find these things are too personal too share. Not always though. What follows is something I was explicitly told to share, for anyone else who might want to use it as well. 

I had a dream last night and in the dream I was shown how to make little offering cakes for the Daoine Eile. In the dream I was shown how to make them for the most part and the only thing I was told in words was the oat flour and the name of the cakes, so I'm guessing on the temperature and timing. If you try making them keep that in mind and adjust as necessary. Also I don't bake (or cook particularly well) so bare with my terrible attempt to convey how to do this from what I saw in the dream. They didn't look like modern cakes but were more dense and flat.

Cáca Síofra

3 eggs
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup oat flour

Stir up eggs until blended then add in honey, then slowly add flour. Pour into buttered or greased cake pan or divide into several smaller ramekins*. Cook at about 350 degrees F (176 C) for about 35 - 40 minutes for cake, 30 minutes for larger ramekin, 20 minutes for smaller. Take out of oven when the center seem done. Drizzle more honey on the top when cooled.

I'd mentioned this on my social media this morning and several people who actually can cook have suggested cooking them on a griddle like pancakes. I'm tried both ways, and am reporting the results below.

I tried them as griddle cakes and as little cakes in 2 sizes of ramekins. The batter is slightly thinner than a box cake mix (which is my usual go-to for baking) and seems runny but it cooks well. 
On the griddle they need to be cooked at a lower temp than normal pancakes would or they burn. I found that a medium low worked well after some experimenting.They cook very quickly.

In really small ramekins they only need 20 minutes in the oven at 350. In the slightly larger size (which was the size I saw in the dream) it was 30 minutes.

After cooking them I tried some to make sure they were fit to offer. Without honey they are ridiculously delicious. With honey on top they are too sweet for me, but that was how I saw them so that was how I made them to offer. Obviously my preference isn't the issue for offering cakes, but I did verify that they are edible, and in fact really good. They are also nice and simple to prepare, although they take a lot of honey. 

I'll be making these for offerings to the Daoine Eile on holy days from now on I think.


*I didn't know what these were, but I was looking for smaller cake pans and stumbled across them in the grocery store and they were the closest in size to what I had seen. I should also add here that I wouldn't recommend cooking these on or in anything made of iron. 

Book Review - The Knowing

I haven't done a book review in a long time, and as it happens I just read a new urban fantasy that I really liked, so it seemed like a good time to offer a review here. The book is 'The Knowing' by Kevan Manwaring and is available on ebook through amazon (there is no print edition at this point to my knowledge).

One of the better urban fantasies out there taking on the subject of traditional fairies in the modern world, 'The Knowing' stands apart from most fiction because of the amount of research that obviously went into it. The story is built on the actual history of Reverend Robert Kirk and his 17th century book 'The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns, and Fairies' but takes that history and then conjectures, what if? What if everything he wrote was true? What if Kirk actually was taken by the fairies, as folklore says he was? What if he is still their prisoner? And then it builds it's own story from there, creating a tale of one of Kirk's descendants, her own tragedy and struggles, and her own possibly inevitable entanglement with Fairy. 

Its hard not to get pulled into the tale, and I found myself quickly wanting to know what would happen to Janey, the main character, if she'd overcome her own personal challenges, if she'd win out in the end. The other characters also have stories that are intriguing, and its not often that I find myself as pulled in by the minor characters as the protagonist, but in this case I was just as invested in the tidbits about Kirk, and even Fingal and the Xaeveax. Actually I kind of found myself rooting for the Xaeveax even though they are they antagonists in the story. I also found the way the minor characters' points of view were woven into the larger tale interesting.

There are a few minor things an American reader might take issue with, points where its clear that the book, set mostly in America, wasn't written by someone intimately familiar with the culture, but the story is strong enough that I think that can be overlooked. If you aren't familiar with British terms for things, like solicitor for lawyer and flat for apartment, you may find it breaks your immersion a bit. However I do grade this one on a significant curve, given the enormous number of American authors who write material set in Ireland or the UK without any knowledge of those cultures and produce utterly culturally tone deaf pieces. With that in mind this book did very well in setting the story where it did, and the issues are mostly minor. 

The characters are likable and realistically flawed, quirky without being caricatures, and the fairies are true-to-folklore scary. I was impressed with how well the characterization was done, because I know how hard it is to write a character that isn't perfect and makes some big mistakes during the book but remains likable. I found that even when Janey was doing things that were rather cringeworthy I was still rooting for her to win out, and that said a lot to me about how invested I was in her. I was also really impressed with how well handled the fairies were, as in my opinion most urban fantasy (probably even my own) tends to over-humanize them but this one did not. They remained very alien in their actions and motives and felt very true to folklore even when put into a modern downtown city. 

Ultimately the story is one anyone familiar with folklore will know, because blends of Tam Lin and Thomas the Rhymer pulse just beneath the surface, cleverly hidden and reworked so that they are not obvious enough to make the story predictable. Yet they are still there, a nod at the old folklore, and a memory of every fairy tale and ballad where a brave woman must step up and save a man lost to Fairy. Like any good fairy-story The Knowing is ultimately about choices, and I found myself rooting for Janey to make the right ones to triumph in the end and win (or win back, perhaps?) the things she loved most. 

The Slua Sí

This week's blog is an excerpt from my forthcoming book Fairies, because of an experience my husband and I had last night.

We were sitting in our living room around 10 o'clock last night when the wind picked up suddenly, so strong and loud that I turned to my husband and noted that it was a bit scary. Then just as suddenly on the wind was the distinct sound of bells jingling, like you find on horses' harnesses sometimes, which really freaked me out, and I said, "Can you hear that?"

He said, "What? The bells? Yeah, what is that?"
And I honestly didn't know what to say because I knew it was probably the Slua or maybe a Fairy Rade and it was really scaring me.
But he pushed and was like, "I know you know more about this stuff than I do, what do you think it is?"
So I told him, "Not all fairies are nice."
He wanted to go out to smoke. I told him in all seriousness to be careful - mind you we live in the suburbs - and if he saw anything to come back in. He asked saw anything like what? And I said I didn't know like if he saw any horses. And he rolled his eyes and asked me several times why there would be a horse in our neighborhood? So I just kept saying if you see or hear one come back in right away.
He goes out, and within 90 seconds comes back in, because he saw a strange red light and could hear horses' hooves on the stone.
And now a few minutes later the wind is gone and its totally calm.
Also I had to give my husband a crash course on who the Slua Sí are and what to do in emergency situations like that.

So, on that note, a bit about the Slua sidhe....

Slua Sí

I have already mentioned that some fairies are more naturally kindly inclined towards us than others, and some are generally more malicious. Those that fall under the auspices of the Unseelie Court are generally feared but one type that is especially feared is the Slua sí [fairy host]. In Scottish folklore the most daunting fairies are those of the Sluagh (Briggs, 1976). The Slua travels in whirlwinds, or on the wind more generally and because of this the whirlwind is called the séideán sídhe [fairy blast] or sitheadh gaoithe [thrust of wind] and sometimes by the similar sounding name of sí gaoithe [fairy wind] (O hOgain, 1995; MacKillop, 1998). Usually invisible to mortal eyes while traveling in the form of a wind, in Scotland the Slua is also said to appear in the form of clouds (Carmichael, 1900). The Slua is most likely to be active at midnight and most often appears at night in general, but can show up at any time, sometimes startling farmers working in the fields (Evans Wentz, 1911). Anyone who had reason to be out at night, and more so if they were out alone, needed to be careful to avoid the fairy host.

The Slua sí were known to force a human to go along with them while they engaged in their malicious endeavors, making the unlucky person aid them in their activities (O Suilleabhain, 1967). These endeavors often included kidnapping other people including brides, a common theme in many different types of fairy stories, and doing the new victim mischief. Anyone caught out alone, especially at night, or in a place they shouldn't be in could be swept up by the Slua with little choice but to go along with the Fairy Host until they were released. People taken this way might be said to be "in the fairies" (O Suilleabhain, 1967). In folklore people taken by the Slua sí could be taken and left far away, sometimes in foreign countries with no option but to find their way slowly home, or else may be returned to the place where they were taken mostly unharmed. The Slua is utterly capricious in how they treat those they take.

There are also tales of those who were out walking at night and saw another person who had been or was being taken by the Slua, usually as the Slua was passing near the bystander. A folk method to get the Host to release anyone they may have taken is to throw the dust from the road, an iron knife, or your left shoe towards them while saying "This is yours; that is mine!" (McNeill, 1956).Those known to have been taken and released were gone to for advice relating to the fairies and seen as being quite knowledgeable about them, just as those who had more amicable relationships with the fairies were (O Suilleabhain, 1967).

The Slua may include fairy horses, hounds, and a variety of fairy beings, as well as the human dead. In Scotland some people believe that the Slua sí, who are also called the fairy host of the air, are spirits of those humans who died with unforgiven sins or filled with sin (McNeill, 1956; Briggs, 1976; Carmichael, 1900). Evans Wentz related stories of the Slua as both the mortal dead and as fallen angels, showing that the belief was not entirely clear-cut (Evans Wentz, 1911). In Irish folktales related by authors like Yeats and Hyde however the fairy host are distinct from the human dead and act like fairies in other tales, engaging in behavior such as stealing human brides to force them to wed members of their own group. ...[T]here is no simple division to be found here and it is likely that the Slua represent both fairies who were never human and some who may once have lived as humans but are now counted among the fairy host.

The fairy host, like other fairies, is usually invisible to humans but can be sensed in the appearance of a sudden wind and the sound of voices, armor clinking, or people shouting (O Suilleabhain, 1967). Hyde describes it in the story "Guleesh Na Guss Dhu" this way: "he heard a great noise coming like the sound of many people running together, and talking, and laughing, and making sport, and the sound went by him like a whirl of wind..." (Hyde, 1890, p 76). Some say the Slua appears as a dust devil which moves over roads and hedges as the Good Neighbors travel (JCHAS, 2010). When the whirlwind appeared people would react by averting their eyes, turning their backs, and praying, or else saying "Good luck to them, the ladies and gentlemen" (O hOgain, 1995; JCHAS, 2010, p. 319). This of course reflects the common practice of appeasing the more dangerous fairies both by speaking of them in polite, positive terms and also of wishing them well, giving a blessing in hopes they respond in kind. This was done to avert any harm caused by the close proximity of the Host and to hopefully avoid drawing their attention in a negative way. The sí gaoithe [fairy wind] which indicated the Slua was present, could bring illness or cause injury as it passed by, contributing to its fearsome reputation (MacKillop, 1998).

The Slua was known for being mercurial and prone to malicious behavior and unlike more sedentary types of Fair Folk they are not easily appeased but most often must be warded off, usually with iron, driven away, or out-witted. They are strongly associated with the Unseelie court and one Queen of the Unseelie, Nicnevin, in particular.


References:

MacKillop, J., (1998) A Dictionary of Celtic Mythology
McNeill, M (1956). The Silver Bough, volume 1
O Suilleabhain, S., (1967). Nosanna agus Piseoga na nGael
O hOgain, D., (1995) Irish Superstitions
Briggs, K., (1976). A Dictionary of Fairies
Carmichael, A., (1900) Carmina Gadelica
Evans Wentz, W., (1911). The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries
Hyde, D., (1890) Beside the Fire
JCHAS (2010) Journal of the Cork Historical and Archaeological Society

The Slua is sometimes seen as related to the idea seen on the continent of the Wild Hunt as spirits who travel the air and can take people.

Saint Patrick, Druids, and Snakes

This is a revised, updated edition of a blog I wrote 5 years ago now with added Jocelin of Furness.

One thing that modern paganism struggles with is history, both its context and accuracy. Many things that are taken as fact in paganism today are not actually supported by historic material, and many things that are believed to be ancient are really modern. This isn't always a judgment on these things, but it points to the ease with which inaccurate information can be proliferated and believed, especially when it has emotional appeal. One prime example of this within the Celtic pagan community is the idea that saint Patrick was some sort of genocidal maniac who slaughtered Druids and that the snakes he drove out in his stories were a metaphor for Druids. So let's take a look at the actual history. 

The historic saint Patrick was not actually Irish by birth. Back somewhere around the end of the 4th century in Britain - no one knows exactly where, except that it was likely on the coast - a boy was born to a wealthy Roman official named Calpurius (Awesome Stories, 2012). He was born into a Christian family but according to his later writings he didn't consider himself especially devout. When he was 16 he was kidnapped, along with many other people from his father's household, and taken into slavery in Ireland where he was made a shepherd (Saint Patrick, nd). Among the hills and sheep he found solace in his father's religion, before eventually escaping after 6 years and making his way, eventually, back to Britain where he joined the church (Awesome Stories, 2012). At some point he took the name Particius, later anglicized to Patrick, and decided that he had a calling from his God to return to Ireland to preach to the people there (Awesome Stories, 2012). 

Unlike the common belief though, Patrick wasn't the first Bishop in Ireland - there were several previous bishops including Palladius who was sent by the Pope in 429 (O hOgain, 1999). At this point in the early 5th century Ireland already had a small but settled Christian population complete with churches, monasteries, priests and bishops (O hOgain, 1999). What distinguished Patrick was that unlike the other Irish priests and bishops he did feel that evangelizing was important. Patrick returned to Ireland and traveled around trying to establish himself. He claims to have had some success and baptized "thousands" of people, although it is impossible to confirm or deny these claims. He also had many difficulties including, apparently, being accused of accepting money for baptisms as well taking other bribes and being beaten and robbed and repeatedly threatened with death (Saint Patrick, nd). Unlike the other Irish Christians of the time Patrick was an evangelist and did seek to convert people, but in his 30 years of ministry in Ireland he did not seem to have had any stunning success; probably because the Irish did not seem overly concerned with or threatened by Christianity and may have initially just incorporated it along with their pagan beliefs (Da Silva, 2009). After Patrick's death, most likely on March 17th 461, very little was written about him for several hundred years. The reality is, despite the later hype, he fell into relative obscurity. 

     Ireland remained pagan for at least another 200 years before the population became mostly Christian, and that was when the tale of Patrick really took off. In the 7th century, about 200 years after Patrick died, his hagiography was written, the Life of Saint Patrick by Muirchu maccu Mactheni, and the Patrick of Muirchu's story was very different than the historical Patrick. The historic Patrick and the Patrick of Miurchu's writing were so different in fact that modern scholars now differentiate between the two (Da Silva, 2009). Muirchu's Patrick was a bold, vindictive, confrontational, wonder-worker who preformed miracles and was said to have destroyed the Druids in Ireland (O hOgain, 1999). This mythic Patrick - unlike the humble historical Patrick who authored the Confessio - lost no opportunity to curse those who defied him or kill those who opposed him. In one of the stories in the Life of Saint Patrick, for example, the saint uses his God's "power" to crush a Druid's skull and calls an earthquake to kill many others (Da Silva, 2009). In another tale Patrick was said to have turned himself and his entire retinue into deer to escape pursuit. It should be pretty obvious that this is pure invention, something to appeal to a 7th century audience looking to hear about wonders and drama on par with the other Irish myths but not anything relating to actual events. In fact some scholars have pointed out that had Patrick actually gone in and tried to convert by the sword he would have ended up martyred for his trouble. To quote the excellent article by  Da Silva "It is clear that the pagan Irish would not have tolerated the behavior of the mythical Saint Patrick. There was no way Patrick could use coercion or the threat of force as part of his strategy to convert the pagans. E. A. Thompson writes that "the pagans were far too powerful and menacing . . . . And he was doubtlessly aware that if he gave any sign of trying to impose his views on the Irish pagans against their will, his mission would come to an abrupt and bloody end" (90)." (Da Silva, 2009). 
  
In the 12th century Patrick's story was written down again, this time by an English monk named Jocelin of Furness who specialized in writing hagiographies. He was known for taking existing material already written about saints and re-working it for the Anglo-Norman elite (Koch, 2005). His 'Life of Patrick' was written for several important Irish figures including the archbishop of Armagh and bishop of Down, and was typical of all of his works. It is in this book that we see for the first time the story of Patrick driving out the snakes, an idea which is strikingly similar to stories from the lives of other previous European saints particularly saint Hilare of France. As Jocelin claimed: "and by the power of his prayers he freed all these likewise from the plague of venomous reptiles. But other islands, the which had not believed at his preaching, still are cursed with the procreation of those poisonous creatures." (O'Leary, 1880). In other words Ireland doesn't have snakes because Patrick drove them out with his piety and his conversion of Ireland but since the rest of the world didn't listen to Patrick we all still have snakes. The reader should also note that according to Jocelin saint Patrick also found the staff of Jesus (yes that Jesus) while he was in Rome, and had a personal tete a tete with God himself in Jocelin's words "even as Moses" had and was assured that God would hear and answer all his prayers (O'Leary, 1880). I'll spare you the rest but let's just say it involves a lot of raising the dead - like a lot - a lot of Druids dying by Patrick's awesome prayers to God and tens of thousands of people converting. Which is my nice way of saying this is neither a trustworthy historical source nor one that shied away from Patrick slaying Druids with his mighty God-prayers, making metaphor really unnecessary. 

The point to all of this is that the Patrick we are familiar with today is mostly a mythic figure, created by a great public relations department. The historical Patrick didn't actually do very much and it wasn't until hundreds of years later, when politics in some of the churches he founded meant the need for a powerful figure, and the Church was looking to complete the conversion of the remaining pagans, that he was reinvented as the super-saint we know today. Many aspects of saint Patrick's story seem as well to involve the saint being inserted into older mythology, such as in some of the stories surrounding Lughnasa where saint Patrick takes over the role of Lugh in fighting off the forces of darkness and chaos to secure the harvest (MacNeill, 1962). This would have been a logical substitution over time as the new religion replaced the old. Beyond that I have my own idea about how a British born Roman ended up as the patron saint of Ireland, but that probably falls into the realm of a conspiracy theory so I'll leave it off this blog. 

    Why does all this matter to me? Well, for one I have always felt strongly that bad history does paganism no favors. For another thing I can't see any purpose to feeling outraged today over something that didn't even actually happen 1560 years ago, or for that matter demonizing someone who didn't actually do very much. I just don't see any point in buying into another faith's mythology in a way that creates feelings of anger and negativity in my own. I am an Irish-focused pagan and I know from studying history that both Irish paganism and Druidism went on well after Patrick, that his life as we know it today is just a fancy story made up to replace older myths, and that in the end Patrick has no more meaning to me than what I give him. Why should I give him power over my life by believing he was greater than he was? I admire his devotion to his own faith and his courage in going back to a country where he had been taken by force as a slave, but beyond that he's just another historical figure in a sea of historical figures. 

   Now on to the snakes. Another big aspect of Saint Patrick's day for pagans is the idea that the story of Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland was actually an allegory for his driving out of the Druids. This idea is pretty well integrated into media and common belief; many people repeat it and there are even modern celebrations of "All Snakes Day" in honor of the triumphant return of the modern Druids. Now,  I am all in favor of the snake as a modern symbol of Druids - plenty of wonderful symbolism there since snakes are energized by the sun and "reborn" each spring out of the earth after hibernating, eat little fluffy things, often are passed by unseen, not to mention the more obvious associations with wisdom and the historic Gaulish Druid's eggs -  and I think the idea of a modern All Snakes Day is pretty cool. The history though just isn't there for any connection either of Saint Patrick with snakes or of the story being about Druids. 

Firstly, Ireland hasn't had snakes since before the last ice age, so there never were any snakes to be driven out by anyone (National Zoo, n.d.). Second of all, and more importantly, common versions of the legend today say that he drove out the snakes and toads (toads being very rare and snakes as we've established being non-existent) (Banruadh, 2006). Jocelin's version has him driving out all the venomous reptiles (O'Leary, 1880). For people living in Ireland after Patrick this story would have been a great explanation of why those animals weren't in Ireland, because there is no reason to think the 7th century or 12th century stories were allegory. Quite frankly the rest of both of Patrick's hagiographies have him dueling Druids right and left, killing those who oppose him with callous righteousness, so why would the story suddenly get cryptic about him driving the Druids out? Every other page was proclaiming it proudly! No, this particular tidbit was always meant to be literal. The earliest reference I have found to anyone thinking the snakes meant Druids (and thanks to the friend who helped me find it) is in the Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries from 1911 where someone states that he believes based on a story that because a certain place was where the Druids last stronghold was and also the place Saint Patrick drove the snakes that the snakes must represent the Druids, but it's just faulty logic (Evans Wentz, 1911). The snakes in the story were just meant to be snakes, a way to explain why Ireland has none and also to give a solid real world example of Patrick's power. 

In saint Patrick's Confessio the man himself is pretty clear that he is uncertain if he had any real effect on Ireland, although he hopes that he did. It reads as a rather humble work written by a very normal person. The later hagiographies written 200 and 700 years after he died are utterly fanciful stories that re-cast the man into the role of a superhero for the Christian faith. They have Patrick murdering Druids with prayer, raising the dead, turning himself and his people into deer, and all manner of fantastic things, including the well known driving out of the snakes and the less well known casting out of demons. Later folklore would expand on this and eventually in the 19th century draw a direct link between the literal snakes and the literal historic Druids to create a modern metaphor that has gained enormous popularity. Its important to understand though that this metaphor is an entirely modern construction and that the history is layered and tells a very different story. As modern pagans I think we do ourselves a disservice to give too much attention to the myths of another religion, created as propaganda to both put down pagan beliefs long after the conversion and for complex political reasons within the Church itself. 

References:
http://www.awesomestories.com/religion/st-patrick-of-st-patricks-day/maewyn-succat--kidnapping-victim
Saint Patrick (n.d.) Saint Patrick's Confessio http://www.cin.org/patrick.html
O'Leary, J., (1880) The Most Ancient Lives of Saint Patrick Including the Life by Jocelin
 B. Da Silva (2009) Saint Patrick, the Irish Druids, and Ireland Conversion to Christianity https://web.archive.org/web/20160304072255/http://www.strangehorizons.com/2009/20090727/da_silva-a.shtml
D. O hOgain (1999) the Sacred Isle
Koch, J., (2005). Celtic Culture vol 1
M. MacNeill (1962) The Festival of Lughnasa
W. Y. Evans Wentz (1911). The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries
http://branruadh.blogspot.com/2006/03/so-i-have-promised-so-i-have-done.html
http://nationalzoo.si.edu/Animals/ReptilesAmphibians/NewsEvents/irelandsnakes.cfm

The Reality of Dreams

For many people dreaming can be an important aspect of spirituality. We dream, and after waking we seek meaning in our dreams. We look for interpretations, we try to decode symbols, we puzzle out each incident and occurrence, every word and conversation, seeking deeper meanings either from our subconscious or from higher powers using our sleeping mind to speak to us. And yet at least from a Western perspective this idea of decoding dreams is largely new, a filter that comes to our culture from modern psychology. There was a time before when dreams were seen as their own reality, and what happened in dreams was given the same weight and significance as what happened in the waking world.

In Old Irish the word aislinge means both dream and vision, and it used to be that the two concepts in most cultures - pagan and Christian - were not sharply divided as we might find them viewed today. A dream and a vision were two possible terms for the same experience, and both were things that occured when the spirit went somewhere or communicated with something while the body slept. In records we have of visionary experiences often the person relates being taken somewhere and directly seeing or participating in events which may be portentous or divine (in the case of Christian visions) or may involve the person being taken to Otherworlds (in the case of pagan dreams and later the dreams of the common people). The common thread that unites these narratives is the idea that what was seen and experienced was real and valid on its own merits and that this reality was tangible i.e. could have physical effects in the waking world. People might correctly predict an event based on what was seen in a dream-vision or they might wake with a physical token of their nighttime experiences, be that marks on their body or an actual item brought back from their wanderings*. 

It was not uncommon for a person, while dreaming, to travel to Fairy or to be contacted by Otherworldly spirits, or even for a person's spirit to travel out in this world. There was an implicit belief that what occured to and with us while we slept was just as real as what occured while we were awake. We find stories in mythology like the Aislinge Oenguso of a woman who appears to the deity Oengus at night while he dreams but has a noticeable physical effect on him and who has an unquestionable reality. In folklore there are stories of people who might spend years in the Otherworld while only moments passed here and they appeared to onlookers to be sleeping or in a trance. In one such story a man who seemed to sleep for a few minutes in a field experienced several years living in Fairy, enjoying a pleasant time there until he broke a taboo and was banished, finding himself sent back to the time and place he left. We also have stories of medieval witches who would be seen sleeping in their beds while they were simultaneously seen by other people elsewhere awake and active. It seemed that the soul was as busy at night as it had been during the day, the only difference being whether it made use of the body or not. 

The erosion of the value of dreaming would eventually begin with Christianity's attempt to control the powerful messages gained through dreams. This was done by creating a hierarchy wherein ecclesiastical dreams and visions were direct connections to God but the dreams and visions of the common people were delusions relegated to vulgar spirits, demons, and witches. Dreaming became a dangerous thing during the witchcraft persecutions; dreams were seen as a time when we could be opened up to unsavory influences and attacks, and when we ourselves might be out harming others and unable to offer any defense if accused of doing so. We see dreaming as a double edged sword, a weapon of the Church for control and an unsafe activity of those outside Church bounds. Dreaming slowly lost its sacredness entirely on the altar of rational thought and became nothing more than another aspect of the mind to be dissected. This desacralization of dreaming began the descent of the dream from something profound to something almost meaningless and difficult to interpret, an individual language that only the dreamer spoke, a puzzle to be solved. 

If we look at dreams and dreaming we might perhaps find that it is not dreams that have changed but only our own understanding of them. Our culture has trained us now to see dreams as trivial things, as the mind talking to itself and as the body's response to imbalance. Dreams can be a way for our mind to talk to itself and work out problems, of course, however dreams are complex and diverse and sometimes they are a way for our soul to connect or move outwards. Certainly not all dreams are journeys Elsewhere, but sleep is still the liminal gateway for our soul to travel out that it has always been. Dreams are still an opening for different spirits to communicate with us, a time when our minds are still and receptive in ways they often are not while we are awake. This idea of communication with spirits during dreams is very old and something we see in folklore with everything from ancestors to landspirits to the Good People to Gods. 

I have always personally believed in the reality of dreaming, and I think there is value in other people evaluating this concept more generally which is why I chose to write about it. Dreams are more than just stories our minds tell ourselves while we sleep, at least sometimes. Sometimes what we dream is as real as what we do in our waking life, and that matters because it means that we need to take dreaming a lot more seriously. It can be a gateway to Fairy, and other worlds besides, and what we do there can impact is here. We need to remember to protect ourselves, and that the same rules apply for safe travel in dreams as in meditations or spirit journeys. Because if dreams are real then we can be hurt in them, we can swear oaths in them, we can make mistakes in them that follow us back here; and we can earn blessings as well (its not all bad after all). 

Further Reading:

Lecouteux, C., (2003) Witches, Werewolves, and Fairies: shapeshifters and astral doubles in the middle ages

Bitel, L., (1991) "In Visu Noctis": Dreams in European Hagiography and Histories 

Briggs, K., (1976) Dictionary of Fairies

Evans-Wentz (1911) Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries

Firth Green, R., (2016) Elf Queens and Holy Friars

Aislinge Oenguso http://iso.ucc.ie/Aislinge-oenguso/Aislinge-oenguso-text.html

*I'm not going to address here the various scientific attempts to explain these phenomena. 

Cursework and 'Real' Witches

There's a new round of blogs and online commentary about how 'real witches don't hex' going around, spurred it appears by the recent call to hex a public figure and the support and backlash that garnered. The public call for mass hexwork got a lot of attention and the response across social media has been strong, not only about the subject of the hex and whether it's appropriate to hex a political leader, but whether cursework and hexing in general are acceptable to do. Not at all surprisingly there has been a strong thread of disapproval towards the practice and also a very public outcry proclaiming that 'real'* witches don't hex. Period. The end. A variety of arguments are put forth for why 'real' witches don't use baneful magic but generally it boils down to; 1) it's naughty and naughty magic only really hurts the person casting it; 2) hexes don't work anyway; or 3) a 'real' witch is wise enough to know better than to do naughty magic, because vague reasons. 
So let's take a look at this.  
 
I'm not going to speak to whether or not I'm real. I mean I do think a lot which I'm given to understand is one criteria of reality, but for all any of us know we could be a dream within a dream or characters in a story. So let's table the question of reality. I am sure that I'm a witch though, and I do hex. I've talked about it publicly before and I'm not ashamed of it; I don't think it should be done if you aren't willing to own up to doing it. So real or not real, I'm a witch and I hex. I guess that entitles me to an opinion on the subject. I've written about hexing before here and here because its a subject that I feel strongly about. I am not, however, out to convince anyone that they should or should not do it. I believe that it is up to each individual to decide for themselves whether cursework is something they are comfortable doing. What I do want though is to work towards removing the stigma around it that says anyone who hexes is a terrible, morally corrupt person; this is no more or less true than saying a member of the military or a martial artist is inherently violent and dangerous just because they have the skill set to cause harm and an ability to use it if necessary.  

Cursework is a specialty. It requires study just as much as healing or prophecy magic does, and I'd argue that to do it well you have to make it your focus, at least for a time. It isn't something you play with. It has its own rhythms and rules, its own flow and form. It's not for everyone, and not every witch needs to do it, just like anything else. Some people are vegetarians and some are omnivores; some are pacifists and some are fighters; some let energy work itself out and some hex. Different witches have different ethical approaches and beliefs that shape the acceptability of cursework and any kind of magic that  impacts other people's free will. For some people it will always be out of bounds and for others it will be acceptable within certain contexts. I certainly don't know anyone who does serious hexwork who takes it lightly or sees it as a game, for what that's worth. Rather the other people I know who do it approach it very soberly, and often as a last resort when other options have been exhausted. 

Hexing is not inherently dangerous and it isn't a practice that dooms the practitioner to suffer terrible consequences. It is no more or less dangerous to the person doing it than healing is, and just like healing the risk only comes in if the person makes a mistake, which can happen just as easily with blessing magic as baneful magic. I've been at this a long time and I've done more than one hex in my time - and done them knowing exactly what I'm doing and how to do it - and I have never once experienced any negative repercussions on myself, nor has my magic failed to achieve my goal, although it may work faster or slower or stronger than I intended which is exactly why it has to be done with care. This narrative that anyone who hexes will be awash in bad energy, usually described as karma but in the Western sense of instant consequences, is not something I have ever personally seen as true. And I say that as someone who has been practicing witchcraft since the early '90's and admits to hexing, binding, and banishing when necessary. Yes everything we do ultimately affects us but it is far more nuanced and subtle than do good = get equivalent good, do bad = get equivalent bad. And as I like to remind people good and bad are matters of perspective and we must always be careful in judging what is which, especially when it comes to our own actions. 

I've also seen a lot of anti-hex arguments that say that positive magic works but negative does not. By this logic healing spells work, but curses do not, because somehow what helps us and is judged good (remember what I said about judging) is effective but what is judged bad or harmful is seen as impossible or ineffective. It can't be both. Either they both work or neither does. We can't acknowledge the power of one and deny the power of the other, whether or not we ourselves participate in it. To me this just smacks of a way to reassure one's self that good magic works but naughty magic doesn't, as if the Universe only allowed goodness. I think it should be pretty self evident that nothing works that way. I'd also point out as an aside that no type of magic is any more or less addictive than any other, as that has also been mentioned as a reason not to hex. absolute power may corrupt absolutely but this isn't some fictional Dark Side of the Force we're talking about here, where even one slip into practicing it will mean your light saber turning red forever. This is reality, where people are nuanced and complicated and can be good people with functional ethics who still believe its okay to bind a stalker or punish a rapist using magic without plunging into uncontrolled all-Evil-all-the-time-ness.

The third main argument I've seen is that a 'real' witch is wise enough to know better than to hex or curse. Um, in all seriousness why? What exactly is so wrong in hexing or cursing that being 'real' enlightens you so much that you won't do it? Ignoring for a moment the enormous implied insult here that everyone who does hex is not only not a real witch but also unwise or uneducated I genuinely don't understand this argument. I'm impeding someone else's free will. Okay. I'm also impeding their free will when I get a restraining order or use mace to defend myself from a mugger, but I'm going to do both of those things if necessary too, and I don't see how defending myself against someone else's aggression isn't the best course. I suspect this ties back into the assumption that hexing is just done to be mean, but let me tell you something here, the hexing that I've done that falls into the bounds of cursework has usually** been done because I had exhausted all my other options and I was desperate. I or people I cared about were usually in physical danger or other serious situations were occurring that needed an immediate response but for which I had no options.

If you want to argue against hexing then argue against it from a moral standpoint making it clear that you are discussing your own morals or explain your own reasoning for not doing it, but don't use scare tactics that make the practice seem like magical Russian roulette. It isn't. If done with skill and knowledge hexing and cursing are powerful tools and can be useful to achieving goals that otherwise may not be achievable, especially relating to justice and some types of protection. I'm not saying it can't be misused just like anything else, of course, but it can and often is done well and safely for the practitioner. And effectively. And keep in mind that anything is judged good or bad purely based on our own perspective. There's nothing wrong with choosing not to hex because it goes against your own morals or makes you uncomfortable. That's fine. But there's also nothing wrong with deciding that you are morally comfortable with hexing.

 So can we please stop with this divisive 'real witches don't hex' stuff? Yes some 'real' witches do. And some don't. There is no one single type of witchcraft, no single ethic that unites all witches, no agreed on witchcraft code that defines who and what witches are based on what magic they do. What makes a person a real witch isn't whether or not they adhere to one particular moral viewpoint. And cursing and hexing whether anyone likes it or not are deeply ingrained in historic and traditional witchcraft, and in some forms of modern witchcraft as well. If your particular form or tradition of witchcraft doesn't do cursework, that's okay. Don't do it. But that doesn't give you or anyone else the right to dictate what other witches or witchcraft traditions, or other types of pagans who practice magic for that matter, can and cannot do, or should or should not do. Let us stop with the logical fallacies, the 'no true Scotsman' and the appeals to authority and tradition, that are being used to justify condemning anyone who does things differently or who we disagree with. Witchcraft is dazzlingly diverse in its variety and scope of practice. Let's try celebrating that, even when we don't agree with what other people do in their personal traditional magic, rather than condemning and trying to limit other people to conform to our own expectations and comfort zone. 

I am a witch. I hex. And I'm proud of the knowledge and skill it takes to do that well.


*I'm putting real in quotes here to convey sarcasm. I know that doesn't read well online but I can't type real witch in any seriousness.

**usually