Book Club

Hex

(Fagan, J.: Birlinn, 2022)

Reviewer: Marianne Hughes

CN: Hex contains detailed reference to rape, abuse, and sexual assault.

The Darkland Tales are a new series of short novels from modern Scottish authors. In the words of the publisher, they offer ‘dramatic retellings of stories from the nation’s history, myth, and legend […] viewed through a modern lens and alive to modern sensibilities.’

Jenni Hagan’s Hex is the second publication in the series, and she describes it as a ‘small offering’ in honour of Geillis Duncan, a fifteenyear-old girl accused of, and executed for, witchcraft on December 4 th , 1591.

The novel is set in a prison cell in Old Tolbooth, Edinburgh. The timeframe is the twelve hours from midnight till noon on December 4 th . The conversation is between Geillis, awaiting her fate in the cell, and Iris’ spirit/consciousness time-travelling across ether, time, and space from 2022. They share experiences and memories, demonstrating the commonalities in female experience across more than four hundred years.

Jenni Hagan’s creativity, humour, and poetic craft animate the story of Geillis’ short life, echoed in Iris’ life, and illustrate the dark events of the North Berwick trials in the time of King James VI. The cell is:

far below footfall, or taverns, or flats; below beds, or kitchens, or hugs, or hope … there is only one kind of weather in here – freezing cold and cloaked in darkness.

Hagan’s language is evocative of the desolation facing this young girl, Geillis. It conjures our connections to our ancestors and predecessors:

the ether is a tributary going out across the universe, and we can travel it in any direction— human bodies don’t live in bodies for so long.

Iris’ spirit travels to find the cell; she reflects on the power of the State, the King, and the ordinary people. She considers King James VI’s penchant for demonstrations of power, and the horrible ease with which accusations of witchcraft could be made. An accusation might be levelled, perhaps, after someone had assisted in healing another person; for being a widow; for a stillborn child; for being too tall; or for myriad unpredictable and inconsequential things.

Hagan’s use of humour in the dialogue between Geillis and Iris brings relief to this dark novel, but the real light of the novel is the connection the two women build.

Geillis’ voice takes centre stage as she paces her cell ‘as if it were the sandy paths near North Berwick beach … and the smell of the sea’, and she asks Iris about what women do hundreds of years hence. The two laugh together ‘wryly’ when Iris replies, ‘we look over our shoulder far too often.’

They go on to compare experiences, with Iris commenting on the significance of money and skin colour, and on newspapers reporting ‘gratuitous details of the murder of women’. Geillis gradually reveals her story of how her ‘master’, David Seaton— a bailiff in Tranent — saw the denunciation of Geillis’ healing and midwifery skills as a way for him to escape his debts (he was paid for his actions) and usurp the wealth of Euphame MacCalzean, a relative by marriage. As Geillis describes to Iris the rumours and the traumatising abuse Seaton has inflicted, Iris bears witness through listening, compassion, anger and understanding Geillis’ guilt at having falsely accused others— ‘at a point in torture you will say anything …’ Iris shares her own experiences, commenting on how men are ‘idolised as heroes in their communities’ and that:

I would like to reassure you that five hundred years from now the fine line of misogyny no longer elongates from uncomfortable to fatal, yet I cannot.

As well as sharing in conversation with Geillis, Iris channels imagination for her; providing warmth, nostalgic food dishes, cleanliness, and the sense of being held. The women tell each other stories that have passed between women through songs, through paintings, through overheard conversations, and through a female reimagining of the Garden of Eden myth. These simple comforts echo across time and space, and particularly resonate in this moment as people flee their homes in Ukraine.

Hagan expertly weaves a narrative demonstrating the danger of the ‘thought plague’ and draws attention to the incredible power of being believed— but also the devastating power of not being believed. The strength that Geillis draws from Iris believing her narrative is reflected in her ability to reframe her position:

my goodness, my heart, my ability to heal. That does not make me a witch. Just as his poverty and debt and disease and desire to destroy all that is good do not make him an agent of God.

Whether you know a little or a lot about these witch-hunting times, Hagan offers an insight that haunts long after the book is closed.

Spiritual Herbalism: The Magic and Medicine of the Plants

(Williams, J.: Aeon Books, 2022)

Reviewer: Forest Tuesday

Spiritualism and herbalism certainly share characteristics and values, but it is not often that a herbology publication will focus directly on the spiritual aspects of working with plants. The newest exception to this rule is Josh Williams’ debut publication. Williams begins by introducing the core principle of the work:

Something is missing from contemporary herbalism. Something so incredibly important that by missing it we are actually missing the most powerful, magical, and transformative blessings of the plant world. That all-important thing is relationship.

The personhood of plants, and the goal of creating a working relationship with the plant spirit, is the main focus of Spiritual Herbalism.

The structure of this book is somewhat unconventional, with each chapter split into two distinctive parts. The first part focuses on a specific plant and its properties; it gives little recipes, and offers a ritual than can be performed with the plant. In the second section of each chapter, Williams goes on to discuss a topic connected to spiritual practice, drawing a link between the plant and practice that may not be initially clear. This results in the first section of each chapter mirroring a familiar directory, whilst the second offers a more digestible reading narrative. The author describes his process thus:

Each chapter presents a topic in an initiatory way. This means that instead of offering a step-by-step as we would expect to see in a beginner’s book, I explore the idea for you, present it in ways that allow you some creative licence, and set up a flow that hopefully gives you direct realisations related to the topic at hand. This information is meant to be embodied and unpacked with each unique person who holds it.

This technique allows the author to create space for more nuanced explanations of spiritual practice, and creates a more accessible reading experience than a standard directory book, whilst still containing all the relevant information. As well as using an unconventional structure, Williams also brings his unique writing style to the text, favouring poetic language and evocative imagery. The poeticism can occasionally tip the scale towards self-indulgence, but on balance the writing style is very engaging.

The author has stated that, whilst his intention is that the book will provide the next step for people who have already experienced the basics of spiritual herbalism and have begun nourishing their own relationships with plants, his hope is that anyone interested in spiritual herbalism will find the book accessible. As someone with very little knowledge of spiritual herbalism myself, I did indeed find the book very accessible, and in fact more useful and practical than other beginner-type spirituality books that I have read in the past. I will admit to having had some initial reservations about the text, but I was pleasantly surprised. The author makes clear his intention to be respectful to other cultures and spiritual practices that use plants, and directly discusses cultural appropriation and ethical spiritual practice in the text. To the best of my knowledge and understanding, this has been successfully achieved. I also appreciated that the author spoke about spiritual herbalism in a holistic way. Coming in at 276 pages made from a mix of responsibly sourced materials, this is a hefty text to add to your herbology library, but I would certainly recommend it to anyone who is looking to expand their spiritual practice through nature.