What We Are Reading

The Subversive Stitch: Embroidery and the Making of the Feminine by Rozsika Parker  – chosen by Beth Ward

In The Subversive Stitch, Rozsika Parker explores with depth, clarity, and care the historical, reciprocal connection between cultural ideas of femininity and womanhood and the art of embroidery. She removes embroidery from its fusty context as a docile, grandmother-ly craft, and reminds readers of its mystical, ancient roots, of its use as a revered form of devotional art, and as an avenue for liberation for women bound by the oppressive gendered dictates of their time. Parker interrogates the near-magical duality of embroidery as an artform. Often employed by fathers, husbands, and male authority figures as an activity to keep women and girls submissive, quiet, and still, it instead became a catalytic tool for subversive storytelling, cultural movements, and social justice reform. The Subversive Stitch reminds us that a needle in the hands of the marginalized is as powerful as a pen, as a sword, and that it's been wielded in subversive and progressive ways since the time before time. 

In a Glass Darkly by Sheridan Le Fanu   – chosen by Sophia Adamowicz

While the sapphic vampire classic, Carmilla, has long captured the Gothic imagination, fewer readers may be familiar with Le Fanu’s tales of evil spirits. The volume, In a Glass Darkly, is presented as a selection of curious cases from the correspondence of Dr Hesselius, a physician with an interest in the “interior sense.” The multiple framing devices prove something of a barrier to enjoyment at times, but Le Fanu excels in portraying the relentless pursuit of demonic presence. A standout story is “Mr Justice Harbottle,” which centres around a corrupt judge with a penchant for “dubious jollifications”. After condemning a man to death for his personal gain, the judge is put on trial by a group of ghastly apparitions. Fans of M.R. James would particularly relish Le Fanu’s haunting descriptions.

ECODEVIANCE: (Soma)tics for the Future Wilderness by CAConrad (2014) – chosen by Elizabeth Kim

I have been a huge fan of CAConrad's work for years now, and forever grateful to include their work in our print magazine, as well as in Spiritus Mundi. I'm glad I didn't read ECODEVIANCE while commissioning and writing essays for SM; this poetry collection has a similar structure, but it's different in that it's a personal documentation of ritual and process. The poet describes rituals and then shares several poems that came out of these rituals. ECODEVIANCE is collaborative and pioneering and magical. These rituals helped bring CA back into their present moment and body and they may help readers find a new way to navigate the world. CA has said on Instagram they feel their poems in their bones and I feel them in mine, too. CAConrad is one of the best living poets.

 

 

Strange Relics: Stories of Archeology and the Supernatural, 1895–1954, Edited by Amara Thornton & Katy Soar – chosen by Jim Peters


With my past life as an archaeologist—and current role in museums—stories that deal with unearthing forgotten horrors always appeal to me and this short story collection does not disappoint. Featuring some well-thumbed stories, as well as introducing a few new names to look out for, this is a wonderfully curated collection whose artifacts would make a fascinating exhibition. Expect time-shifting binoculars, magical statuettes, cursed buildings and stonework, Roman remains, barrows, and tiles dripping in references to ancient beliefs, Gods, and religion. I love that even though I was familiar with several of these tales, they sat in a slightly different light being presented as archaeological stories amongst their own kind— for me that is always the mark of a really well-put-together anthology. Amara Thornton and Katy Soar have chosen a great variety of stories that read so well together accompanied by well-informed and useful notes and introductions.




The Dark Earth of Albion by Gareth Spark – chosen by Jim Peters

Plastic Brain Press is a creative and mind-expanding enterprise putting out collections of short stories and poetry that dabble into the dark side with a lysergic sense of the surreal—The Dark Earth of Albion is no exception. The individual stories in this collection of 13 short tales reveal a multitude of characters and nightmare-tinged settings from various moments in this land’s dark and twisted past, present, and maybe even our future. The disassociated, outsider feel of these tales is as potent as their link to some mysterious ancient invocation of the earth. Spark turns his hand to desolate industrial estates, wartime nightclubs, remote coastal villages, and muddy woodland clearings telling tales of abduction, apocalyptic survival, ancient rituals, Norse raids, biker gangs, and polar bears in Whitby. What carries through all of these short stories and briefly glimpsed vignettes is Spark’s delightful and delicious use of language. The words linger. There are no dark and satanic mills here. Instead, you are left with the impression that every mill is dark and satanic—or has the potential to be. The same goes for every cottage, wooded glade, derelict building, rain-darkened moor, and swollen brook.



The Courage to Create by Rollo May – chosen by Elizabeth Kim

Existential psychologist Rollo May comes from a similar school of thought to Viktor E Frankl, author of Man's Search for Meaning. May’s ideas about the importance of art and imagination for helping shape and create new worlds, and positioning the artist as a rebel and saint, felt validating. He draws on myth and warns of the antagonistic force of dogmatism to artistic process: “Dogmatism of all kinds--scientific, economic, moral, as well as political—are threatened by the creative freedom of the artist. This is necessarily and inevitably so. We cannot escape our anxiety over the fact that the artists together with creative persons of all sorts, are the possible destroyer of our nicely ordered systems.” He emphasises that much of what is worthy of being considered art will not be recognised as important in its time, but will potentially be seen as dangerous. His conception of the artist as a softly spoken—and sometimes neurotic—person willing to pull apart the seams of modern life stands in contrast to the modern conception of the artist as something akin to a salesman. “Creative people, as I see them, are distinguished by the fact that they can live with anxiety, even though a high price may be paid in terms of insecurity, sensitivity, and defenselessness for the gift of the ‘divine madness,' to borrow the term used by the classical Greeks. They do not run away from non-being, but by encountering and wrestling with it, force it to produce being. They knock on silence for an answering music; they pursue meaninglessness until they can force it to mean.”

 


The Language of Flowers, (1971 reprint) compiled and edited by Mrs.L.Burke – chosen by Jim Peters

While working on a story that requires me to know why certain trees or plants were planted, I turned to this old favourite. Listing a full alphabet of 680 plants alongside corresponding moods, thoughts, and feelings, the book enables you to help plan your coded floral presentation. Here is the charming introduction from the later reprint of this Victorian classic: "To express gratitude or affection by the gift of flowers is common enough, but nowadays few people make use of the opportunities provided by this pleasant custom to express other and more specific sentiments. For instance, how nice (and delightfully simple) to be able to express one’s constancy with a bunch of Bluebells, or to declare war with a spring of Wild Tansy!”




The Wolf and the Woodsman by Ava Reid  – chosen by Alex Epshtein

We seem to be in the age of retellings. Every time I enter a bookshop there is another rewritten and novelised myth. Whether it’s Greek, Norse, or Egyptian, the characters are familiar and comforting and the plot is often nostalgic; naturally, we are all drawn to those memories of childhood fondness. However, it is not often that I come across an accurately told story of Eastern European folklore, so I was surprised to stumble upon Reid’s The Wolf and the Woodsman. Drawing from Jewish mysticism and Hungarian folklore, this story follows a powerful young woman and ever determination to not only survive but live and thrive, in defiance of the tyranny that has encompassed her village. We follow her through the woods and she learns of the magical powers that hold her people hostage, and the powers that have the potential to liberate them. too. Reid’s debut is a stunning story, one enriched by a culture that’s rarely spoken about in mainstream media. I couldn’t put this book own. Now I too understand why people are so drawn to retellings. After all, as Reid eloquently writes in their book, “Stories are supposed to live longer than people.” 

 

 

Mycophilia: Revelations from the Weird World of Mushrooms (2011) by Eugenia Bone – chosen by Dr Elizabeth Dearnley


This autumn I’ve been attempting to learn more about identifying fungi, and have returned to a fascinating book recommended by a former student: Eugenia Bone’s delicious deep dive into the world of mushrooms and mushroom-hunters. Charting her initiation and adventures with mycological societies, fungi festivals, and mushroom enthusiasts around the world, alongside exploring the myriad ways in which fungi intertwine with all other life forms on earth, Bone’s infectiously enthusiastic and highly informative book will leave you salivating for truffles and morels and give you a fresh appreciation for fungi in all its weird and wonderful forms.


The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak  – chosen by Alex Epshtein

‘To immigrants and exiles everywhere, the up-rooted, the re-rooted, the rootless and to the trees we left behind, rooted in our memories.’ - Elif Shafak, The Island of Missing Trees 

As implied by her dedication, Shafak’s The Island of Missing Trees is an ode to what people call “home”. She writes about a young girl who grew up in Cypress, watching her dad nurture a fig tree in his garden. As the book progresses, the fig tree grows with her, from sapling to adolescence, its roots growing deeper and deeper into the ground as time goes on, until there comes a time to relocate. With this relocation comes war, loss, and pain. But there also comes hope, growth, and most importantly: love. Shafak explores all these emotions and events masterfully, through the eyes of those who experience them, and from the perspective of the fig tree, who has been there through it all. 




Letters of Fire and Other Unsettling Stories (1984) by Adèle Geras – chosen by Dr Elizabeth Dearnley


A recent project on uncanny dolls has led me back to this unbelievably creepy children’s book that made a lasting impression on me as a horror-loving child. Containing tales of vampiric music teachers, haunted television cameras, and an eerily beautiful child who may or may not have been made from stolen pieces of other girls’ dolls, this collection is every bit as unsettling as I remembered.


Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury  – chosen by Sophia Adamowicz

Bradbury’s vision of a culture numbed into submission by censorship of intellectual debate and book burning is a masterpiece of the dystopian canon. It crackles with nightmarish creations like the Mechanical Hound, a spider-legged robot that sniffs out dissenters and injects them with anaesthetising drugs. Ultimately, though, the book ends on a note of bittersweet hope, leading us to a society of outcasts who act as a living library. While some of the characters’ dire warnings may not chime harmoniously with this historical moment, the vivid imagery and fluidity of Bradbury’s language make Fahrenheit 451 a mesmerising exploration of intellectual freedom.




Heroes and Villains by Angela Carter – chosen by Cristina Ferrandez

Angela Carter’s trademark interplay between the familiar and the strange, the enchanting and the horrific, is in full force in this lesser-known novella from 1969. Heroes and Villains, like a lot of Carter’s work, draws from fairy tales and their tropes, which she subverts with a flourish. It is not entirely clear who the heroes and the villains are, but the reader follows young Marianne as she navigates a post-apocalyptic world and the resulting dangers, desires, and gender dynamics, all written in a prose that drips with sensuality.



The Leviathan, Rosie Andrews  – chosen by Sophia Adamowicz

In his notorious political work of 1651, Thomas Hobbes uses the leviathan as a symbol of the state, wherein individuals sacrifice personal freedoms in exchange for protection by a sovereign power. Andrews’s novel takes this symbol and literalises it; the leviathan becomes an invasive creature that rears its head at times of political discord and prophesies the end of days. The narrative twists and turns, slipping out of the reader’s grasp. What begins as a story of witch-finding in the English Civil War transforms into a meditation on the relationship between myth and history.  

Wake, Siren: Ovid Resung  by Nina MacLaughlin – chosen by Beth Ward

Wake, Siren by Nina MacLaughlin takes the old myths readers are so familiar with and defamiliarizes and disorients us in a stunning, irreverent, ferocious retelling centering a chorus of female voices. We hear Daphne's voice, Arachne's, Medusa's, Hecuba's, the Sirens and others, their stories pouring from their own mouths, not Ovid's. MacLaughlin gives them back to us. In the opening tale—Daphne's, whose father transformed her into a laurel tree to save her from an attempted rape by Apollo--Daphne speaks directly to us: "Open the cabinet. Move the cinnamon. Move the nutmeg. Move the coriander, the cardamom pods, the cumin, the cloves...There, the small jar with whole leaves the length of your pinky. Those are me, mine. I was the first of all laurel trees...But the way you know me now, I wasn't always this way. When I was young and in a different form than this, I kept what I understood quiet, but I understood so much." 

In one summary of the book, it's written, "seductresses and she-monsters, nymphs and demi-goddesses, populate Ovid's Metamorphoses. But what happens when the chase is tracked in the voice of the quarry? When the maiden coolly returns the seducer's gaze? When monstrous transfigurations come sung by those transformed?" MacLaughlin gives these answers to us in language, in prose that crackles, and fires, and shimmers, and sings. I could not have adored this book more. 

Folk by Zoe Gilbert chosen by Cristina Ferrandez

Folk is a wondrous mosaic of narratives all centred around the inhabitants of a village named Neverness. Gilbert skillfully weaves together a multitude of stories about the people, their traditions, and the momentous events of their lives, building up a picture of a place where the uncanny lurks around every corner. Neverness feels like a place taken straight out of our collective unconscious; there are echoes of folkloric traditions that may be familiar to the reader, but the resulting stories are singular and strange. Gilbert’s prose is masterful and the book is a joy to read.

What is Paleolithic Art? by Jean Clottes - chosen by Elizabeth Kim


Where did we come from, and where are we going? Art has sought to answer this question before the written word. In the occult, people often look to lineage narratives to determine the credibility and merit of various practices and beliefs. But it is perhaps in the earliest art we find something primal and shared. Jean Clottes is one of the world’s leading experts on cave paintings. This book puts forward a compelling scholarly argument for a shamanic origin of these strange paintings of animals, geometric patterns, and designs. One cannot help but re-evaluate anthropocentric ideas about the world when confronted by the shadowier pantheons inhabited by these early artists, that centred on the nonhuman as much as the human. 

Witchbody: A Graphic Novel (2019) by Sabrina Scott – chosen by Dr Elizabeth Dearnley

This gorgeous, tactile, risograph-printed book explores and celebrates the magic hidden in everyday things, from coffee cups to computer cables, as well as exploring the relationship between human and nonhuman worlds in magical practice, and warning against the human exceptionalism which creates ecological crises: “Denying the meaning, materiality and agency of bodies that do not take human shape has been one of the biggest human contributions to environmental crisis.” Scott’s sinuously sensuous illustrations swirl her narrative together into a thought-provoking and energising meditation on witchcraft, the body, and the importance of magical collaboration.

Legends of Sir Francis Drake

Source: Anna Eliza Bray, A Description of the Parts of Devonshire Bordering on the Tamar and the Tavy, 1836, vol. 2, pp. 170–75.

narrator: Unknown, Devon.
type: III ML8005 ‘The Soldier’s Return’.

I

One day whilst Sir Francis Drake was playing at the game of Kales on the Hoe at Plymouth, it was announced to him that a foreign fleet (the Armada, I suppose) was sailing into the harbour close by. He showed no alarm at the intelligence, but persisted in playing out his game. When this was concluded, he ordered a large block of timber and a hatchet to be brought to him. He bared his arms, took the axe in hand and manfully chopped up the wood into sundry smaller blocks. These he hurled into the sea, while, at his command, every block arose a fire-ship; and, within a short space of time, a general destruction of the enemy’s fleet took place in consequence of the irresistible strength of those vessels he had called up to ‘flame amazement’ on the foes of Elizabeth and of England.

II

The people of Plymouth were so destitute of water in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, that they were obliged to send their clothes to Plympton to be washed in fresh water. Sir Francis Drake resolved to rid them of this inconvenience. So he called for his horse, mounted, rode to Dartmoor, and hunted about till he found a very fine spring. Having fixed on one that would suit his purpose, he gave a smart lash to his horse’s side, pronouncing as he did so some magical words, when off went the animal as fast as he could gallop, and the stream followed his heels all the way into the town.

III

The good people here say that whilst the ‘old warrior’ was abroad, his lady, not hearing from him for seven years, considered he must be dead, and that she was free to marry again. Her choice was made – the nuptial day fixed, and the parties had assembled in the church. Now it so happened that at this very hour

Sir Francis Drake was at the antipodes of Devonshire, and one of his spirits, who let him know from time to time how things went on in England, whispered in his ear in what manner he was about to lose his wife. Sir Francis rose up in haste, charged one of his great guns, and sent off a cannon ball so truly aimed that it shot up right through the globe, forced its way into the church, and fell with a loud explosion between the lady and her intended bride-groom.

Iv

The story says that whilst he was once sailing in foreign seas he had on board the vessel a boy of uncommonly quick parts. In order to put them to the proof, Sir Francis questioned the youth and bade him tell what might be their antipodes at that moment. The boy without hesitation told him Barton Place (for so Buck-land Abbey was then called), the Admiral’s own mansion in his native county. After the ship had made some further progress Sir Francis repeated his question, and the answer he received was, that they were then at the antipodes of London Bridge. Drake, surprised at the accuracy of the boy’s knowledge, exclaimed ‘Hast thou, too, a devil? If I let thee live, there will be one a greater man than I am in the world’; and, so saying, he threw the lad overboard into the sea, where he perished.

Anna Bray’s survey of Devon lore, couched as a series of letters to Robert Southey, is one of the first and fullest of such local investigations, though marred by the author’s somewhat high-flown style. These anecdotes of Drake as necromancer show romantic legend accreting to an heroic figure. Mrs Bray quotes Southey’s response to her letter on Drake, in which he gives a slightly different account of the interrupted wedding. In this Sir Francis returns as a beggar to ask alms from his wife, but is recognized by his smile: an incident, as Southey notes, ‘borrowed from Guy, Earl of Warwick . . . and other romances’. Southey quotes Lope de Vega as saying that he had heard of Drake’s dealings with the Devil while serving in the Armada, from soldiers who had been prisoners in England. Among other legends touched on by Mrs Bray is one that Drake offered to make his home town of Tavistock, which is fourteen miles inland, into a sea- port, in return for a coveted estate. Further legends of Drake can be found in J. R. W. Coxhead’s The Devil in Devon (1967, p. 9) and Briggs and Tongue’s Folktales of England (1965, p. 94).

Legends of Sir Francis Drake was extracted from Neil Philip’s The Watkins Book of English Folktales, priced £14.99. Available from 11th October on Amazon and in all good book stores. Giveaway via our Instagram and Patreon.

June Book Club: Hex by Jenni Fagan

Our next book club is hybrid! Join us online or in the wonderful Typewronger Books, Edinburgh on 6th June at 7 pm to discuss our next read, Hex by Jenni Fagan.

Hex tells the poignant tale behind the North Berwick Witch Trials. At 112 pages, it can be devoured in less than two hours but it may well stay with you for much longer. This novel has been praised by the likes of Salena Godden and Douglas Stuart; Irvine Welsh said it was “One of the most stunning literary experiences I've had in years.” In 2013 Fagan was the only Scottish writer to be on Granta’s Best of Young British Novelists list.

Tickets are FREE – to get a seat in the bookshop email info@typewronger.com. To join via Zoom, email us at cunningfolkmagazine@gmail.com. Order the book from Typewronger and get 10% off the RRP. Weather permitting, after the event there will be refreshments available outside.

Re-Enchanting Your Bookshelf

No—I’m not talking about bringing more fantasy and magical realism to your bookshelf, though it might mean that. I felt called to write this after scrawling through reviews for Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, and seeing reader after reader preface their review with disclaimers such as “This was trash” followed inevitably by “but I enjoyed it.” Why do we feel the need to excuse our pleasure? What’s more, why do we assume entertainment is not worthy? Some books might impart little insight, but of all books I have seen generate reader shame, this one irritated me the most. Anne Rice’s atmospheric Vampire Chronicles dealt with questions of suicide, existential emptiness, grief, and the shadow self, as well as their place within theology. It isn’t her fault that her vehicle for these ideas was this folkloric archetypal monster that haunts the shadows, nor that these turned out to be such engaging stories that connected with readers. On the contrary I would have thought it a sign that she was a master of her craft. She redefined the vampire myth and connected with readers on a deep, archetypal level, revealing the shadows of our collective unconscious.

In the 19th century, good writing was popular writing. Dostoyevsky, Dickens, Tolstoy, and Dumas all published their stories as serials, and readers wanted more and more. These were not stories that centred magic but they were engaging and their prose simple. It wasn’t too different from the way we binge Netflix series today. Admittedly they were often a little on the long side, bloated with what now might be considered filler content (I remember scenes of pastoral life getting tiresome in Anna Karenina, in particular), but we have to consider that they were paid by the word or line—and that their words were in great demand. Still, Tolstoy and others like him demonstrated an ability to say a lot with a little in tight short stories such as The Kreutzer Sonata, and The Death of Ivan Illych. It is hard to write a story where you know the heart so well that the prose can narrow in scope. Think of the those books in the careers of modern writers such as Cormac MccCarthy’s The Road and Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go; both got so close to the heart of the matter there was no need for superfluous lyricism. But beauty shines through their semantic richness. The words alone are just words. They do not self-describe as wordsmiths or lovers of words, as if words were shiny things like gold, diamond and titanium we can mine from the ground. But few words, strung together, can convey deep meaning. The writers who have been described as masters of their craft, such as Jhumpa Lahiri, use prose sparingly and to great effect. 

And yet somehow, we have come to a place where we believe that literary merit is found in the works that experiment with form, that juggle metaphors, however contrived, that find unusual alternatives for clichés no matter how longwinded and inauthentic. I see it in the way some books are heralded above others: loose, fragmented, flat, perhaps edgy, no demonstrative ability to tell a good story or captivate readers. 

Sally Rooney’s first two novels connected with readers in a manner comparable to what would have happened in the 19th century. So many of us felt seen and understood on a deeper level. We also enjoyed the ride. Infamously, Will Self—while promoting a line of macarons at the restaurant Hakkasan in 2019—dismissed her work as “very simple stuff with no literary ambition.” I think Rooney may have had the same bone with books by writers with huge literary ambitions and self-consciously complex prose. In her Normal People, one character laments the state of modern literature: “It was culture as class performance, literature fetishised for its ability to take educated people on false emotional journeys, so that they might afterwards feel superior to the uneducated people whose emotional journeys they liked to read about.” I wonder if in writing her Beautiful World, Where Are You? she was taking a stab again at this literary world, at once criticising the “pretty little novels” about nothing, and (arguably) writing one of them (to make a point?). 

Seriously, our priorities have shifted so much: a few months ago I was reading a piece in The New Yorker where the reviewer slated Roberto Bolaño’s prose for its purported flatness. The author Giles Harvey remarked: “He was something of an anachronism: a great novelist who was not a great writer. You have to go back to Balzac and Dostoyevsky to find masters of the novel form who showed so little interest in the sentence.” But if verbosity is seen as the peak of literary prowess, we wouldn’t have Albert Camus or Gustave Flaubert or so many of the writers who are considered masters of their craft. As a Zen gardener pares back the chaos to show us what is most important, I think good writers know which words matter. 

This tendency towards self-flagellation exists in other arenas in the art world, too. In a bid to accumulate cultural capital, we’ve stared bleakly at grey canvases justified with an essay full of art talk, read those books that everyone is supposed to like and praise when they offer us nothing at all. Sometimes their hype is justified. But I don’t think many of the works praised for their worthiness now—or namedropped in conversations—will stand the test of time. Ideas about whether or not art ought to be enjoyed have been shifting since the industrial revolution. Now many of us will gladly—or rather, unhappily—sit through a 4-hour opera in absolute silence. In the 18th and 19th century, opera was a more leisurely affair. You’d go irrespective of what was on. It was a chance to meet friends, perhaps meet your future partner. Complain about the performance or sing its praises. Drink and eat. Ilana Walder-Biesanz writes for Opera Vivre about how, in the 18th century, composers would give a less prominent singer the first aria in act two: “This was known as the “sorbet aria”: it was traditional to serve sorbet at that time, and the clinking of the spoons made the music difficult to hear.) If the opera truly bores you, you can always pay a visit to friends in another box or head to the gambling tables.” Cut to the present moment, and eating so much as a snack at the opera is frowned upon, a clear sign of unsophistication. You lose cultural capital. 

What we place value in culturally shows what we place value in spiritually. Sometimes I read a book and I think the answer is: we place value in nothing. At the heart of so many books is an empty husk. We are granted a few slivers of real life, and no thread to connect them all. There is no meaning. 

This is not to say we can’t have our lyrical novels. A good question might be, to steal from Marie Kondo, do they spark joy? Admittedly this might not be the best measure of the value of a piece of art. It might make us suffer. But that might have a function too. Since our first attempts at art, from the first cave paintings onwards, we’ve been forging storied relationships with the world outside of ourselves and the world within us, honing the art of meaning-making. Do we really need another book about a sad figure wandering around suburbia feeling disenfranchised? Perhaps yes, if it comes from a place of truth. Richard Yates’ Revolutionary Road feels potent and true and leaves you feeling a little different than you were when you went in.

We seem to have arrived in a strange era of binary thinking where the obviously meaningful and impactful and captivating is suspect. The more unnavigable and dare I say it, boring, the worthier. We know binaries are a cultural artifice, so why don’t we acknowledge this?

Re-enchanting our bookshelves means re-injecting wonder, life and meaning into books. Long have our strange species looked to the written word to find out who we are and who we can be and who we must not be. I don’t know about you, but after a pandemic and at the onset of another terrible war, I know which books I’ll be putting down—and which ones I’ll be picking up.


April Book Club: Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women by Silvia Federici

Our next book club is hybrid! Join us online or in the wonderful Typewronger Books, Edinburgh on 20th April at 7 pm to discuss our next read, Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women by Silvia Federici.

Image © Josh MacPhee

Silvia Federici’s Caliban and the Witch is one of our favourite non-fiction titles, and for good reason it was reprinted by Penguin Modern Classics last year. More recent and less known, Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women is a slimmer book but examines similar territory; many describe it as an accessible introduction to Federici’s work, condensing many of the same ideas laid out in Caliban. Here Federici examines the root causes of a new surge of interpersonal and institutional violence against women, including witch hunts, a mirror, she argues, of the 16th and 17th-century witch hunts of Europe and "the “New World.” An engaging feminist perspective on the development of capitalism, Silvia Federici’s writings are by now an essential part of the feminist canon. Tickets are FREE – to get your name on the list email info@typewronger.com. Order the book from Typewronger and get 10% off the RRP. Find more details about the Covid precautions via the FB event page. Weather permitting, afterwards there will be refreshments available outside.

What We Are Reading

Redemption in Indigo by Karen Lord - chosen by Wanjiku wa Ngugi (contributor to the Fire issue)


When Paama leaves her good-for-nothing husband, she is met by the djomba—the unding ones—who gift her with the Chaos Stick, enabling her to control the subtle forces of this world. Partly inspired by a Senegalese folk tale, Redemption in Indigo is magical and adventurous debut from Karen Lord, an exciting new voice in Caribbean literature. "Fantasy as a genre does not have boundaries," writes Lord. "It has roots. You may call it fantasy. I call it life.”

No one is talking about this by Patricia Lockwood - chosen by Yasmina Floyer (regular contributor)

This debut novel by Patricia Lockwood is one of the most original books I have read. Our unnamed protagonist provides the reader with an insight into her  innermost thoughts as she navigates what it is to live a life online and offline. Her searing observations examine the way in which the internet, or ‘the portal’ as she refers to it, affects the way we relate to ourselves and how we adapt our thoughts and behaviour in response to the perpetually shifting landscape of the internet. The story has a fragmented form which effectively reflects the bite-sized short form of social media. A poignant narrative is loosely woven throughout the novel and it is one I have recommended time and time again!


The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni - chosen by Wanjiku wa Ngugi


“Can't you ever be serious?' I said, mortified. 'It's difficult,' he said. 'There's so little in life that's worth it.”Recently we have seen a surge of interest in reworkings of myth. Poet and novelist Chitra Divakaruni re-imagines the Indian epic, the Mahabharat, centring on Panchaali, married to five men who seek to reclaim their birthright, and friend to Krishna. History and myth blur, but the within of this tale are fierce and independent.


Venus and Aphrodite: A Biography of Desire by Bettany Hughes - chosen by Beth Ward (regular contributor)

Venus/Aphrodite is arguably one of the most recognizable and familiar goddesses of the Greek/Roman pantheon. We've all seen the image, Boticelli's  famous depiction of her birth, the copper-haired beauty emerging from frothy waves on a shell, greeting the viewer demurely, a kind of monolithic symbol of femininity and fertility. 

Bettany Hughes, however, isn't so interested in this version of Venus, the version she describes as "safe, attractive, chocolate-box pretty," in her book Venus and Aphrodite: A Biography of Desire (2019). Instead, historian Hughes introduces readers to the goddess before the goddess, the one from the land of Cyprus, from the Middle East, from the Baltic, a great warrior goddess, love goddess, sex goddess, goddess of justice, of fertility and war, pain and pleasure, love and empire, life and death and rebirth.


Hughes' book reveals the story of a shapeshifting immortal goddess some five millenia old who is so much more than an "avatar of commercial romance" draped in pearls and honey. We're instead gifted with the historical tale of a profound and complex deity who, across centuries, has been worshiped as Inanna, Ishtar, Astarte, Aphrodite, Venus, among other names -- one we reduce to an "image on a Valentine's Day card" at our own peril. 

I devoured this book. 


Women and Power: A Manifesto by Mary Beard - chosen by Yasmina Floyer

Whilst this compact book can be read in one sitting, it delves into the weighty and pertinent subject of women and power. Beard, who is Professor of Classics at Newnham College, Cambridge, examines the deep roots of misogyny by taking us back to the myths and societies of the Ancient Greeks and Romans in order to better understand the structural dynamics that affect women today, and more specifically, women’s relationship with power. Beard explores the public voice of women and references powerful women of both the mythical and contemporary world, from Medea and Athena to Merkle and Thatcher. This is a rousing and compelling manifesto that I find myself frequently returning to.


Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry edited by WB Yeats - chosen by Beth Ward


In compiling and editing the collection Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry (first published in 1888), William Butler Yates aimed to preserve and protect the tales of mystery and myth that lent his native Ireland its unique magic. 

This book then is a kind of Wunderkammer, a cabinet of curiosities packed with tales and songs of witches and ghosts, fairies and queens, tales such as "The Fairy Well of Lagnanay," "Changelings," "The Horned Women," and "The Demon Cat." Reading them took me to a kind of shimmering, liminal place, each one rich with myth, and mood, and atmosphere, and enchantment. 

The stories are also mostly short, and I ate them up like little sweets. 


Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl - chosen by Elizabeth Kim (Editor)

This book had been on my to-read pile for so long and I only just got around to it. Perhaps because the story sounded rather bleak: Viktor E. Frankl was a neuroscientist, and a victim of the Holocaust; he and his entire family were prisoners at concentration camps during World War II, where so many Jews, disabled people, prisoners of war, and Romany people were slaughtered by the Nazi regime. While Frankl touches on some of the horrors of Auschwitz and other camps, he emphasises that describing conditions of this experience was not his objective. He was more interested in what happens to our humanity in the most extreme places, where food is scarce and the future seems bleak. Frankl speaks with compassion and deep wisdom about the meaning that can be found even in moments of unthinkable suffering. I was surprised to find in this concise story a spiritual journey and an antidote to existential nihilism. 


Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art by James Nestor - chosen by Elizabeth Kim

The classic source texts make huge claims about the efficacy of pranayama (Sanskrit for breath expansion) in “combatting all diseases,” which I thought a little optimistic, even if I have personally experienced the benefits of breathing well, and know that pranayama has been shown to calm the nervous system and reduce anxiety. Science journalist James Nestor’s book suggests perhaps these ancient authors knew a trick we didn’t, tracing the strange history of breathing, its value in native and indigenous communities, as well as in ancient civilisations. He puts forward a good case to learn to breathe better and provides the tools for doing so.


Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, translated by Simon Armitage - chosen by Elizabeth Kim

“And wonder, dread and war / have lingered in that land / where loss and love in turn / have held the upper hand.” For a period of time, I was obsessed with Arthurian legend. This was one of the titles I didn’t get around to, though felt compelled to revisit it after watching David Lowery’s stunning adaptation starring Dev Patel as Gawain. This 14th-century romance recalls one of the most famous quests from Arthur’s round table. Sir Gawain accepts a challenge from the mysterious Green Knight, one which he must face with courage and chivalry. The Green Knight is such an enigmatic character, he has puzzled countless translators and readers including JRR Tolkien and C. S. Lewis. This version is beautifully translated by Simon Armitage and an enchanting reading experience, transporting you deep into the folds of the land.

Ring by Koji Suzuki  - chosen by Elizabeth Kim

If you thought the film adaptations of Ring were terrifying, the original book trilogy really gets into your head. Reading it, I felt like the book was coming alive. A storm started in the story, and then outside a storm raged. The character could hear the tap dripping and I could too. Infused with the occult, this is a page-turner, simple and effective in its execution, and sufficiently different from the films to surprise you. Expect demons, a legend of a Buddhist ascetic monk with powers of telekinesis, that strange feeling of reality turning inside out. Ring also touches on deeper, existential questions, as good horror should: “See, we don’t know the beginning and we don’t know the end; all we can know about is the in-between stuff. And that, my friend, is what life is like.” I loved this and cannot wait to read the other books in the series. 


Women Who Run with the Wolves by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés - chosen by Maggie Eliana (In-House Herbalist)

One of my favourite story collections, Women Who Run with the Wolves is a compendium of folktales exploring the archetype of the “Wild Woman.” Pinkola Estés has a PhD in ethno-clinical psychology and focuses her work on understanding the cultural roles that women have played, from innocent maiden to cannibalistic crone. This collection in particular aims to help women reconnect with their primal, instinctual nature and to reclaim this wildness. Expect folk tales from various cultures alongside Pinkola Estés’ analysis, as well as beautiful personal anecdotes. My personal copy is filled with notes and underscores as it is simply bursting with inspirational ideas!


The Conference of the Birds by Farīd al-Dīn ʻAṭṭār - chosen by Elizabeth Kim

“It was in China, late one moonless night / The Simorgh first appeared to mortal sight – / He let a feather float down through the air, / And rumours of its fame spread everywhere...”I read this Persian mystic epic poem a long time ago and returned to it now, thinking about our Air issue. A murmur of birds set out seeking the Simurgh, a legendary god-like bird. It seems like a grail quest, one of those journeys without end. Through beautiful verse, we see their doubts, their fears, their trepidations regarding setting out on the way, and the profound things learned from pushing past these obstacles and reaching this seemingly untenable goal. This is a deeply spiritual tale and one I will return to time and time again.


Old Wive’s Tales: The History of Remedies, Charms and Spells by Mary Chamberlain  - chosen by Maggie Eliana

This book provides a unique window into the history of old wives’ tales and the social implications entwined within them. Chamberlain weaves a beautiful story from this timeline of the history of our ideas of spells, charms, and magic while tying it into the social history the ideas are contained within. Throughout human history and across cultures, we see women go from goddess to sorceress, expert, witch, and charlatan. We see what is happening culturally alongside these changes and how these ideas affect wider culture. And as the blurb states, we actually have a lot to learn from such stories.


The Yellow on the Broom by Betsy Whyte - chosen by Maggie Eliana

One of the most wonderful books I have ever come across, The Yellow on the Broom is an autobiographical account of a traveller family in 1919. We are treated to a rare glimpse into a way of life that is seldom found today. Whyte tells her family’s story with warmth, humour, respect, compassion, and matter-of-factness in the face of challenging situations. A true gem of a book, Whyte’s storytelling takes you along with her family on their travels in such a way that one can’t help getting swept along through the British countryside along with them. A book of true wistful nostalgic enjoyment.


Conjure Women by Afia Atakora - chosen by Wanjiku wa Ngugi

Set in the South after the Civil War, here is the tale of three generations of women: Rue, Varina and May Belle. When a strange illness shakes the community, they are divided. To some, Rue’s conjure is healing. To others, it is a curse.

Read our interview with Afia Atakora.



January Book Club: Mrs Death Misses Death with Salena Godden

Please join us for our first live Cunning Folk Book Club on Sunday 16th January 2022 at 6 pm where we will be joined by Salena Godden to discuss her debut novel, Mrs Death Misses Death hosted by our friends at Libreria Book Shop, 65 Hanbury St, London, E1 5JP. Tickets can be purchased via this link.

Mrs Death has had enough. She is exhausted from spending eternity doing her job and now she seeks someone to unburden her conscience to. Wolf Willeford, a troubled young writer, is well acquainted with death, but until now hadn’t met Death in person – a black, working-class woman who shape-shifts and does her work unseen. Enthralled by her stories, Wolf becomes Mrs Death’s scribe, and begins to write her memoirs. Using their desk as a vessel and conduit, Wolf travels across time and place with Mrs Death to witness deaths of past and present and discuss what the future holds for humanity. As the two reflect on the losses they have experienced – or, in the case of Mrs Death, facilitated – their friendship grows into a surprising affirmation of hope, resilience and love. All the while, despite her world-weariness, Death must continue to hold humans’ fates in her hands, appearing in our lives when we least expect her . . .

General admission: £2

Book and ticket: £10


Praise for Mrs Death Misses Death:

‘A fantastically imaginative story about life, death and everything in between – a potent reminder that life is short and every second should be cherished’  IDRIS ELBA

‘Exquisite. A daring, poetic offering that establishes Godden as one of our most exciting voices’ IRENOSEN OKOJIE

‘A rhythmic and powerful poetic meditation on death, life and love and the hidden mysteries of the universe; both playful and sombre, hilarious and human’ NIKESH SHUKLA





Yoga and the Occult: A Reading List

A yogi seated in a garden, North Indian or Deccani miniature painting, c.1620-40 Source: "KAMOD RAGINI. Northern India or Deccan, from a Ragamala series. Provenance Sundaram, Delhi, 1967." Public Domain.

Yoga is now ubiquitous in fitness studios around the world. Many practitioners enjoy it as a workout, focusing on the asanas (Sanskrit for “postures”), with the added dimension of relaxation through various techniques of pranayama (the Sanskrit word for breath control). But yoga, notoriously hard to pin down, is far deeper than its modern iteration. And its influence on the occult and esoteric traditions is tremendous.

Yoga was brought to the Western world both as an import and export; Indian yogis such as Krishnamacharya, Vivekananda, Yogananda and Sivananda helped systemise yoga in a way it could be consumed in the west. Then there were occultists such as Madame Blavatsky, Aleister Crowley and WB Yeats who transmitted yoga through new translations of ancient texts. Yogic philosophy continues to influence the Western Occult and the New Age movement, though it is often buried beneath new jargon. In recent years, there has been much scholarship on the invention of modern postural yoga, and a returning interest to the more esoteric, eclectic side of this practice with roots in Ancient India. If overwhelmed by the sheer volume of literature on this vast subject, here are some reading suggestions to begin. 

The Truth of Yoga by Daniel Simpson

Daniel Simpson lays out an accessible history of yoga, drawing from recent scholarship. Tracing its early mentions in early Vedanta literature and renunciate culture through to modern postural practices, he challenges the idea of authenticity and ancient lineage—the idea that one way is the right way—instead presenting an eclectic, ever-evolving tradition that has changed with each transmitter. Simpson, who teaches at the Oxford Centre for Hindu Studies, invites the reader to tell new stories about yoga that meet the challenges we are facing now, such as climate change and global inequality. He also introduces a lot of ideas with which occult practitioners will be familiar, but under different names. He writes: “Western fascination with the mystical East had inspired occult groups—led by the Theosophical Society—to translate texts, supplementing the efforts of colonial scholars. In their quest to find a common truth behind all religions, they were drawn to study yoga because of its focus on direct experience. “Much of the modern western occult is a tapestry of imperial spoils, intangible as well as tangible, largely syncretised and hidden beneath new terms—you may recognise many esoteric ideas and practices in the history of yoga. A fascinating text, suggested to yogis, as well as occult practitioners looking beyond lineage claims.  


The Ten Principal Upanishads (co-translated by WB Yeats and Shri Purohit Swami)

If you’ve been in the occult community for a while you’ll have heard the terms “Vedanta” and “Vedic” literature floating around. These are the oldest scriptures of Hinduism, and the most recent of these Vedic texts are known as the Upanishads. These texts document a wide variety of rituals and esoteric knowledge in Sanskrit. A central theme is the awareness of atman—known as purusa in Patanjali’s sutras—the higher self, the divine, the witness who sits inside every one of us and connects us to something larger than ourselves. From the Paramananda Upanishad: “He who sees all beings in his Self and his Self in all beings, he never suffers; because when he sees all creatures within his true Self, then jealousy, grief and hatred vanish.” Elsewhere in the same Upanishad: “He who is rich in the knowledge of the Self does not covet external power or possession.” The Upanishads have inspired philosophers, occultists, writers, artists, scientists, and those interested in metaphysics, including the likes of Schopenhauer, Emerson, Thoreau, and Christopher Isherwood.  Around 108 are known, but this book presents ten of the most important. Poet and occultist WB Yeats was a searcher, a member of both the Theosophical Society and The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. In his foreword, Yeats expresses his hope that in reading these ancient ideas from the East, we might recover the mysticism we have lost in the west. From the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad you may recognise the concept of Will, employed later by Crowley: “You are what your deep, driving desire is. As your desire is, so is your will. As your will is, so is your deed. As your deed is, so is your destiny … ".


The Yoga Sutras by Patanjali

Considered a core text to modern yogis, the unknown sage Patanjali is credited as synthesising pre-existing, older knowledge about yoga such as Samkhya philosophy, Buddhism, Jainism, and Vedanta, through 196 succinct sutras (the Sanskrit for “threads”). These sutras explain what yoga is, why it is necessary and what is to be gained from practising it—as well as what is to be lost by not practising. Written at least 1700 years ago, little is known about Patanjali, who may be one person or many or more of an archetypal sage channelled across several centuries. The second sutra defines yoga, in Sanskrit: Yogas citta vrtti nirodhah: “Yoga is the arresting of the fluctuations of the mind.” He goes onto say why you’d do this: “Tada drastuh svarupe vasthanam”—”Then the Seer abides in its own nature”—or then consciousness is drawn back to the purusa or atman. Patanjali lays out key ideas about the eight limbs of yoga: 1. Yama (community ethics) 2. Niyama (personal observances) 3. Pranayama (Breath regulation/control of life-force). 4. Pratyahara (Withdrawal of senses and focus inwards) 5. Dharana (concentration) 6. Dhyana (Meditation) 7. Samadhi (enlightenment/merging with the purusa). He explains concepts such as avidya (ignorance) and vidya (clear understanding) which could be compared to the modern psychological concept of shadow work, different ideas about samadhi, and liberation, before, in the final chapter, presenting more supernatural ideas about what happens when one has gained a mastery of yoga, including the ability to fly through the air, telekinesis, and superhuman strength, a part of the text largely disregarded by modern practitioners. Of the asanas, one of eight limbs of yoga, Patanjali says: “sthira sukham āsanam” or “asana means a steady and comfortable posture,” which sounds a lot like sitting down comfortably. 


The Hatha Yoga Pradipika by Svātmārāma

“The entire universe is just a creation of thought. The play of the mind is just a creation of thought. Abandon the mind which is only thought. Take refuge in the changeless, O Rama, and surely find peace.” Another highly influential text on modern yoga, this classic 15th-century text again synthesises a selection of knowledge on yoga. It is quite practical in nature, recommending that “the Hatha yogi should live in a secluded hut free of stones, fire, and dampness to a distance of four cubits in a country that is properly governed, virtuous, prosperous, and peaceful.” Noted for its misogyny and weirdness, yogi Svātmārāma shares purification methods, 84 asanas, pranayama techniques, spiritual centres of the body (chakra), Kundalini, bandhas, channels of the body (nadi, similar to the concept of Meridian lines in Chinese medicine) and symbolic gestures (mudra). The asanas are predominantly close to the ground, focussed on fanning things that need eliminating into the Agni (sacred fire) located around the solar plexus and responsible for digestion—much of it borrows from Ayurveda, an ancient system of traditional Indian medicine. Memorable advice includes details on how to induce an enema in a river using a hollow bamboo stick, swallowing a rag to remove excess mucous and a breathing technique where you inhale making the sound of a male bee and exhale making the sound of a female bee, to fill the mind with bliss.


The Secret Doctrine by Helena Blavatsky

Madame Blavatsky’s influence on the modern occult, esotericism and new age beliefs is undeniable. In the 19th century, she founded the Theosophical Society, and is credited as one of the early transmitters of Eastern beliefs, including key ideas from Buddhism and Hinduism, and indeed, yoga. She travelled widely, fusing together converging ideas about the divine and the supernatural, and recorded her ideas in two texts, Isis Unveiled and The Secret Doctrine. The latter was a commentary on what she claimed came from Ancient Tibetan manuscripts: a secret doctrine known to Plato and the early Hindu sages, which she says predicted the age of materialism, and its subsequent decline. She writes that a secret brotherhood has conserved this ancient wisdom and are capable of paranormal powers. She details her beliefs about the origin of the universe, borrowing from the Hindu concept of cynical development, reincarnation and karma, and the Platonic idea of Anima Mundi, or a world soul. She held that all religions were in some way true, but that these South Asian religions were closer to the truth. Raja yoga comes up frequently in this text, spoken of in esoteric terms. As a spiritualist, Blavatsky was accused of producing fraudulent paranormal apparitions, and the link to Tibetan masters is sketchy, which led many to think her a Charlatan. The questionable founding myth, as we shall see, is common in most new religions and not unique to Theosophy. Nevertheless, the myth and her teachings had staying power, captivating countless artists and writers, among which were WB Yeats, Lewis Carroll, Thomas Edison, Jack London, James Joyce, Arthur Conan Doyle, Hilda af Klimt and Kurt Vonnegut. Her ideas continue to resonate with readers today and influence modern esotericism.



Eight Lectures on Yoga by Aleister Crowley

Another occultist most of us will have at least heard of is Aleister Crowley. Crowley was a member of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, another 19th-century society with a compelling myth about its origins, which drew from Freemasonry, Qabalah and Hermetic Magic, occult tarot and Geomancy, among other ideas. After leaving this secret society, he set off around the world, like other affluent searchers of his time, seeking an alternative spirituality to the one he was raised with. In India he studied Raja yoga, before returning to Britain and co-founding the A. A., and the O. T. O (Ordo Templo Orientis)., through which he propagated his new religion Thelema. Thelema featured a syncretic blend of Western and Eastern beliefs, including Yoga and the Qabalah. It influenced the creation of Gerald Gardner’s Wicca in the 20th century. Crowley is best remembered for his performative rituals and magick, seldom for his interest in mysticism. One publication from Crowley’s small press was Eight Lectures on Yoga, intended as a concise, demystification of this practice, stripped of dogma. Crowley viewed yoga as an aim higher than magick, and this is considered a vital part of any Thelemite’s curriculum. 


Raja Yoga: Conquering the Internal Nature by Swami Vivekananda


Yoga was also exported to the West by Indian yogis. One such transmitter was Swami Vivekananda, a sannyasin (Hindu ascetic). At the end of the 19th century, he set off to the US, reasoning: “As our country is poor in social virtues, so this country is lacking spirituality. I give them spirituality and they give me money …”. He founded the Vedanta Society and began to teach yoga to meet an appetite for these “exotic” ideas. In 1986 he published his seminal Raja Yoga. Vivekananda regarded all forms of spiritual practice as yoga and was dismissive of the physical practice yoga had evolved into. He claimed this book Raja Yoga detailed the “Science of Religion”, explaining the practice of yoga and providing commentary on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. The prose is accessible and inspiring to those unfamiliar with the material, Vivekananda writes: “there is a continuity of mind, as the Yogis call it. The mind is universal. Your mind, my mind, all these little minds, are fragments of that universal mind, little waves in the ocean …” 



The First Step by Leo Tolstoy

Madame Blavatsky said of Tolstoy: "He is one of those few elect who begin with intuition and end with quasi-omniscience.” To understand occult literature, we sometimes have to venture beyond the canon of this eclectic, ever-evolving traditions and see how various threads intertwine. Mahatma Gandhi was inspired by Tolstoy’s work, and the pair corresponded between 1908 and 1910. In a letter to Gandhi (published later as A Letter to the Hindu), Tolstoy convinced Gandhi to use nonviolent resistance to gain independence from the British colonial rule in the Indian peninsula, citing Swami Vivekananda’s work and the Vedas. So strong was Tolstoy’s investment in ahimsa, or non-violence, that in later life be became a vegetarian and wrote much about it. In his essay ‘What I Believe,’ Tolstoy emphasizes his conviction that we become more violent by inflicting suffering upon animals: “As long as there are slaughter houses there will always be battlefields.” Tolstoy originally wrote The First Step as the foreword to The Ethics of Diet by Howard Williams. In it, Tolstoy encourages readers to practice harmlessness: “If a man aspires towards a righteous life, his first act of abstinence is from injury to animals.” He also suggests that vegetarianism is humanity’s natural state: “So strong is humanity’s aversion to all killing. But by example, by encouraging greediness, by the assertion that God has allowed it, and above all by habit, people entirely lose this natural feeling.”



Practice and All is Coming: Abuse, Cult Dynamics, And Healing In Yoga And Beyond by Matthew Remski


Often in yoga studios, you will hear a distinction made between “traditional” and “non-traditional.” Traditional is misleading though, used to refer to postures standardised in the early 20th century, when India was beginning to codify its own national physical tradition, borrowing from its past. Around this time, gurus such as Krishnamacharya were also beginning to export yoga abroad. Pattahbi Jois, known for developing the modern postural school of yoga called ashtanga yoga, was better known by his disciples as Guruji. In naming his yoga sequence ashtanga, he nodded his head back to Patanjali’s astau angani—eight limbs of yoga—to which he claimed an interrupted lineage. In fact, he claimed his sequence was older yet. He studied with Krishnamacharya, who claimed to have had in his arsenal a 5000-year-old yoga text, the Yoga Korunta. He claimed his only copy was eaten by ants but continued to transmit its knowledge. Jois claimed this as his base for ashtanga yoga. Whether real or not, this mirrors what happened in other esoteric schools, the myth of the secret text, unfortunately destroyed, but fortunately with one person who remembers it. Remski, like other historians, challenges the notion that ashtanga is traditional, instead revealing the victims of Pattahbi Jois’ sexual and physical assault. Sadly this is not the first time a guru has been accused of sexual misconduct; many of us will have seen the Netflix documentary exposing Bikram yoga’s founder. Similar problems have arisen in esoteric orders and secret societies. Remski demonstrates how cult dynamics within such a high demand group create a culture of silence and tacit acquiescence. Remski spoke with a number of practitioners, such as Karen Rain, who had been sexually assaulted by Jois, and others who had been physically injured by his adjustments. He puts forward a persuasive argument against putting trust in any one teacher, and a reminder of the value of interoception—listening to your body. The conclusion is solution-focussed, offering a list of questions for anyone who can see cult dynamics appearing in their spiritual community.



Post-lineage Yoga: From Guru to #MeToo by Theodora Wildcroft

In 2017, the #MeToo movement led to a number of abuse allegations within a variety of different communities. As explored in Remski’s book, the yoga community was not immune; self-styled gurus including Bikram and Pattahbi Jois were outed for their sexual assault and as a result their spiritual practice, and lineage claims, were put into question. We have seen how gurus or esoteric leaders often claimed an uninterrupted lineage to the ancient past. To those in the occult/magic world, this will be familiar. Wicca, before its history was laid bare, claimed to be an old religion, not a modern, creative invention inspired by the past. So too did 19th-century secret societies such as the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Such claims can be enticing, suggestive that there is an ancient truth that has been covered up by generations of power grabbing, but preserved by an underground community. Such myths and secrecy, as we have seen, can also cover up for stories of abuse and enable one person to accumulate power. Interestingly, Wildcroft belongs to two worlds, the yoga world and the Pagan world. She had already witnessed how scholars such as Professor Ronald Hutton have shown, compassionately, that modern Paganism is a creative blend of old and new, and the growing acceptance and changes within these communities. Post-Lineage Yoga and Neo-Paganism, she suggests, have much in common, with an emphasis on direct experience, working in harmony with the cyclical nature of our bodies and the seasons, and our interconnectedness. 


Final thoughts

How might yoga look in the near future? Knowing that modern yoga practices are a creative blend of past and present, like their Neo-Pagan counterparts, doesn’t discredit them; rather it enables us to explore the ideas less dogmatically, telling, to paraphrase Simpson, new stories that we need now. There is no right path to this goal. As we confront the painful reality of colonialism, we will also have to undo some of that syncretism that has happened in the occult (with ideas appropriated from India, but also from Judaism, Egypt, Houdou, Sufism etc) and see how we’ve integrated these beliefs into a capitalistic matrix and changed them—this will involve learning about the histories and traditions of borrowed ideas and recognising where truth meets fiction. Telling new stories to help us in an era of climate crisis and decolonising the occult might come hand-in-hand. Three-fold law, for instance, is a loan from the Hindu concept of Karma; vitally, Gerald Gardner’s understanding of it excludes animals and other beings, as Scientology treated its appropriation of reincarnation. How much of what we are taking is helping us? And how much is simply assimilating into the disenchanted world we live in now? By reading around (including ancient texts and modern thought), working with multiple teachers, and not religiously following one school of thought, we might reach an understanding more in fitting with what a long line of occultists and yogis have sought: a focus on honing our own intuition so that we might have direct experience with the higher mysteries, rather than lose that to groupthink and organised religion. In turn, we might be able to unwind some of the Cartesian thought that have become enmeshed with magical thinking, and find something sacred and something shared.

In 2022 Elizabeth will be offering accessible yoga classes anchored in yoga philosophy. Sign up to her newsletter to receive updates and read her blog.