Tags
Baba Yaga, Camille Born, Charles Kiernan, ivan bilibin, Julie Moss Herrera, mary grace ketner, megan hicks, witches and devils
Ivan Bilibin’s Baba Yaga
Sagacia was stretched out on the Davenport reading letters from magical friends in response to Faithful in Fairbanks. Simplia was at the corner desk, poring over her laptop.
“Camille Born is on Facebook talking about them, too,” she said. “Witch stories, I mean. She’s saying…”
I don’t use any with witches or devils (but I don’t use any of those any time for kids); in old folk tales the nasty woman is always a hag, crone, henwife (which I describe as someone people went to for special potions, etc). I don’t use stories with lots of blood and guts, relying instead on suspense… jump stories, urban legends.
It may not even do any good to talk about witches and devils,” Sagacia said, waving a letter in her hand. “Kids may not even know what they are. Listen to this report from Julie Moss Herrera.”
I told a story to kindergartners that had four “bad-guy” characters in it; one was a ghost, one a witch, one a monster, one a devil. The heroine outsmarts them all. But the kids had no idea what a devil was. We talked a little bit after the story about how the “bad-guys” represent all the problems we might face in our lives. The kindergartners got that!
Then today I was talking with high school students who weren’t sure why a story named “Pedro y Diablo” had two men thinking about St. Peter (who’s that?) and the devil. So I think Priscilla Howe is right: the adults are more afraid of things that go bump in the night than the kids are. At least the adults seem to think they are more knowledgeable.
Simplia sighed. “Adults! Is it stereotyping to say that adults cause all the trouble?” She went back to reading Camille Born’s postings:
It’s never surprised me that schools have asked for spooky/scary stories. The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is read as literature in many an American classroom….Our public school culture has been spooking themselves silly for years, not to mention around youth group campfires. While gore, violence, witches and devils may be politically, socially, religiously incorrect in our times, a good paranormal ghost story – a story of the unexplained – is still kosher, and has not yet been relegated to the realm of “Those Things That Must Not Be Mentioned.”
“‘Things that must not be mentioned’?” Sagacia articulated.
“I know!” Simplia avowed. “Sounds like censorship to me!” Just then, her laptop pinged in a new piece of email. “Which is to say ‘adults causing trouble’ again,” she added, clicking open the new letter.”
“Ah!” she said. “It’s from Charles Kiernan, and it looks pretty timely! Listen up!”
Ah, the heavy hand of censorship falls clumsily on the fragile art of storytelling, sending certain words scattering outside the circle of hearing.
I am uncomfortable hypothesizing on the dimensions of censorship. What words should not be spoken? I can put forth the theorem that I do not censor, but I can make no proof of it. If not words, there are things, for me, unspeakable. I am intersecting the arc of censorship at a different point than “Faithful in Fairbanks”, but I draw my line nonetheless. We differ only by degrees. That “Faithful in Fairbanks” draws that line inside the perimeters of fairy tales I find obtuse.
Censorship is a kind of math. It is exact, precise, calculated. It is a cold thing, bearing none of the warmth of the spoken word.
“And that’s another thing!” said Sagacia. “It seems as if, more times than not, the adults causing the trouble are not actually present when the story is told. They don’t experience the warmth of the spoken word or the protective company of the storyteller and other listeners along with the chill of the ghastly events! I bet that old hag Faithful in Fairbanks scared her kids herself!”
“So,” said Simplia, slamming her laptop shut with a whump. “Who’s the witch, now?”
So, I am rereading for the third time (because I was not ready to finish it before) Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ “Women Who Run with the Wolves;” and I found in the Introduction a possible reason why adults are afraid of things that go bump in the night. The Wild Woman, who is present in all women, guides us when we free her to live the life we were meant to live. Perhaps the adults who are afraid have not allowed the Wild Woman her freedom. That is what they are really afraid of, but can’t put into words. So the “Things that Go Bump in the Night” symbolize all their fears and they try to protect their world as best they can which is, of course, through censorship.
My granny was a white witch, defined in our family as one of the fey (the Irish say one of the dark ones (that adjective having nothing to do with hair color), but in her case she was careful not to ask for recompense for any of her midwifery and nursing, herbal simples or wise advice. if the person she had benefited chose to give her a gift, that was different…but not a fee, unlike a witch of the black arts, who was mainly interested in power and control (and often hindering or vindictiveness), not in using his (a warlock if a male) or her talents to help. I remember in the early 60s, Jeanne Dixon was suddenly in the news as a psychic. Granny’s comment was, “if she takes money for her gifts, she’ll soon no’ hae any.” These abilities were meant to be used for good, not for getting, or God would remove them. My grandmother was known to predict the sex of unborn children, often before the mother knew she was pregnant, and until she went blind, she had The Sight–a very unpleasant and painful ability. When she partly regained her vision after cataract surgery at 80, she was relieved taht she couldn’t see well enough to See. –Barra the Bard
MaryGrace……. I love you. I have wonderful witches in my LIFE, on my altar of goddesses, (and this is a GOOD CATHOLIC girl speaking), and I”m working on the witch within. Maggie Smith gives me courage. Just thanks.
I love you, too, Marni! You and your inner witch!