In the spirit of the holiday and being the Hallowe'en freak I am, it occurred to Moi it was time to read one of the essentials of Western literature, one of the earliest titles ever printed, a book, at the height of its popularity, outsold only by The Bible. Whilst I knew well of this tome and do ever so enjoy speaking its mellifluous name, I had not ever read The Malleus Maleficarum. "What, pray tell, is the Malia Whatch-a-ma-callit?, you may ponder. Well, 'tis really more of a Witch-a-ma-callit. Ha!

No laughing matter when it was written by Heinrich Kramer & James Sprenger and first published in 1486, it served as a guidebook and reference source for the Christian community, church leaders, nosy neighbors, municipal courts and the official Inquisitors of the Inquisition. Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!

The Malleus Maleficarum was written as a guide to seeking, identifying and prosecuting, thus vanquishing and dispatching of, witches. Didn't believe in witches? No worries, disbelief itself was at best heresy, at worst a sign of a witch. Being a redhead (Well, we all know my feelings on those Redheads! Ha!), having moles or birthmarks (Oft sought by town elders, always male, upon the nude bodies, usually female, of suspected witches for hours and hours of probing, poking and pinching.), possessing a quiet nature, possessing a rambunctious nature or cultivating a belief in the burgeoning fields of science were all excellent, possible signs of a witch. I highly suspect Gladys Kravitz, beauteous and spirited Samantha Stevens' crotchety old neighbor on Bewitched, had a copy on her windowsill. Something other than Heaven help you if you were found guilty.

Whilst the final, waning days of the witch trials peaked here in America with our very own Salem Witch Trials in 1692, the two and a half centuries previous ran Amok, amok, amok! across Europe with figures, dazzlingly varied but horrific even on the lightest-end, numbering 600K - 9Million men, women and children burned alive, drowned, stoned, hanged or tortured to death as witches. With too many specifications to sift through, sometimes the Inquisitors could simply rely on the time-tested generalizations of those "who did not fit within the contemporary view of pieous Christians", "old", "Jewish", "gypsy", "outcast" or the old standby, "a woman".

With such a verifiable and terrible history of inhumanity around which to wrap our modern brains, all one can do four-hundred-plus years later is make a joke or two, produce quirky films about the period (Hocus Pocus, for one, rocks!) or, like yours truly, travel to Salem, Mass. to celebrate Hallowe'en, dress up like Abby Sciuto or Bellatrix Lestrange , stay in the Hawthorne Hotel and blog about it all in November! (I could also work it into a future Savannah of Williamsburg title: maybe a 1600s prequel to the series?)

As a good friend stated sagely upon learning My Viking and I were headed to Salem with the Parental Units for the holiday: Salem Witch Trials? Oh, yeah? Might as well capitalize on that shit, right? True dat, pal.

On the jokey side of this vile and embarrassing era of Western civilization, I came across this "review" of The Malleus Maleficarum on Goodreads. It was such an out-of-the-box review, I couldn't believe Moi didn't write it first. Damn. Oh well, credit where credit is due, I had to share!

 

A Review by R:

"Why is your son dressed like a pilgrim?"

"Oh, it's a phase he's going through."

"Why is he piling up all that wood?"

"Oh, it's a...a phase. We're pretty certain it's a phase. You know kids, ha-ha."

"Ha-ha. Why is he tying your youngest, his brother, to a pole? And...a gasoline can? Matches??! Is that a phase, too?"

"No. Witches. You can't suffer them to live."

"I suppose you're right. You can't."

"No. You really can't."

"For a second there..."

"Yeah, I know. But, no. Witch. Well, warlock, to get technical about it."

"Your youngest, though..."

"Yes, I...I know. Don't think it didn't surprise me."

"Thank God your oldest is going through that phase."

"Tell me about it. Saves me the job, you know."

"Ha-ha!"

"Ha-ha! Ha!"

Review by R, just R. Head on over to Goodreads and give his review, your review!

By the by, as I read R's review, I instantly envisioned the scene with very specific actors: Tina Fey as Talbot's cardigan-donned Mom, those off-putting, strange little Children of the Corn twins on "Everybody Loves Raymond" and Steve Martin as the casually well-dressed, Brooks Brothers-sporting neighbor across the Marblehead, autumn leaf-laden, stone fence. Who did you envision? Tell R!

Happy Hallowe'en, all!

 

 

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