Friday, 21 November 2014

My reflections on the "Newer Researchers in Folklore Conference", Warburg Institute

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of being invited to attend the “Newer Researchers in Folklore Conference”, organised by The Folklore Society and held at their central London base in the Warburg Institute, Bloomsbury. As many have expressed with some trepidation, all is not well for English folkloristics; while we have seen the University of Chichester open its Sussex Centre for Folklore, Fairy Tales and Fantasy, the past decade has witnessed the closure of other departments devoted to the field. In the academic sphere, folkloristics is rarely accorded the respect and recognition that it deserves, and indeed in many cases is barely visible and very poorly understood. Further, folklore itself is widely associated with Morris dancers, Maypoles, and all things twee, rather than being understood as encompassing all of the popular beliefs, customs, and traditions of any given society; the "lore of the folk", if you will. Understandably, this sorry state of affairs is one that greatly concerns the Folklore Society, and it is was clear that one of the core purposes behind this conference was to find a way to reverse this decline and inject new life into this fascinating old discipline.

The event was organised by TFS (logo pictured)
Organised by Dr. Matthew Cheeseman and Dr. Paul Cowdell (the latter of whom could unfortunately not be at the event itself), the one-day conference was also attended by the Society's President, Professor James H. Grayson, as well as its Vice President Robert McDowall and prominent British folklorist Jeremy Harte, while Dr. Caroline Oates kindly dealt with the organisational issues surrounding food and drink. However, these eminent scholars were not to take centre stage, for as its name suggests, the day was devoted to "newer researchers", which in many, although by no means all, cases was a synonym for "younger researchers". Certainly, the majority of us in attendance were either in the midst of our doctoral research or stepping out into the daunting early stages of an academic career. Although I recognised a few familiar faces from earlier folklorist events, this was nevertheless the first time that so many of us in these early stages of academia had been brought together in one place to discuss the field and our role in it.

Our opening keynote speaker was Professor Diane Goldstein, the director of the University of Indiana's Folklore Institute, one of the foremost departments for folkloristics in the United States. In her talk, she outlined the academic opportunities that were open to folklorists in her own part of the world, championing the term "folklorist" as a badge of pride and suggesting that as a discipline, folkloristics can be differentiated from sociology as a result of its ideological bent. Suggesting that better days for folklore studies may well be on the horizon, she provided a number of useful suggestions for how those here in England can galvanise to improve conditions for the discipline and bring it up to the standard present in much of North American and Europe. This was followed by a talk from a representative of publishing company Taylor & Francis, who produce the Folklore Society's peer-reviewed journal, Folklore. As could be expected, some comments were raised regarding the ethical problems of author-financed open access services, something which has attracted a lot of attention, at least in Anglo-American academia, over the past few years.

Despite common perceptions of what folklore is, no-one at the
conference was doing research on Morris dancing!
After lunch, we embarked on a series of presentations, in which we each introduced our research, future plans, and our own relationship to folklore. First up was Gunnella Thorsgeirsdottir, an Icelandic scholar who has recently completed her doctoral research into the folk beliefs and practices surrounding pregnancy and childbearing in Japanese society.  She was followed by Bristol-based independent scholar and journalist Gideon Thomas, who discussed his interests in Anglo-American folk musical traditions. Next was Dr. Will Pooley, a post-doctoral fellow at the Institute of Historical Research who specialises in traditional culture within the Francophone world. He was followed by a scholar with whom I co-organised last year's third "Popular Antiquities: Folklore and Archaeology" conference, Dr. Tina Paphitis, who has recently completed her work on the folklore of archaeological landscapes in Britain. Taking quite a different approach to the study of folklore was Dr. Victoria Newton, who is presently a Research Associate at the Open University; her specialism is in popular beliefs surrounding women's contraception and fertility in contemporary Britain. Next up was Éva Gyöngy Máté, a Hungarian doctoral candidate at the University of Debrecen who has been looking at the mediality of landscape in contemporary Scottish fiction.

Doctoral student Melanie Lovatt proceeded with an introduction to her work with individuals living in old age homes from a perspective rooted in material culture studies. She was followed by independent scholar Alice Little, who outlined her research into both musical instruments in museums and on historical folklore collectors like Percy Manning. French-American doctoral student Nicolas de Bigre proceeded with an outline of his work with immigrant communities in North-East Scotland, focusing on their personal-experience narratives of being an immigrant. Next was Ben Kehoe, whose recent master's degreee thesis examines late nineteenth-century Sicilian popular perceptions of Giuseppe Garibaldi and the Revolution of 1860. Heading back to the U.K., Ceri Houlbrook discussed her approach as a "folklore archaeologist" in analysing the fascinating tradition of coin trees in modern Britain.
Social historian Erika Hanna then offered us a discussion of her work in analysing Dublin's Urban Folklore Project, which was carried out from 1979-80. Adopting a very different approach was independent scholar Michelle Griffiths; herself a performance artist, she has been looking for new avenues in which to combine folklore and artistic expression. After I then outlined my own research projects into both Anglo-Saxon belief systems and the contemporary Pagan use of archaeological monuments, paying particular attention to my use of folkloric sources, Cheeseman then rounded the day off with an outline of his doctoral research in the folklore of student life.
The conference provided a fantastic opportunity to bring together newer researchers who are all, in one way or another, embarking on studies within the remit of folkloristics. We were able to meet one another, learn of each other's research, and discuss our shared concerns and obstacles, as well as potential ways of deaing with them. In doing so, it was undoubtedly of great value to the field. However, what became particularly apparent was that few, if any of us, identified solely as a folklorist. Instead, we tended to think of ourselves as scholars of archaeology, history, sociology, or literary studies first and foremost, and as a folklorist second, third, or even fourth. Some, including myself, were even hesitant about labelling ourselves "folklorists"; in part this was because most of us lacked in-depth academic
training in the methodologies and theoretical perspectives of folklore studies, but also because there are few if any academic positions in English academia for a self-described folklorist. Conversely, others, not least Professor Goldstein herself, urged us to proudly label our best work as "folklorist", thus hoping that greater academic exposure and impact will result in an improved future for the field. I hope that she's right, and (for better or worse) I will certainly be more comfortable in declaring myself a folklorist in future.

UCL Events' review of my recent Petrie Museum lecture

For those who missed my recent lecture at UCL's Petrie Museum on the subject of archaeology and occultism in the films of American experimental filmmaker Kenneth Anger, you might wish to check out a review here, authored by Irrum Ali for the UCL Events' Blog.

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

Kenneth Anger Lecture and Seven Questions With Me

Just a quick post to say that – as I mentioned in an update last month – tomorrow I shall be lecturing on the theme of Kenneth Anger, Archaeology, and Occultism at the UCL Petrie Museum in Central London. The talk will be accompanied by a screening of Anger's cult classic, Lucifer Rising, which offers an exposition of his own Thelemite beliefs. Tickets sold out quickly, but if you were lucky enough to get one then I look forward to seeing you tomorrow!

In other news, UCL have recently posted a brief interview conducted with me over at their website, as part of their attempts to publicise the university and the sort of research that gets carried out there. I won't claim that it's the most fascinating read in the world, but if it does interest you then you can check it out here: Seven Questions With... Ethan Doyle White.

Friday, 31 October 2014

A Halloween Review: Michael Howard and Daniel Schulke's "Hands of Apostasy: Essays on Traditional Witchcraft" (Three Hands Press, 2014)

Today – October 31st – is a date observed across the Western world as Halloween, a festival with ancient origins which over the years has come to be associated with ghouls, ghosts, and witchery. In honour of this remarkable day, one which seems to bring together fun, frolic, and fear in equal measure, I have decided to offer a thematically-appropriate book review here at Albion Calling. Although in the past my reviews have appeared only in the pages of academic journals, I have decided to follow the lead of award-winning scholar of Western esotericism Egil Asprem by posting a review directly to my own blog, where it will be available freely to a far wider audience than that normally received by such peer-reviewed scholarly outlets. My decision to do so was sparked by the publisher's invitation to review one of their recently-released esoteric tomes that fits very much within the remit of one of my primary research interests: the historical development of modern religious Witchcraft in Britain and the West more widely.

Hands of Apostasy: Essays on Traditional Witchcraft has been published by Three Hands Press, one of the two publishing arms of the Cultus Sabbati, a magico-religious “Traditional Witchcraft” group that was founded in the early 1990s by the Essex occultist Andrew D. Chumbley (1967–2004). Chumbley claimed to have been initiated into a number of pre-existing British folk magical traditions, whose teachings formed the partial basis from which he established the Cultus, before he went on to gain widespread attention within the Western esoteric milieu for authoring a number of particularly influential grimoires, most notably The Azoëtia, Qutub, and ONE: The Grimoire of the Golden Toad. In later life, he proceeded to enter academia as a historian of religion, although tragically died while carrying out his PhD research. Both of the editors of this particular anthology had strong links to Chumbley; Michael Howard was a close personal friend of his, having previously established himself as a well-known figure in the British occult scene for editing and publishing The Cauldron, a popular practitioner-oriented journal devoted to witchcraft, folklore, and paganism, since 1976. The U.S.-based Daniel Schulke, meanwhile, was an initiate of Chumbley's Cultus who would take on the mantle of the group's Magister (effectively its leader) after its founder's untimely passing, a position that he retains to this day.

Thus, rather than being the product of a scholarly press, Hands of Apostasy is a tome that has been both edited and published by an occult organisation. Furthermore, in keeping with this, its chapters have been (primarily) written not by “outsider” academics but by occultists themselves, emic voices who here discuss the very traditions to which they owe their spiritual allegiance. While I am therefore accustomed to reviewing academic books using the usual benchmarks and standards of academia, here I must attempt to do something different; to review a non-academic work of esotericism from my own perspective as an academic non-esotericist. It would be simply unfair if I were to therefore challenge the contents of this book for being insufficiently academic, because they were never designed to be so in the first place; instead I shall seek to evaluate the varying chapters on their own merits, with critical commentary from my own (somewhat different) position. 

The Introduction:

In the anonymously authored introduction – which can most probably be attributed either to Mr. Howard or Mr. Schulke, if not both of them – the reader is offered such an emic view of the “Traditional Craft”, or “Old Craft” as it is also often known. Here, it is described as “a distinct body of archaic magical practices in present-day Britain and North America, which despite ties to past milieus of magic also thrive within modern spiritual climes” (9). Emphasising that it is not a singular, monolithic entity, the author(s) state that these groups emerge from “a variety of historical magico-religious streams” but that they typically “operate in secret, with strict means of initiatic succession, and practice sorcery characterized by a dual ethos of healing and harming” (9–10). Following this, we are given a brief introduction to a few of the figures whom they see as central to the public dissemination of knowledge on the Traditional Craft, before an outline is provided into the Luciferian world view which many contemporary Crafters – and in particular the members of the Cultus Sabbati – embrace.

A point that I found particularly interesting was that the author seeks in part to define Traditional Witchcraft by explaining what it is not. To their mind, it is “very different in form, ethos and nature” from the “neo-pagan witchcraft” (10) which was pioneered by the English occultist Gerald Gardner in the 1950s, and which in the Alexandrian milieu of the coming decade came to be emblazoned under the somewhat less incendiary name of “Wicca” (on the etymological development of the word see Doyle White 2010). While I would certainly concur that there are some groups flying the banner of the “Old Craft” whose beliefs and practices do indeed differ greatly from those of Gardnerian Wicca and its offspring – the Cultus Sabbati being perhaps the most prominent example – I do not share the belief that all so-called “Traditional Witches” differ so clearly from Gardner's creation. As I have argued elsewhere (Doyle White 2013), textual evidence for the original theology present in the 1960s coven of Robert Cochrane – a man oft treated as the Traditional Witch par excellence depicts a magico-religious tradition that is very much Neopagan in form and content, and that is before one takes into account the compelling evidence that Cochrane himself was also a Gardnerian initiate (see Doyle White 2011). 

Furthermore, it is also evident that the terms “Old Craft” and “Traditional Witchcraft” have come to be embraced by practitioners in various parts of the world whose traditions are quite evidently variants of eclectic Wicca; I am reminded of a passage on page 385 of The Triumph of the Moon in which Professor Ronald Hutton recalls knowing of three covens which established themselves as “Wiccan” in the 1980s, only to switch to declaring themselves practitioners of the “Traditional Craft” in the 1990s. Clearly, for the author of this introduction – as for many Traditional Crafters – the boundaries between Wicca and the Old Craft are, despite a little interaction and mutual influence, comparatively crisp and clear. Etically speaking, I cannot share that view; I see the term “Traditional Craft” as more of a legitimation strategy, a way for certain magico-religious and esoteric groups to hark back to the pre-Gardnerian practices of an older Europe, to a historical “tradition” of witch bottles, cunning folk, and Horse Whisperers, as a means of conjuring up a sense of authenticity, pedigree, and heritage. Some of these groups likely do have such roots – Chumbley's Cultus and the Sabbatic Craft it espouses again being perhaps the most prominent example – but others I suspect owe far more to Gardner's legacy than to those of his antecedents.

The Chapters: 

In the coming chapter we are treated to an article by Chumbley himself on the subject of “The Magic of History”, in which he offers a fascinating personal insight into how he saw himself as embodying “a bridging position” (21) between the world of the historian and that of the magician. In doing so, he discusses both the “history of magic” and “magical history”. While the former offers a fairly simple analysis of textual information placed within a chronological framework, the latter does something quite different, instead tapping into a “timeless” zone through which he believed he could communicate via “spirit-discourse” with the shades of long-deceased magicians (20). As he aptly notes however, “such truth-claims [attained from this zone] cannot be presented as historical evidence, however[...] such truth-claims must be respected by scholarship and treated impartially as the beliefs of a given individual or tradition” (20), thus championing methodological agnosticism among scholars of magic. In doing so, he offers us an intriguing theoretical approach to the analysis of living esoteric and magico-religious traditions that warrants greater attention from those of us who are active in this particular field.

A further aspect of this chapter which I found particularly interesting was Chumbley's suggestion that some of the cunning-folk of mid-to-late nineteenth-century Britain formed together in lodges or covens, and that the descendants of some of these groups have survived to this day, coming to be unified under the banner of “Traditional Witchcraft”. He further suggests that from at least the 1890s, a number of these groups began to actively incorporate elements from the Early Modern iconography of the Witches' Sabbath into their practices. As evidence for this, he comments on his own encounters and experiences with such groups; at the same time, he comments that their secrecy prevents them from opening themselves up to academic scrutiny and study, and that he himself was at times frustrated by this impasse. As he acknowledges, those of us in academia are thus left in a conundrum; (plausible) claims are being made about nineteenth-century magical practices and their continued survival to this day, but the information that historians require to analyse such claims are being intentionally kept sub rosa. As someone who is an academic, I found this a particularl interesting chapter, and feel that it really serves to reiterate what a loss Chumbley was for scholarship in the field of magic.

Chumbley's chapter is followed by a short piece authored by the late American esotericist Douglas McIlwain, in which he lays out his claims to having been initiated into a magico-religious tradition by his great-uncle in 1967 which he himself termed the “Skull and Bones Family Tradition”. As a first-hand testimonial to forms of American folk magic it is truly fascinating but unfortunately – as with so many similar claims – its veracity can (and indeed, from a scholarly perspective, must) be questioned. Remaining in the United States, Corey Thomas Hutcheson then provides us with a comparison of traditional witchcraft lore in the mid-to-southern Appalachians with that of the Ozarks, highlighting how both have identifiable origins in the folk beliefs of Europe but each nevertheless diverged and developed in independent directions prior to being recorded by early twentieth-century folklorists. 

David Rankine then returns us to the Old World in order to argue that the grimoire tradition of Medieval and Early Modern Europe was influenced in various ways by witchcraft. Although an intriguing subject worthy of further in-depth research, it was unfortunate that Rankine did not explicitly outline what he meant by the term “witchcraft”, seemingly including a wide variety of phenomenon – including benevolent folk magical charms – under that category, something with which most scholars would probably take umbrage. A brief piece from the late Cecil Williamson, founder of the Boscastle Museum of Witchcraft, is then included, in which he discusses aspects of what he terms “moon-raking rites” in British folk magic. Again, it's very interesting as a document of potential twentieth-century folk practices, but given Williamson's well known habit of bending the truth, such claims have to be taken with a pinch of salt. The anthology then continues with a lengthy chapter from Martin Duffy in which he offers an emic discussion of the esoteric, and often sexual, symbolism of the cauldron. In doing so, he references a wide array of disparate sources, from the iconography of Early Modern diabolical witchcraft to Iron Age archaeology and from the writings of modern Traditional Witches to Afro-Cuban magico-religious practices; this reflects a widespread belief among Traditional Crafters – as among many occultists and esotericists more widely – that there are common magical and occult meanings behind traditions that are otherwise scattered across very different historical and cultural contexts.

Melusine Draco of the Coven of the Scales follows with a discussion of her group's animistic worldview, in which Britain's rural landscape is understood as being populated by an array of genii loci, or spirits of the place, whom she asserts can be contacted through Old Craft practices. Asserting that these traditions therefore represent the survival of pre-Christian British shamanism, her claims regarding ley-lines being marked by late prehistoric megaliths seemingly owe more to the mid-twentieth century Earth Mysteries movement than older folk traditions, something that certainly raised the eyebrow of this particular archaeologist. Howard then offers us a historical overview of necromancy – the act of contacting the spirits of the dead – throughout European history, ranging from archaeological interpretations regarding ancestor cults in Neolithic Europe through to Roman, Medieval, and Early Modern textual accounts and on to the necromantic rites of Traditional Witches. In the ensuing chapter, Peter Hamilton-Giles offers an intriguing discussion of the “witching hour”; in a manner echoing the aforementioned Chumbley chapter, he stresses the difference between the historian's perception of time and the magical practitioner's perception of time with its ties to the idea of personal spiritual truth. Gemma Gary of the Cornish Ros An Bucca group follows with her discussion of “The Man in Black”, or Devil, in European witchcraft, in doing so making extensive reference to the accounts of the Early Modern witch trials and subsequent Modern textual and folkloric accounts of magico-religious groups such as the Toad Witches.

We are then presented with a second offering from Chumbley himself, this time on the origins and rationales of modern Witch-cults. Aptly highlighting that there were magico-religious groups operating prior to the emergence of Wicca which termed themselves “Witches” – most notably the Toad Witches and the Zos Kia Cultus of Austin Osman Spare  he proceeds to discuss the origins of Gardnerian Wicca, seemingly accepting the possibility that Gardner had indeed been initiated into a pre-existing New Forest coven, which represented an older tradition of magic, but that the "Father of Wicca" had then gone on to radically alter this tradition according to the witch-cult hypothesis of Margaret Murray. From there, Levannah Morgan provides a beautifully written personal account of her own experiences with the use of a mirror as a magical tool, rooted in the folk magical traditions which she encountered growing up in rural Wales during the 1960s. Heading into the Irish Sea, we then arrive at the Isle of Man, where a collaborative group known only as Manxwytch discusses some examples of accounts of alleged witchcraft and folk magical customs on the island, before suggesting that these exerted some influence on Gardner, who lived on the island in later life. From Europe's north-west to its south-east, we are then offered a chapter on Serbian “traditional witchcraft” from Radomir Ristic which looks in particular at a rite known as “Unchain the Devil”. Although an interesting account of a folk magical practice that apparently still continues in Serbia, I was a little sceptical as to the unproven assertion that it had its origins in “pre-Christian paganism and Gnosticism” (247), something which appears to represent an approach rooted in the discredited doctrine of folkloric survivalism.

From my own perspective, more satisfying is the following chapter, authored by Jimmy Elwing – co-editor of Correspondences: An Online Journal for the Academic Study of Western Esotericism – on the basis of the work conducted for his recent master's thesis at the University of Amsterdam. Devoted to an analysis of Chumbley's work, it discusses how he constructed and legitimised his Sabbatic Craft, before examining the Magister's ideas pertaining to dream-like states of consciousness as a gateway to gnosis. Although other essays have seen publication discussing Chumbley and his work (for instance Morris 2013), Elwing's work here represents one of the very first scholarly examples to do so, and thus will no doubt be of great help for future researchers venturing into this area.

Italian-American Witch Raven Grimassi follows with a discussion of the traditional associations between witches and botanical knowledge, looking in particular at the case of the mandrake root and the connection between witchery and the forest. Switching focus to the Welsh Marshes, Gary St. Michael Nottingham provides a fascinating discussion of surviving examples of local folk magical charms, which are – as he notes – without exception rooted in Christian sources. The penultimate chapter is provided by Schulke himself, and examines conceptions of darkness within Traditional Witchcraft. He notes that in the Sabbatic Craft, darkness is understood as the preserve of ancient spirits, before embarking on a discussion of the role of the nocturnal darkness in many historical conceptions of witchcraft beliefs as well as in other magical traditions such as Thelema. Finally, Lee Morgan offers a really fascinating chapter on the likely influence exerted by nineteenth-century Romanticism on the Traditional Witchcraft movement; as she points out, the Romanticist ethos of viewing Lucifer as a sympathetic figure, adopting a radical stance against conservative society, and embracing an interest in occult practices could certainly have exerted an influence on the British magical milieu of the period. For me, as someone who is really not very well acquainted with the lives of figures such as Byron and Shelley, this was something of an eye-opener, and it is hoped that this will prove to be of great use to future scholars embarking on an analysis of the historical development of contemporary Traditional Witchcraft and its nineteenth-century antecedents.

Concluding thoughts:

To their credit, it seems apparent that the editors have sought to embrace a fairly diverse spectrum of different approaches on the subject of "Traditional Witchcraft" within this volume; some authors have sought to provide scholarly analyses of the movement and its historical development, while others have instead endeavoured to accumulate information from a wide range of sources which can inspire the practices of contemporary magico-religionists. Others still have attempted to embrace a highly emic interpretation of particular forms of symbolism, while a few have instead offered very personal descriptions of their own practices and world-views. Alongside such differences in approach, there are also (to my mind) differences in many other ways; some articles are written very clearly, others in a wonderfully poetic manner. Some are evidently a great deal more intellectually sophisticated than those situated around them. Some I deem to be very good, others less so; as an academic whose great interest is in the historical development of these magico-religious traditions, clearly certain entries are going to appeal more strongly to me, while other readers with very different interests might have views that are very different to my own. 

One point that I feel that I should raise, perhaps a little pedantically, is that there is a great disparity in referencing throughout the volume; when citing a work many of the contributors make reference merely to the author and book's title, whereas those who were academically trained have provided fuller, more satisfying references including places of publication and page numbers. In my opinion, a standardisation of such referencing in the latter manner would have helped the book attain a more unitary feel and would have made further reading a little easier. 

As has come to be expected from Three Hands Press, the quality of the published tome is praiseworthy; a beautifully designed hardback, it contains an array of wonderfully evocative illustrations by Timo Ketola, which fit within the distinctly “dark” artistic aesthetic which has become common within the Traditional Craft milieu. At $58.50 for a standard hardcover and $380 for a special edition, it isn't going to be affordable for everyone (and those are direct-from-publisher prices), but perhaps a cheaper edition might be made available in time; certainly, I can envision there being a fairly wide sector of the esoteric market who would be interested in this volume, making a paperback release potentially financially viable. The tome will be of great interest to anyone who describes themselves as a "Traditional Witch" or who is sympathetic to that particular current of esoteric practice. Many Wiccans might find it an interesting introduction to forms of modern-day religious Witchcraft which differ from their own. Similarly, many academics specialising in both the history of European magical beliefs and/or in the study of Western esotericism will no doubt find it a fascinating read and could use it as source material for further research. I certainly wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to either scholar or practitioner, or indeed (as is increasingly common) to scholar-practitioners.

What to me this book makes abundantly clear is that there is not one singular “Traditional Witchcraft”, but many different traditions which situate themselves under this encompassing rubric. In the pages of Hands of Apostasy, there are various different magico-religious world-views on display; Draco's depiction of the Old Craft as a survival of pre-Christian shamanism is clearly quite distinct from Chumbley's description of it as a survival of nineteenth-century cunning lodges. I for one thought it a positive sign that the editors and publishers allowed this to be the case; they could quite easily have chosen to push a Sabbatic Craft-dominated image of the Traditional Craft that eclipsed any and all alternatives. (The only publicly-prominent tradition of the Old Craft that was not represented was the Clan of Tubal Cain, which is the name used by the various groups which trace a pedigree back to Cochrane.) Traditional Witchcraft is a burgeoning and growing movement within the broad current of Western esotericism, one which will likely go from strength to strength over coming years, aided by the publication of volumes such as this one. That being the case, it is hoped that further academics will join the likes of myself and Elwing in examining this movement, studying its beliefs and practices, and in particular its early development, so that hopefully we can eventually develop an accurate and nuanced understanding of how today's Traditional Witchcraft emerged from the folk magical traditions of yesteryear. 


Doyle White, Ethan. 2010. “The Meaning of 'Wicca': A Study in Etymology, History and Pagan Politics.” The Pomegranate: The International Journal of Pagan Studies vol. 12, no. 2, pp. 185–207.

Doyle White, Ethan. 2011. “Robert Cochrane and the Gardnerian Craft: Feuds, Secrets and Mysteries in Contemporary British Witchcraft.” The Pomegranate: The International Journal of Pagan Studies vol. 13, no. 2, pp. 33–52.

Doyle White, Ethan. 2013. “An Elusive Roebuck: Luciferianism and Paganism in Robert Cochrane's Witchcraft.” Correspondences: An Online Journal for the Academic Study of Western Esotericism vol. 1, no. 1, pp. 75–101.

Hutton, Ronald. 1999. The Triumph of the Moon: A History of Modern Pagan Witchcraft. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Morris, Anne. 2013. “But to Assist the Soul's Interior Revolution: The Art of Andrew Chumbley, the Cult of the Divine Artist, and Aspects of the Sabbatic Craft”, in Nicholaj de Mattos Frisvold, ed. Serpent Songs: An Anthology of Traditional Craft. pp. 173–187. Location not specified: Scarlet Imprint.

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

New Publication: Book review of Bron Taylor's "Avatar and Nature Spirituality" for Nova Religio

Check out the latest issue of Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions (vol. 18, no. 2) to grab yourself a copy of my latest published book review; for those with access, it is available here at JSTOR. The review in question looks at Bron Taylor's edited volume, Avatar and Nature Spirituality, which was published by Wilfred Laurier University Press back in 2013. While I'm really not a fan of the Avatar movie, it does raise many interesting questions for the study of what Catherine Albanese has termed “nature religion” as well as for what Taylor himself has termed “dark green religion”. In depicting an alien species of hunter-gatherers, it creates a unique belief-system for them, which is somewhat pantheistic and nature-venerating in orientation. Further, as with other prominent science-fiction creations like Star Trek and Star Wars, Avatar has launched a fandom who often express spiritual viewpoints regarding the film and its fictional world, while members of established religious groups have reacted in various different ways to it and to its anti-imperialist, environmentalist message. This book represents one of a number of new publications to begin exploring these areas, adding to the fascinating and burgeoning field of religion and film.

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

That Friggin' Paper is Now Available For Free - But For a Few Days Only!

As I'm sure that the majority of academics can attest, it's always nice when other folks read, appreciate, and even share your work, particularly when those folks happen to be complete strangers seemingly operating outside of the ivory towers. Thus, I was delighted to find that my recent paper on "The Goddess Frig: Reassessing an Anglo-Saxon Deity" was referenced in a post about "Friday" here at the Irregular Times (no, I'd never heard of it either, but it seems interesting). I'm not sure that the post accurately represents my argument, particularly given that it mixes up the Norse deity Frigg with the proposed Anglo-Saxon goddess Frig (something quite contrary to the intentions of my paper), but still - it's great that people are reading my work!

And that brings me on the fact that it has recently been announced that the latest issue of Preternature: Critical and Historical Studies on the Preternatural - in which my paper was published - will be available here on JSTOR for free up until Sunday 27 October in honour of Open Access Week. After that, however, the paywall goes back up. So for anyone out there who would be really interested in reading the paper but couldn't legitimate paying a fee to do so, this is your lucky day; go download it!

Saturday, 4 October 2014

New Publication: "The Goddess Frig: Reassessing an Anglo-Saxon Deity" in Preternature: Critical and Historical Studies on the Preternatural

Apologies for posting again so soon after my previous post (and on a rather similar topic to boot), but I've just come upon some news that – for myself at least – is tremendously exciting. The Pennsylvania State University Press have recently published the latest edition of Preternature: Critical and Historical Studies on the Preternatural (vol. 3, no. 2), which is devoted to the theme of “Old Gods and Ancient Ones”. As those familiar with me and my work can testify, I have a great fascination for the deities of the past and the manner in which they have been received, interpreted, and venerated once again by people in the present. As such, after reading the journal's initial call for papers I submitted a piece for consideration – “The Goddess Frig: Reassessing an Anglo-Saxon Deity” – which I'm pleased to say was scrutinised by two peer-reviewers, deemed worthy of publication, and is now available for others to read! Adopting an interdisciplinary approach, the paper critically examines what we know about this Early Medieval deity, and (more importantly) what we think we know about her. As I put it in the paper's abstract:

This article critically examines the evidence for the existence of the Anglo-Saxon goddess Frig, exploring toponyms, day names, Old English textual sources, archaeology, and comparisons with continental Germanic mythologies. Challenging previous assertions that she was the consort of the god Woden and was associated with love and motherhood, it furthermore contends that this scholarly misinterpretation of the deity has had wider repercussions, affecting the way that contemporary Pagans interpret this particular divinity. Ultimately, it argues that far less can be said about Frig with any certainty than has been previously supposed, suggesting that a case can even be made that she had never existed as a deity in Anglo-Saxon England at all.

For me, the particular importance of this work is twofold. First, I think it is one of my two best publications, in terms of how it is written and its potential impact and influence. Second, it represents my first research-based publication within the fields of Anglo-Saxon and Early Medieval Studies, an area that I am now devoting increasing amounts of time to as a result of my doctoral studies in Early Medieval archaeology at the UCL Institute of Archaeology (which I started last week!). I'm afraid that the publishers aren't handing out free copies, but for those interested individuals with institutional access, you can download a PDF from either ProjectMuse or JSTOR.