In conversation with Kaitlynn Copithorne

Sanctae Hildegardis

Sanctae Hildegardis

Kaitlynn Copithorne is a Calagary, Canada-based illustrator and a regular contributor to Cunning Folk. We instantly fell in love with her distinctive aesthetic and her depictions of animals and folklore. You can see her work throughout our website, and illustrating Zoe Gilbert’s short story The Wild Hunt in our first print issue. We have plenty of exciting things planned in future together, and Kaitlynn is definitely one to watch. Normally Kaitlynn’s images speak for her, but we had a brief chat with her about her inspirations.

Cunning Folk Tell us about your own practice, both creative and magical.

Kaitlynn Copithorne I am an illustrator and visual artist working in digital, printmaking, and  painting mediums. I like my work to tell stories. Magically my practice would probably fall under the “traditional witchcraft” definition, and since I deal mainly with land wights and the energy in the landscape, depends heavily on where I am practicing.

CF How do you find ideas? Who or what inspires you?

KC Most of my inspiration comes from nature, folklore, and mythology, particularly creation and etiological myths. I grew up quite isolated on a ranch in rural Canada and spent a lot of time by myself in the forests and fields, and so I think the natural world just became my primary knowledge base for understanding the world. I’m a big collector of folklore as well and that is definitely where my mind tends to go first when starting a new project.

CF What is your dream commission?

KC Right now I think my dream commission would be an oracle or tarot deck. I am very interested in the challenge of creating a visual language for a body of work that large while keeping it all cohesive. 


CF
What initially drew you to folklore and witchcraft?

KC Initially I was drawn to it through movies, especially The Craft. I was definitely an outsider and I saw characters I identified with empowering themselves through witchcraft and wanted that for myself. As I learned more about cunning people and witch lore I realized that their practices were actually not that different from my own “superstitions” as I called them that I developed growing up on the ranch.

CF You have done quite a lot for cunning folk. What about this project appealed to you?

KC I was drawn to Cunning Folk because it combined so many of my interests (mythology, folklore, witchcraft, nature) in one platform. I’m always looking for witchcraft and folklore themed publications and zines, and Cunning Folk struck me as contemporary and less academic than other publications I subscribe to, and I mean that in a good way. It handles these subjects on a very personal level, and I find it very fulfilling to myself creatively and magically to read about other people’s personal practices.

CF Pertinent to this current issue, do you think we are going through a period of re-enchantment?

KC Definitely. I think enchantment works as a cycle, and we are currently at the point where widespread dis-enchantment begins to breed re-enchantment on a collective level. Speaking specifically from a North American perspective, we are realizing that the colonial systems in place supposedly to keep us safe, healthy, and fulfilled do not in fact do any of those things very well, if at all, for a vast majority of us. Even more distressing is the dawning realization that this system isn’t failing us because it’s broken, it’s functioning exactly as it was designed to, and does not care about anyone falling through its cracks. And so, like cunning folk of the past, when the institutions won’t empower us, we seek to empower ourselves. To me, the fact that we keep circling back to magic when everything else has let us down speaks to how deeply embedded it is in us. When our power has been taken away from us we inevitably turn back to ourselves to replenish it, and there we find magic waiting for us.

Illustration spreads from in-progress project The Moon Being Full.

Illustration spreads from in-progress project The Moon Being Full.

Swan Brings the Holy FireCurrently available in collection at Glo’Art Centre, Belgium.

Swan Brings the Holy Fire

Currently available in collection at Glo’Art Centre, Belgium.

Block Heater Music Festival 2020

Block Heater Music Festival 2020

All images © Kaitlynn Copithorne

In conversation with Jenny Hval

Jenny Hval is a Norwegian musician, singer-songwriter, producer, and novelist whose work is multidisciplinary and transgressive. She made her writing debut with the critically acclaimed novel Perlebryggeriet in 2009 (published in English as Paradise Rot in 2018). Her latest novel, Girls Against God was published in Norwegian in 2018, and has just been published in English by Verso (translated by Marjam Idriss). Girls Against God is a meditation on magic, art and writing, via the lenses of black metal, heresy, technology and the occult. I spoke with Jenny over Zoom shortly before the book’s release.

Photograph © Baard Henriksen

Photograph © Baard Henriksen

Maria Blyth The novel really resonates with me, Jenny, in part because like the protagonist I too was a provincial goth growing up in the far North. Though I’m from the Shetland Islands, I feel like I’m almost Norwegian—I’m familiar with the landscape, the Shetland dialect is very Nordic, and there are so many cultural similarities. The book really made me think about those provincial subcultures—goth, black metal, and so on. This made me wonder whether, growing up, were you a provincial goth too?

Jenny Hval I’ve never been to the Shetland Islands, but I’ve always wanted to go! I was really into horses in my youth, and that connection with Norway was really intriguing—this sort of in-between place. This book is very Norwegian. I think I tried to be a goth for a while, though not as much as the character in the book. I was in a goth band and I was trying out this goth thing. What connected with me was the opposition to a lot of things, but then I was also disappointed by how apolitical a lot of it was, or at least not political in the way I was leaning. So I think I ended up being in the goth group but also being more of a misfit. But that’s also okay; the clothes don’t fit, the corset doesn’t fit, my taste in literature didn’t fit with the ideal at the time. I never got into Lovecraft, for example. I think I was a bit snobbish. I wanted to go for more modernist-type literature; I was quite set on what I wanted to read and enjoy. One of the major traits of deciding what kind of identity you’d like to reach for, and how to get there—mine was literature and maybe music. So I was part of the goth group, but I didn’t feel at home there. And maybe others didn’t either. Maybe that’s a major part of being young—not fitting in, feeling like you fit in nowhere, that no-one understands you. 

MB That’s so true—even when you find your people, your subculture, that feeling of being an isolated individual doesn’t really go away.

JH Yeah. Subculture is often not as cultish as it seems—most societies and subcultures and congregations have more variation than you think when you’re young. You think that everyone’s part of the same flock of sheep, but as soon as you get to know people, it’s not the case because people are so different. So, I felt out of place, but quite at home. I didn’t enjoy the dresses but luckily there were fake leather trousers!

MB So, you were kind of into the goth scene—was this when you became interested in magic and the occult, or with this novel are you coming at it anew? I can see occult threads and themes throughout your writing and music.

JH Well I think I discovered it after doing it. I wasn’t very into these things beyond reading about Wicca and Pagan rituals on the early internet in the 90s. I was fascinated by it but not really studying it—it was pure fascination for me, but there was no such thing in my region, and perhaps not in Norway at all, at least that I could see. So it felt very far away from me. When I started doing my own music in my mid-20s, I guess that after a while I realised how interested I was in the ritual of performing. I think for many years I was more interested in the performing arts—performance art in particular—because of this closer connection with ritual than I could find, even in subcultural pop music. I realised I can do elements of this on stage, I can use the space visually, I can look at the space of the stage differently, even if I’m performing music. I can look at music as an incantation, as a spell, as something that is brought to life with its own kind of magic. That’s become more and more important in my work. I think that it’s been the motivation all along, but I hadn’t been able to see that until I started working towards creating this book. So, over the last six or seven years I’ve realised more and more that music does have something to do with magic and ritual. Even if my work is not coming purely from that subcultural longing any more. 

MB I really love this idea of the band as a coven casting spells together. One thing I like about the spells in the novel is how many bodily fluids are involved. This is something I find really interesting about all of your work—there’s something really tied up around physicality, the body, nature, “filth”, in a certain meaning of the word. Of course, bodily fluids feature throughout the history of magic and spellcasting—they are such an integral part of magical practice. Why do you think this is?

JH My entry points to magic are art and music. Music, because that’s my stage, it’s my ritual output, which is much more visceral a process than writing is. And I write a lot about this in the book—about how you write the spell and it can be performed, but it’s sort of in an in-between place of not existing yet, not being put into words yet, or not being in the body yet—like you’re creating future bodily fluids. To me, experiencing singing is what makes me write a lot about fluids and the body. I’m not necessarily the kind of artist you’d call a visceral artist—I don’t spit on stage or come across as an extrovert. I’m not a confrontational body-oriented artist. I’m really much more of a shy person. But I find that bodily fluids and singing come out of the same process—they both come out of your body and are not of your body at the same time. So they’re kind of in-between life and death. They’re in between the temporal and infinity—they don’t belong to you. Which is problematic because as soon as you’ve said something it doesn’t belong to you anymore. Which is beautiful, but it’s also abject. I remember back in my early band days, when I’d hear my voice in a tape recording, I’d have this very abject reaction; kind of like seeing your own pee, or getting your period. This experience, for me, was a very extreme experience. I think about this when I record because my intentional sound is always different to what I listen back to. It’s this strange opportunity to have this interaction with yourself that’s both inside and outside. So it’s partly this connection with singing, but also having studied a tonne of feminist literature, and the history of performance art since the 60s. To me, when I discovered all that, I discovered “oh, art is real”. There is something there that belongs to me, belongs to everyone. And it’s not coming from a place I can’t access or understand—it’s lived. 

MB On the topic of things outside the body, sometimes inside it, technology comes up in Girls Against God a lot. What do you think the role of technology is in magic, and vice versa?

JH I’m really curious about what your thoughts are! I felt like when I was writing about the visceral internet, or connective technological tissue, I was finally writing science fiction, which has been a dream for me to do. I felt like I got to this point where I could finally go off in that direction. For me, I write myself to starting points for going out of a more realistic type of narrative voice, then onto what I am the most interested in, which is getting to those places where I can write that film script, write the apocalypse, write about this intersection between magic and technology. For a while I thought I actually want to write an entire book that is about a parallel society in which everything is the same as the real world except the internet is visceral. That would be crazy! Now, because of the virus, I’m like “don’t go there, don’t do that”. I guess the internet is philosophically very fascinating, and there was a time when it was full of opportunity. I remember in the 90s when it was a hidden, subcultural place that felt like being underground. Not to be super nostalgic—that’s not a very productive story—but the book goes to this place where there’s a place for a different type of body, and a different type of experience of the body, and the connection with other people. I guess for me that’s the magical part—feelings of belonging and community, things that we’re really longing for at this time. Closeness, the feeling of affinity, the feeling of an unspeakable or inexplicable intimacy. Maybe beyond words, but maybe not beyond code. 

MB And maybe not beyond magic. If you could define magic, in a few sentences, without really thinking about it, how would you do it?

JH I’ve already thought about it! Transformation. One word, but many syllables.

MB And what does transformation mean to you?

JH It’s the combination of space and time.

MB Talking of words, and the meaning of words—swearing, blasphemy, and profanity come up in the novel a lot. Why is blasphemy so thrilling to us—why does it have this real allure, this magical quality?

JH Well maybe I could’ve said blasphemy is magic. It feels like a strong experience because it’s an opposition, and being in opposition makes you realise that you exist in opposition to something. Blasphemy to me is also being part of the huge opposition to institutions, which might be stupid, as we’re also part of institutions—this book is published through institutions, and I perform because of institutions. I went to university, I learned about magic, all because of institutions. The feeling of being in opposition is also the feeling of being part of forces that are almost in opposition to humanity, or to its structures and hierarchies, and being part of nature. For me, swearing is like being the wind in the trees.

MB That’s such a graceful way of framing it. In the same vein, it would be good to talk about hate—for the protagonist hate is such a fuel. Is hate a fuel for your work?

JH For this work in particular, definitely. For this book, obviously it’s a huge motivation, for the protagonist it’s the reason to write, and because of that, perhaps for me as a writer. And I do think that I’ve needed to feel rage to begin to write, many times. I do think that sometimes I’ve needed this type of energy, oppositional energy, in order to say anything at all. But it’s not always my motivation. I think that it appears a lot, sometimes more humorous, sometimes more sarcastic or energetic, but also sometimes I feel very different energies—I think it comes in waves. Sometimes the need to hate, and sometimes the need to pick apart the emotional and go into an approach that is much more meditative. I’m able to get there also by using the hate energy. I don’t get to wellness by wellness. It’s never that easy. I kind of felt, after I finished this book, that I was more at peace with Christianity, which came as a surprise.

MB Well that’s transformation, and as you said, magic is transformation.

JH And writing is magic.


In conversation with Renee Sills

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Renee Sills is an astrologer, somatic movement educator, artist, and the host of the Embodied Astrology podcast. Through her work, she seeks to articulate and centre the embodied experience. For Renee, astrology is inherently embodied. Based in Portland, Oregon, she is a second generation astrologer and her work is deeply influenced by that of Melanie Reinhart, Liz Greene, Alan Oken, Eric Francis, Dane Rudhyar, and Demetra George. Though Renee has primarily studied Tropical, Psychological, and Western Medical Astrology, her work is also informed by Sidereal Astrology and a multitude of other cultural cosmologies.

Maria Blyth How did your astrology journey begin, Renee?

Renee Sills My mother got into astrology when she was in her 20s. She and her best friend (who is my godmother and now my close friend) studied the correlation of plants and astrology for a herbalism business they started, then later she became a massage therapist and learned some Medical Astrology to help her work with bodies, then later in her life she started to work as a counselor and used astrology with her clients. Since it was something she was actively learning and researching throughout my life, I picked a lot up from her (and her synthesis of astrology with health, healing, and psychology) simply by sharing an environment. She would always explain me to myself through astrology and when, at 13, I wanted to drop out of school and do my own thing, she saw that my chart supported that and so she used my chart to help me figure out how to self-direct an education.

My mother died when I was 17 and I inherited her library of astrology books which I then began to read obsessively. I think that since I’d grown up with it as a common language, the concepts and methods felt super intuitive and were very easy for me to grasp when I started to study it on my own. I started reading charts of my friends in my mid 20s and then started the Embodied Astrology podcast a few years after that. It’s only been 5-6 years or so now that I’ve read charts for clients professionally, but about 20 years that I’ve been committed to the study. I’m always learning, and I learn from everything - books, podcasts, classes, talking with other astro-nerds, my own chart, and observing astrology daily. I’ve had two short-term mentors – Heidi Rose Robbins and Carol Ferris. I learn a ton from my clients and reading charts all the time. I learn a ton from teaching!

MB What do you consider unique about your personal approach to astrology?

RS I think that my synthesis of astrology, somatics, contemporary art, and politics is pretty unique. I was born in 1983 when Jupiter and Uranus were conjunct in Sagittarius. I’ve noticed that my generation is full of people who synthesize, combine, and work in innovative intersections of various streams of esoteric mysticism and praxis. I haven’t (yet) met any other astrologers that share my particular intersections.

I’ve been a dancer and a mover all my life and have studied somatic methods since I dropped out of school at 13. A lot of my somatic study has been focused on embryonic, fetal, and systems development and movement repatterning. This awareness blends naturally with astro for me since so much of astrology helps us to see into a person’s psycho-energetic patterning. Working with embodiment and astrology as a combined practice allows me to work directly with people’s psycho-energetics through guided felt-sense awareness and breath and movement practices. 

I also have two degrees in contemporary art - a BFA in Intermedia and Cyber Art (a dated term by now!) and an MFA in Social Practice. I think that living and surviving is inherently creative and I’ve found that I’m significantly happier when I think of my life as an art practice (jobs, relationships, all of it). I try to bring artistic methods into embodied astrology through using sensory scores, textural descriptions, imagination games and visualisations, and always, always promoting creative perspectives and agency in my clients, students, and listeners. 

Finally, I am a very political person. I think embodiment is inherently political and astrology is a very interesting lens to view politics through. I identify as a progressive and an anti-capitalist, anti-racist, abolitionist. In everything I offer – whether to a large audience through the podcast, or in a 1-1 session – I am always orienting towards the political. It’s not always didactic, but it is always political for me. I want to support people in listening to their hearts and intuitions rather than authority figures, in untangling themselves from the destructive, dehumanizing mind-states of capitalism and colonist white supremacy, and taking a critical approach to deconstructing the formulaic expectations colonized society lays out for us in terms of what our values “should be”, and how we “should” work/labour, relate, love, live. 

MB What do you believe is the relationship between astrology and divination, or fortune telling?

RS I think astrology is a very useful tool for divination. In my experience as a sensate intuitive, looking at a person’s chart really helps to open up my intuitive channels and direct my attention. I am not really a fan of fortune telling or prediction. I do think that we can use astrology to see into and articulate someone’s past or to describe the idiosyncratic nature of a person’s inner experiences. I think we can also effectively use it to describe future possibilities, upcoming challenges and opportunities, or to give perspective on timing. But, I believe deeply in free will and I don’t personally think it’s useful or possible to tell someone exactly what will happen in their future and to trust that that information won’t create its own magnetic attraction or cause and effect. 

Astrology allows for a very nuanced approach to divination and it can look at a wide range of information as well as things that are extremely specific. In this way I think astrology is special because it can be so acutely directed. I do think it’s important to cultivate one’s intuition though, because otherwise astrology will just be methodical and prescriptive and fall flat. Because it is so specific, it is possible to use astro quite precisely to name and describe elements of a person’s life but, without intuition I don’t think we can really connect with the needs of their soul, which will direct our attention in more non-linear ways. At this point for me, reading an astrology chart feels like channeling. I don’t spend a lot of time calculating degrees or concerning myself with what others have said the meaning of something is. I just let the symbols speak to and through me. 

MB For readers interested in learning about astrology, where would you recommend they begin?

RS I think we always learn best when we’re excited about what we’re learning. I would say to start with media and teachings that feel the easiest to absorb and integrate. Not everyone can pay attention to books for a long time, but some people love to read. There are such great podcasts and online classes now, and so many astrologers who offer mentorship. Also, there are so many different kinds of astrology (Tropical, Sidereal, Jyotish, Mayan, Chinese, to name a few) and the amazing thing is that all of them work! Choose an approach and teachers who resonate with you. 

Start learning by asking how astrology can help you with what is current and relevant in your life. Astro is something that is so big that we’ll never be able to learn everything there is, which can be overwhelming, but that knowing can also be supportive to maintaining a beginner’s mind. My number one piece of advice is to not have a goal/destination. People get “good” at astrology when they love it and are hungry to learn it. Just connect with what’s the most interesting for you and let it lead you and you won’t go wrong. After that, my number two piece of advice is to observe it happening. A lot of astrologers get so caught up in making meaning that they forget to observe their own experiences. Keep a lunar calendar and notice how the moon’s phases feel in your body. Pay attention to seasonal light. Track your transits and progressions. Be fascinated by your own chart and what it’s doing. 

In conversation with Jessica Hundley

Jessica Hundley is a writer, director, and the editor of Tarot, the first volume in TASCHEN’s Library of Esoterica series. This visual compendium includes more than 500 cards and works of original art from around the world in the ultimate exploration of a centuries-old art form, and excerpts from essays from thinkers such as Éliphas Lévi, Carl Jung, and Joseph Campbell. It’s a beautiful book and resource and we were thrilled to speak with Jessica, via email, about the making of this book, and her own practice.

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Elizabeth Kim What inspired you to compile a book on tarot? What did you want this book to be?

Jessica Hundley I’ve always loved Tarot and have been collecting various decks since I was 12 or 13. The art, the iconography, the way the symbology of Tarot immediately taps into our own knowing and intuition, all of this was the reason I wanted to create this book. We’re living in a moment where we need tools, meditative, healing practices that lead us into deeper understanding of ourselves. Tarot is one of those tools. I wanted to create a beautiful, seductive and inclusive introduction that would welcome all – and felt the best way to do that would be to focus on the art, the history and an easy to understand overview of each card. I wanted to  focus less on the dogma and more on the artistry, to draw back the veil and bring more people in, show them that this is a practice that can be helpful to everyone - creatively and emotionally.

EK Tarot hasn’t always been regarded as an art form by mainstream culture. Do you think this is changing?

JH Absolutely. So many incredible contemporary creators are turning to Tarot for inspiration. Although artists have been working with Tarot symbology since the Middle Ages. And in the 20th century, fine artists from the Transcendental and Surrealist schools were deeply inspired by Tarot—Dali, Remedios Varo, Leonora Carrington and later, in the 1960s and 1970s Pop Artist as well, such as The Fool Collective and Niki de Saint Phalle. De Saint Phalle’s Tarot Garden in Italy is arguably one of the greatest and most awe-inspiring works of Tarot art in the world.

Strength, The Black Power Tarot, 2015, by Michael Eaton and AA King Khan

Strength, The Black Power Tarot, 2015, by Michael Eaton and AA King Khan

EK Which are your three favourite cards or decks from the book? Can you talk us through your choices?

JH It is impossible to pick favorites! I love them each for various reasons. And I’m drawn to different decks depending on the day.  Every card we included is important in its own way and will speak to someone out there. My hope is that people will go through the book and find cards they resonate with, then support the artists that are self-publishing their own decks. 

 

EK Do you read Tarot yourself? If so, what's your card-reading practice like?

JH Yes. I read for myself. For others, I don’t read in the traditional manner. Instead I do workshops where I guide people in using tarot as a creative tool, reading the cards to encourage inspiration or overcome creative blocks. For myself, I usually do a one card reading every day, asking a simple questions, like “what should I focus on today?” and the cards always offer something poetic and insightful and relevant. I use Tarot regularly as a tool to tap in and tune in to my own intuition.



EK The archetypes have throughout history largely remained the same though the imagery and symbols change. Why has tarot such an enduring appeal, across time and different cultures?

JH Exactly because of what you just stated! We recognise ourselves in the cards. Archetypes remain, because we are all human with the same desires and fears and needs. There is something beautiful and reassuring to know that we share the same stories as our ancestors, that we are all on the same journey.

 

EK It’s heartening to see a major publisher of art books focusing on the occult and the esoteric. Some of your other books have delved into this territory, for example The Taschen Book of Symbols. Is the demand increasing for books on this subject? If so, why do you think that is?

JH I think people are seeking ways to find themselves, to find connection and spirituality and communities outside of traditional, normative culture. Tarot and astrology and witchcraft, all of these are not just practices, they are ways of knowing, of learning more about yourself and your world.

 

EK This is the first in Taschen's Library of Esoterica series, which sounds exciting. Can you tell us a little more about that?

JH I’ll leave you with an excerpt of our “For The Seekers” statement that will be included in the final pages of each volume of the series. 

“FOR THE SEEKERS:

The intent of this series is to offer an inclusive, introductory overviews to these ancient rituals and to explore their complex symbolism objectively, rather than dogmatically. In doing so, the aspiration is to draw back the veil and to reveal a deeper appreciation of these valuable tools of the psyche. Esoteric knowledge offers powerful methods for self-exploration and meditation. These magical practices have developed over centuries in order to allow for a further under-standing of the inner world.

The goal of this series is to present condensed summaries of these ancient systems and from there, encourage readers to further explore the rituals, ceremonies, and sacred philosophies of various global cultures. The task is to inspire readers to seek out knowledge, to study the teachings of scholars past and present, whom have dedicated themselves to the development and preservation of these ancient arts. 

The hope is that The Library of Esoterica emboldens readers to begin their own journey down into the dark the halls of the arcane, to pull the dusty tomes from the shelves, to take the timeworn cards from the satchel and spread them across the silks, to look up to the sky and read meaning in the movement of the stars.“

The Empress: Sebastian Haines, "The Tarot of the Golden Serpent," 2013 (detail)

The Empress: Sebastian Haines, "The Tarot of the Golden Serpent," 2013 (detail)

Temperance, Mountain Dream Tarot, 1975, by Bea Nettles

Temperance, Mountain Dream Tarot, 1975, by Bea Nettles

Judgement: David Palladini, "Aquarian Tarot," 1970 © U.S. Games Systems

Judgement: David Palladini, "Aquarian Tarot," 1970

© U.S. Games Systems

Pamela Colman Smith with puppets she created, featured in the October 1912 issue of "The Craftsman Illustrated"

Pamela Colman Smith with puppets she created, featured in the October 1912 issue of "The Craftsman Illustrated"

The Hanged One: artist unknown, "Estensi Tarot," 15th century © Bibliothèque nationale de France

The Hanged One: artist unknown, "Estensi Tarot," 15th century

© Bibliothèque nationale de France

The Tower, Neuzeit Tarot, 1983, by Walter Wegmuller

The Tower, Neuzeit Tarot, 1983, by Walter Wegmuller

All images courtesy TASCHEN - copyrights remain with the respective artists.

In conversation with Amy Hale

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Dr. Amy Hale is a writer and anthropologist who specialises in the emerging fields of Esoteric studies and Pagan studies. She has a PhD in Folklore and Mythology from UCLA. From a young age, Dr. Hale has been obsessed with The Celts, or as she told me, what “people love about the idea of ‘The Celts’, much of which, as it turns out, is far more romance than reality.” Her research and writing interests span Druidry, Paganism, the earth mysteries movement and spiritual tourism in Cornwall, “in addition to slightly darker research into radical right-wing Paganism.” Her book Ithell Colquhoun: The Genius of the Fern loved Gully, a biography of the British surrealist artist Ithell Colquhoun, will be published in November 2020. I spoke with her in August 2020.

Nicolette Clara Iles What is your experience of being an academic within studies of the occult? How does being both academic and practitioner affect your work—or life?

Amy Hale I haven't exactly had a traditional academic career, so honestly, it hasn't impacted me much. The fact is, it is a relevant phenomenon in the modern world that impacts identities, populations and economies, and that has been the focus of my work. I am not an apologist or theologian. Even when I was a Lecturer at the University of Exeter, looking at modern Paganism in Cornwall was always part of my research, and no one took any issue with it, because the occult and Paganism has had a material impact on Cornwall that is very worth looking at. For most of my career I have taught online, so that perhaps kept me out of the line of fire of colleagues and departments who might have taken issue, but even when I worked in a corporate environment, helping build curricula for Christian schools, my area of research was never an area of concern. The bottom line is that even with a slightly odd area of expertise I conduct myself like a professional and my personal beliefs or practice is no one's business. When people find out they are mostly just fascinated by it.

NCI How can magic and occult studies become a more accessible territory?

AH I think in a lot of ways we are in a Golden Age of esoteric thought.  There is more open access to ideas, resources, texts and systems than we have ever had. The possibilities to network and exchange thoughts, ideas and information on occult topics is historically unparalleled. I think the access is there and I believe that esoteric cultures are thriving. I think the big question is more about the ways in which magic and the occult changes wider cultural conversations. I hope that one thing to come out of this esoteric flowering is the realisation that regardless of what people may tell themselves or others about their own spirituality or lack thereof, we are actually complex beings with a range of creative responses to our environments. The idea that the world has been disenchanted by rational thought is starting to slip away, because people have always had remarkably complicated, and sometimes contradictory worldviews. You can be rational, even an atheist as I was raised, and still experience the world around you with awe and mystery. I think it’s in those liminal moments that the space of magic emerges. 

NCI So what led you to write a biography about Ithell Colquhoun?

AH From the moment I first encountered Colquhoun's archives at the Tate in 2000 I knew I was encountering a very special person. She seemed to know everyone in the occult world and even her scribbles and doodles showed such an incredible command of esoteric thought. As I write in the book, I believe that Colquhoun was arguably the most engaged woman occultist of the 20th century. She spent every day painting and writing about her esoteric life, and in this book we get just a taste of what it must have been like to life a life that was so influenced by occult thought over seven decades. She provides a unique case study, but the fact that she was a woman makes her historically even more rare.  The other thing the book does, and this was really my primary intention, was to show how her life and art reflected the historical and cultural currents in Britain at the time, and how occult practice intersects with wider cultural movements. 

NCI How long did you spend researching Ithell Colquhoun? Can you tell me more about that process? I imagine there’s such a full history to go through that condensing to one book must have been a feat!

AH My journey with Colquhoun has been quite a ride! My initial research for that book started about 20 years ago, and the bulk of it has taken a decade to research and write. The research was mostly self-funded, and involved trips to London to work in the Tate archives for weeks at a time while still working my day job as an online professor. It literally took quitting my job to finish the book because the material is just so complex. I’m not sure I will ever feel done with researching Colquhoun, and I don’t think I ever will be.  Her work was remarkably complicated and every day I feel like I am learning something new, or have a new insight into what she might have been doing.  Her reading and experimentation was incredibly vast.  I have more Colquhoun based projects in the works as well! One book won’t be enough.

NCI What can we expect from "Genius of the Fern Loved Gully"? Were there any surprises you encountered while creating this book? 

AH I think there may be a couple of surprises for readers. First, I am hoping that people will be blown away by the sheer force of her intellect and creativity and her astonishing command of various magical traditions. The woman never stopped moving, thinking, writing and doing. We are really getting to see an amazing case study of a woman who incorporated her occult interests into every facet of her life and as a result saw the world in such an unusual way. I frequently try to imagine, given her love of colour theory and correspondences, what the world looked like through her eyes, when each colour maps to wider abstract ideas and concepts. Every colour, every shape was a code waiting to be revealed, and I think she probably unraveled quite a bit of that.

Then there’s the sex stuff! Her explicit sex magic images from the early 1940s are unlike anything we have ever seen, to my knowledge anyway, created by a woman magician. It wasn’t just heterosexual couples either.  She painted women with women, men with male angels, she was clearly looking beyond traditional magical conceptions of gendered polarity. Colquhoun was never afraid to be in your face about sexual images anyway.  Many of her early botanical images were just lightly masked close ups of genitalia, but the sex magic series is utterly fascinating to me. I think people will also be surprised at the fact that she had an affair with a woman and experienced same sex attraction. For me, this really put another interpretive spin of some of the pieces in her archives that were either implicitly or explicitly vulvic in character. 

I think for me the biggest realisation was, that despite her love of nature, solitude and general anti-modernism, Colquhoun came from a privileged background and that impacted how she saw the world as well. She had a modest trust, traveled frequently, had domestic help, sometimes owned more than one property, and didn’t have to have a job for most of her life. I think that people have envisioned her as being earthy and gritty with her magic, but she believed that magic wasn’t for everyone, it was for those who were ready to receive the messages of the universe. 

NCI How do the Occult and Art link for you?

AH As long as humans have been creating, we have expressed spiritual ideas through art, whether through performance, symbol, or representation. I think all art is meant to take both the artist and the viewer on a journey, and the study of occult and esoteric art raises interesting questions about process and practice that, for me, as a scholar, move between art history and ethnography.

I think in the past scholars who have studied the relationship between art and the occult have focused on the symbolic aspect of “occult art” rather than the process or practice of the artist. Occult practice has not been taken as seriously because it was seen to potentially delegitimise the artist by making them seem, well, nutty, and the same aspersions were also then cast on the researcher. It has been difficult to talk about actual occult practice by artists and writers until I think quite recently. I am not an art historian, though, and because of my academic interests in performance and ritual, my own writings on this topic have been focused on the intersections of art and practice, where the art is part of the magic or the ritual. There are such interesting questions to be asked about how artists experience making art (including ritual, theatre or other performance) as a way of connecting with the numinous, or with ecstasy, and how they communicate that process to the audience. For artists like Barry William Hale, where ritual and performance are so entwined, I am utterly fascinated by his ability to transport the audience using a skilled combination of image and somatic methods. For Ithell Colquhoun, I believe her art was meant to help the viewer cultivate different ways of seeing so that they could penetrate spiritual dimensions.  It was clear that she was trying to achieve that with the processes she worked with in her visual arts and in her writing, which were intensely magical. ◉

In conversation with Sabrina Scott

Sabrina Scott is a tarot reader and teacher based in Toronto, as well as the author of the award-winning graphic novel Witchbody (Weiser Books). I asked them some quickfire questions about their relationship with the tarot (think of this conversation as a three card draw) and what followed is a fascinating insight into the practice of a contemporary card-reading maverick. You can find Sabrina on Instagram @sabrinamscott. 

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Could you tell us which tarot deck do you work with the most often and why?

Every deck has its own energy and its own personality, and so to me it makes some sense that as we move through different phases in our lives we also build and shift our relationships with our tarot decks. There have been times in my life when I've not touched the Rider Waite Smith for months - I've been too fragile coming out of a tough or challenging season, and so during those times I've found The Wild Unknown comforting. Asking which deck I work with most often is like asking what friend I talk with the most, haha! Sometimes it might be one friend, sometimes it might be the other - it just depends what each of us have going on in our lives at that moment, and whether or not our vibes are aligned.

How would you recommend beginners choose their first tarot deck?

Personally, I strongly suggest everyone have an edition of Pamela Colman Smith's illustrated tarot deck, whether that's the Rider Waite Smith edition, the Waite Smith Borderless, or whatever. Her images are absolutely foundational to how tarot is understood today, and it's unavoidable. Becoming proficient in getting to know this deck will open up so many opportunities and pathways to understanding other decks that are inspired by it or based on it (whether loosely or explicitly). A lot of people have fought me on this, found their decks alienating, come back to the RWS, and been like... oh. Her illustrations are just incredibly intelligent and visceral - nothing's extraneous, everything has specific meaning and well-thought-out symbolism - from colour, to gesture, clothing style, composition, everything. As someone trained as a professional illustrator - and who later taught both illustration theory and practice at the university level - Pamela Colman Smith's illustrations impress me more than any other deck, despite how old they are. She was brilliant and her contribution to tarot is so important.

What is unique about your personal approach to the cards?

I don't believe in memorizing, and I believe in personal relavency and connection to the cards. Now that I've been practicing for 20 years, I do make more space to read tarot books for fun - and I must admit, I've been shocked by how common it is for readers to simply see tarot as a psychological tool and/or as metaphor, or 'just a fun party trick.' A surprising number of professional and well-known readers don't seem to acknowledge the energy and beingness within each deck of cards - tarot cards are often seen as 'inanimate objects.' I couldn't disagree more. The cards are alive - they are beings with whom we communicate and collaborate, and when our relationship with our deck is solid, meaningful, and reciprocal, that's when the real magic can happen when we give and receive readings. I see tarot as a collection of vibrant matter, energetic beings worthy of respect - who will reach out and speak loudly if we develop our skills of listening.

I also have an anti-oppressive lens on how I read and teach tarot, which thankfully is becoming slightly more common. By that, I mean I read with an awareness of race, gender, sexuality, disability, body size, class, and all that fun stuff. I bring this framework to how I interpret the cards. One example of what this means in practice is that I don't see cards depicting figures with larger bodies as being about 'greed.' It's just a larger body. Similarly, I don't see cards depicting disabled bodies as being metaphorical. Disability is disability - I don't read it as a 'metaphor' for some kind of temporary setback. In how I teach tarot, I also refer to the cards quite often in a gender neutral way, or use descriptors more along the lines of masculine and feminine, assertive energy and receptive energy - depending on the cards and the deck in question.

I see card reading as a dialogic, conversational process - between myself, my client, my cards, and the spirits and energies which surround me and my other collaborators during the course of the read. I don't believe in giving passive predictions that put my client in the position of passenger in their own life. To the contrary, I'm all about helping folks see the patterns in which they're entrenched, and see different pathways out of it - different choices create different results and a different life. 

In conversation with Toby Froud

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Thra is a living, breathing planet. We first went there in the classic 1983 film from Jim Henson and Brian Froud. Returning to Thra in Netflix’s The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (2019), a serialised prequel to the original film, we see it immediately: the plants, the earth, the rocks, the Gelflings, Podlings, and all the other creatures are very much alive and interconnected.

This world brings to mind the Gaia theory, formulated by James Lovelock in the 1970s, which proposes that Planet Earth is a vast, self-regulating organism. It’s not too different from the way indigenous cultures—and those with animistic beliefs—regard the planet and our place in it.

Brian Froud has spoken openly about his belief in an interconnected world—and his belief in fairies, often seen as aspects of the divine in an animistic worldview. Brian says his inspiration for fairies originally came from the landscape, from trees and rocks, things he always saw as alive, and encompassing spirit. In an interview, he said: “People often ask me, how do you see fairies? And I say, you don’t see them through the eyes, you see them through your heart … So there’s such a thing as real fairies? Of course there is. They live in those in-between states, between waking and dreaming. In the twilight between light and dark. They are spiritual beings that human beings have lived with, forever.”

Fascinated by Brian’s worldview—and his role in creating The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth—earlier this year, I spoke with his son Toby Froud, who so kindly agreed to a phone interview. You may remember him as the baby in Labyrinth—he’s also an artist in his own right, having worked as a sculptor on several film sets. In Netflix’s Age of Resistance, he was design supervisor, collaborating with a team of creatives to bring Thra back to life. 

Elizabeth Kim First I have to ask—you were the baby in Labyrinth—is this first film credit a blessing or a curse?

Toby Froud It’s a blessing. I’ve never considered it to be a curse. I’ve always been honoured that people have loved that movie for as long as they have and that it continues to delight and inspire people. I’m honoured to be a part of it, even though I was, you know, a baby. It’s always been a lovely thing to be a part of. And yes, it did me well in life, I think. 

EK So was it always clear to you growing up that you would follow in your parents’ footsteps with the work that you do?

TF Not necessarily, my parents were very supportive of me in whatever I’ve wanted to do, and art just really was the natural thing. Certainly in our house, obviously, and my parents taught me all sorts of things and that was really nice. So, it was a natural progression, but it wasn’t as though they said “you will do art, you will follow in us.” It was absolutely just more of a “whatever you want to do, we will support you,” and it happened to be that I really enjoyed creating things and making things—certainly costumes and puppets, and sculpting things. That was always really my passion and I just continued. But I didn’t come back to the ‘Froudian’ style, I would say, until I was older. I’d left college by then—I went and did a technical arts course at Wimbledon School of Art, and then I went into the industry, but came back to the ‘Froudian’ style on my own. That felt like coming home to me, so that was nice. 

EK So coming to The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance. How much creative influence did you have as design supervisor?

TF I helped guide the look and feel of the creatures and characters. I was always there helping and working alongside the rest of the team. It was the amazing team that put the things together and I was there to make sure it felt right and to make sure that the essence of my father’s designs were were kept true. I did that in LA, and I did a lot of figuring out if the translation of the drawings and designs into physical form when it came to costumes and layers of different things—the sort of fabrics and textures, and the little sculptural elements that would be applied to them. So we made sure that it felt cohesive and the teams worked. That was great and went along that way until we got to London. Then my father was there as well, and we did that together. We worked together to paint the puppets and costumes, or make sure they had enough things on them or that everything had a cohesion in the right way. You know, a good sense about them depending on Gelflings or Skeksis or other creatures of Thra. I went on set a lot to make sure that things looked right for the scenes we were shooting. So, I was all over the place and very much a part of making sure the puppets were feeling right in the process to what you saw on screen. 

EK And was that setup with you and your father working together quite a new thing? Or something you’d done as a child?

TF We’d always worked together, in different formats and different ways on a lot of smaller projects. As I’ve gotten older my parents and I have all worked together on little projects but this was the biggest undertaking we’ve ever done together and in a true working environment with a whole team around us. That was the amazing part, that we had a collective of truly talented artists, and we were able to say: “how about this?” and “what do you think about this?” and actually work and play with them and figure things out. That was really exciting. But my father and I work well together, and my mother too. You know—we’ve always worked well as a family. That was a real blessing for us, because we are able to work creatively and also get along as a family. 

EK I know that for the original film Jim Henson wanted to build the world and the aesthetic before he wanted to create the story. I’m assuming your dad’s work was the place where it all began. Did you have any kind of input to the narrative of the story?

TF  Yes, for the original, Brian and Jim and the whole team spent several years developing the world, researching and figuring out how it was going to look and feel, and then the story emerged from that, and Jim got the idea. But there were all sorts of things that were being created at that point that survived, and now we have a lore. We have a bible of Thra in a way, of what the landscape feels like and some of the history involved. 

This time around the script came to us. Jeff Addiss and Will Matthews, the two main writers, came on board and wrote the arc for the series. Then they had a whole team of writers working on episodes with them. So, it started there. We then came in, and they would ask us character questions. Logistical questions: if a puppet or creature needed to move a certain way, could we do that. Or, could we design something that helped the story in this way. 

[During] filming we were more involved, making changes along the way. We’d sit and talk to the writers about how we’d achieve something else—changing a Gelfling or making things fit.

EK You mentioned the lore of Thra. I saw your dad speaking about how he and Jim discussed philosophy, spirituality, and religion. Which real ideas from myth, philosophy or folklore went into The Dark Crystal?

TF  There are certainly elements of Nordic or Celtic symbolism, of geometrical symbols and ciphers in the design patterns of Thra. They originally looked at different places, but Brian drew from Dartmoor, Devon. You know, the rocks and the landscape around him there, that has been a real source of inspiration. And that’s what Jim found too. Jim really loved that countryside, and that look and the feel was what he wanted.

But for this series, my father didn’t ever look at reference. He just drew from his mind, and that was really fascinating. He’s got a good knowledge of different places and cultures, but it really is its own planet. Louis Laterrier, the director of Age of Resistance came and visited my parents down in Devon, and they took him down to the little river that’s a couple miles from the house, and because it is very beautiful and it has that feel—we say “this is the feeling of Thra. This is what it should feel like,” and Louis loved that. He said, “this is what I want it to feel like,” and so it is drawing from that actual real landscape. This is true for other artists who live around there as well. Certainly, because Brian and Alan Lee did the Fairies book together whilst living in Devon, and Alan still lives there, close to my parents. They all draw from that same landscape. 

EK Yes, it is a very magical landscape. I’ve also heard your father talking about how, for him, the entities he draws are kind of real. Could you expand on that a bit, this idea that fairies are real?

TF Yeah, certainly there’s a feeling that fairies are real. To us, they are, and I think they are to a lot of people. When creating, it’s about not getting in the way of what’s trying to come through. Being open to seeing the world and the things around you, beyond what you’d usually think of when you think of the countryside—it’s as simple as that. Not being afraid to go where that leads you when it comes to it. Living in that landscape or walking in hills and nature.

We truly do believe in the things that we create and that’s why we’ve never once put something that’s truly evil out into the world—that’s not the point. You always want something, when you’re creating a character, or creating an idea, that has meaning, that has something else to it. It needs a rounded quality no matter what it is. It can be dark but it shouldn’t just be outright scary. But it’s true with everything that we work on, and that stood with my father very much so through the years. 

EK But the Skeksis are terrifying—what’s their redeeming quality?

TF [laughs] They are, yes, they are, and they’re meant to be. They really are true villains, but they are certainly rounded characters and they are in themselves flawed. They can be funny, they can be something else, but they choose this idea of power and certainly are half of the whole that they should be.  

EK Right, so the Mystics and the Skeksis are two halves of one whole. Is that inspired by Taoist idea of Ying and Yang?

TF Oh yeah, absolutely! It is all about the idea of balance and what that physical form may look like. It’s something really interesting because, as we all know, we can be unbalanced in one way or the other most of the time, and it’s hard to find that [balance]. The Skeksis and the Mystics have their journeys, they have done so much apart It’s not until they come back together at the end, in the movie, that they find themselves as a whole, and have the full realisation of what they have gone through or put others through. But yes, it’s truly about finding that balance and also for us depicting and showing that in the physical or creative ways that you see in the Dark Crystal

EK On the topic of balance, or lack of it, many people have praised The Age Of Resistance for its strong message about the climate crisis. I don’t think that’s necessarily unique to the series—this idea of a world out of balance was in the film, too. Would you say that a belief in fairies, or in this case Podlings and Gelflings, might help us see the world in which we are living as something alive rather than something dead to be claimed and exploited? 

TF I think so. Yes, certainly the series and the movie contain a lot of those themes. Thra is a living planet, all the creatures and the physical ground, trees, and plants themselves are all connected and that’s what, as humans here in our world, we’ve very much lost. And we’re trying to find  it again. 

It is about that. A larger portion of us are waking up to the idea that “no, we actually have to protect the planet, and help the planet, and really work together because we are all connected. We can’t live without the planet’s resources or without helping the planet be at its best. Or, we are basically the Skeksis and we are going to destroy it.” That’s what it comes down to. 

What you can do and what you can show with fantasy and with puppets is very powerful. We can show, in physical forms, a lot of ideas that are hard to convey with human actors. With creatures, and with fantasy characters and puppets, you’ll sit and go through that experience and hopefully you come away with this feeling and understanding, like “we should change this” or "I can apply this to my life, I can be as strong as a Gelfling. I can stand up, I can be Hup. I can fight for what’s right, I can go on those journeys and have the confidence to actually tackle life in the same way they’re doing in their world and it’s very important to do that.”

EK That’s so true. I think sometimes when you walk through a forest, you forget that it’s alive, but when you watch The Dark Crystal everything is alive and everything is animated. 

TF Absolutely. 

EK So what can an actor not do that puppets can?

TF I don’t know. Certainly actors can do so much. But I think it’s harder if you’re just doing something with a human. If a bad guy were to drain a human, that would be a really hard thing to show.

EK Yes. It’s terrifying. 

TF A Gelfling is hard enough. You react, you have this visceral moment, like “Oh my god, they destroyed the creature/the Gelfling” and you relate to that, so it’s close enough. But you’re able to show something like that without having the gore, without having the gratuitous nature of certain elements. That’s helpful because it means you’ve got the horror of it, but you’re able to carry on and tell a story, and you can tell it to a much wider audience. 

With puppets and fantasy characters, you reach more people and younger people too, and that’s the interesting thing. We and Netflix always say that The Dark Crystal lives up to its name, and we’re not scared to show this darkness to kids. Whichever hero you relate to on that quest, you can follow them and go on that journey. You can be scared of what’s to come and experience it and learn that you can survive and work through this. You know afterwards that, yes, you have the power and strength to do it yourself. 

EKE: I’ve always liked that about The Dark Crystal. A lot of children’s television and cinema from the past couple of decades has become quite sanitised. Tell me—can we expect a second series? Because I’d really like to know what happens to Deet, and who Jen and Kira are related to. 

TF There are so many questions! It’s hard. Certainly the writers know certain aspects and where it is going. We have an arc, we know what’s to come. Whether we get to show it or not, who knows. That’s up to the viewers—it’s up to you guys and it’s up to Netflix! 

[The Age of Resistance] was an amazing group effort. The team of creators that was brought together were amazing. The people involved were fans, but they were also amazing artists in their own right, just working to this one goal of creating the best possible puppet show that we could. I think we did that and I’m very proud of everyone involved. 

If everyone keeps watching it, then maybe we get a season 2. If people love it enough and people watch it enough, then we will get a second series. We want to tell that story, we feel it’s deserving of it. If you’ve watched it once, turn it on and go to work and leave it running just so it’s watched again. 

EK One last question, please. Is Thra real?

TF The magic of Dark Crystal is that it’s its own planet because there are no humans there and that’s made apparent. There are Gelflings, but they aren’t humans—they’re human-like. People have always been excited about the idea of visiting another world. Well, here’s ours. Here’s Thra—it can be a lovely place and it can also be a very dark and very dangerous place. Thra is real. Maybe if we could travel further in space maybe we would come across Thra and experience it, and that’s the beauty of it. ◉

In conversation with Monique Roffey

Monique Roffey is an award-winning Trinidadian born British writer of essays, a memoir and seven novels most recently The Mermaid of Black Conch. Her novels have been shortlisted for the Costa, Encore and Orange Awards and Archipelago won the OCM BOCAS Award for Caribbean Literature.

Set in 1976 in St Constance, a tiny Caribbean village The Mermaid of Black Conch is the story of a fisherman who sings in his boat and attracts a sea-dweller he doesn’t expect: Aycayia, a young woman cursed by jealous wives to live as a mermaid, swimming in the Caribbean Sea for centuries. But her fascination with David’s song is her undoing, and she is caught by American tourists. It is a powerful magical realist story about a woman who has endured years of loneliness finally finding love. The Mermaid of Black Conch is out on April 2nd, 2020 and available from Peepal Tree Press. Last week, Monique kindly responded to my questions via email.

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Molly Aitken The Mermaid of Black Conch is partly based on a folk legend. I’m curious, what was your journey to writing this novel? How did the idea come to you? 

Monique Roffey I dreamt of her first, and then I was staying in northern Tobago back in 2013, during their annual fishing competition. I saw a large marlin strung up on the jetty and it just went from there. I found myself writing this story years later, in 2016. At first I wondered if I could write the whole book from the POV of a mermaid…but a close friend persuaded me not to and that was a wise decision. The mermaid’s voice does survive in the book, in a kind of free verse….but in the end I decided I wanted the story told via various point of views: a kind of matriarch’s all knowing Caribbean female voice, journal entries, in hindsight, of the fisherman and lover David and of course Aycayia herself. It’s really a love story, or two love stories. I loved writing this book. It all came together quite easily, a kind of perfect storm. Excuse the pun. The book ends with a hurricane!

MA Dreams have a magical quality in the novel, acting at times almost like portents for the characters. You also dreamt about your mermaid before you began writing. Do stories often present themselves to you in dreams or is this one unique? 

MR Yes, many or most of my creative projects start with dreams. They are very important to me; it’s the unconscious trying to reach me and say something. I trust my dreams implicitly. My dreams are saying “look at me”, “follow me”.

MA That’s beautiful. Music is also a magical force in the story. David sings in his pirogue and instead of bringing the fish he attracts Aycayia. It is a form of communication and connection when language fails. Music also seems to usher in transformation, both physical and spiritual? 

MR Music is numinous. Music connects us to the divine aspect of ourselves. Music brings goosebumps, an involuntary reaction to the divine. Humans have been drumming and making music since we lived in caves and were hunter gatherers living in small tribes. The mermaid and the fisherman connect in this way, of course they would, a preverbal, heart connection, a spiritual connection. Most mermaids are known for their ‘sweet voice’. Aycayia hasn’t heard music for millenia, and she is irresistibly drawn to it.

MA Aycayia is a woman from another time, she comes from an indigenous community long wiped out by white settlers. What research were you able to do about this community, their beliefs and stories?

MR Oh, lots of reading went into this. But the most important book I found was A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies, by a priest called Bartolome De Las Casas, who left behind a journal and an eyewitness account of the atrocities of the Spanish when they arrived in the Greater Antilles. They more or less wiped out six million indigenous peaceful and civilised people in fifty years. It’s a very sobering account, an important record. He was horrified at the crimes perpetrated by his own people. This book gave me everything I needed. 

MA In The Mermaid of Black Conch you employ magical realism and contrast it with the realities of the modern setting. In many ways the arrival of Aycayia seems like a return to a simpler time when people were more in tune with nature. There were the birds and the plants, the trees all around, the warm earth; all of it flooded back, her world of living gods. When David, ‘a modern man’ and the mermaid fall in love, it feels like a hopeful wish for rekindling humanities reconnection to nature. Could you speak to this?

MR Yes, that was a central question and concern for the narrative, and I’m afraid the answer is negative. Aycaya has a small band of friends and supporters, but it isn’t enough and the curse proves eternal. Sorry, this book is a tragedy in some ways. However, in her brief time in St Constance, Aycayia also gets to beat the curse too, in that she finds love and makes the rite of passage from girl to woman. She surrenders to erotic love and in this she gains the secrets of loving, kindness and compromise like in the Cupid and Psyche myth. She changes David for sure and shows him how life was, when we were shamanic creatures, very in tune with nature.  I believe we still have a shamanism in our DNA. Everyone can still sense the coming of rain. We don’t need to listen to a weather report. We just know. We all love trees. It’s all still there, this ancient love and affinity for nature. Nature is a cure all. 

MA There is an incredible magical power given to the female characters throughout the book. One way this feminine strength is illustrated is through curses. Aycayia is also a woman who has shamanic instincts. What does female power mean to you in this story?

MR Oh, well, The Feminine is very much forward and centre in the book. Yes, women utter curses, then and now, and guess what, they work. Be careful of what you say. Miss Rain, the woman who teaches the mermaid to speak, and Ayciayia herself are both complex and mysterious. They are both very self contained, too. Priscilla, a local woman who becomes suspicious of Aycayia, is an archetype of a bad witch. Her malevolent energy and intent is as strong as any good witch’s. Her intentions backfire, thankfully, because she asks a rather incompetant man for help, Porthos John. But, left to her own devices, Priscilla is dangerous and Miss Rain knows this. As a woman, I feel a moral duty to give my female characters agency and more, magic and wisdom and power. It’s kind of top of my list of things to do as a writer. 

MA Historically, and today, we have hyper-sexualised the image of the mermaid. However, you turn this on its head with your portrayal of Aycayia. She is a sexual being but her sexuality comes from herself, in her own way rather than the abusive gaze of the American tourists. It feels like this was really consciously portrayed throughout the novel. 

MR Yes, Aycayia embodies the archetype of Virgin. She isn't a Whore (though there’s nothing wrong with whores in my books). She is an Innocent and she is also a freak and a beauty; she is herself. Long dreads and covered in tattoos. I wrote rather long sex scenes that earned their place in the story as they are scenes of a rite of passge. She was cursed to stay a virgin and in those scenes she finds her way into the secrets of erotic love. She is sensual and yet I didn’t want her to be an object of lust. Again, this is her story and she owns it. David is given a chance to step up and into his manhood too. 

MA Where can we read more/learn more about Caribbean folklore?

MR The Caribbean is a polyglot society but, overall, its folklore is mostly of African descent. I would send readers to look into Orisha (for Gods and Goddesses and spiritual deities) and of course with regards to cultural storytelling, the Trickster Anansi is an eponymous folkloric character. We have our own equivalents of vampires and strange magical folk devils. Look up Le Diabless and soucouyants, Duennnes and Papa Bois and Mama D’lo. The Caribbean is rich in lore and we see a lot of this made manifest during carnival too. In Trinidad and Guyana, there are Indian influences too. Each island is its own place. The European influences are also in the mix.