Magical Practitioners Research Articles

Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller

Reviewed by: Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller Fiona Hartley-Kroeger Miller, Linsey Belle Révolte. Sourcebooks Fire, 2020 [384p] Trade ed. ISBN 978-1-4926-7922-6 $17.99 E-book ed. ISBN 978-1-4926-7923-3 $17.99 Reviewed from galleys R Gr. 9-12 Wealthy noble Emilie des Marais, desperate to escape ladylike instruction in the midnight arts, convinces impoverished, ambitious commoner Annette Boucher to take her place at finishing school. While Annette learns ladylike skills such as scrying and deportment, Emilie enters university to learn the noonday arts (supposedly suited only to men) and become a physician. As they settle into their respective schools, both girls become entangled in a revolt lead by a mysterious figure called Laurel against the corrupt king. At the heart of the discontent is social inequality exemplified by wealthy magic practitioners' exploitation of hacks (magically talented but poor individuals) to channel magic and displace the physical wear and tear of magic use. The first half of the novel scrambles to assemble its many pieces and establish relationships, but the action hits its stride in the second half when the king declares war on a neighboring kingdom, tension escalates on multiple fronts, and Emilie and Annette dramatically deploy their talents. The novel's strengths really lie in its organic, au courant treatment of gender, sexuality, class privilege, and power. Annette is asexual and romantically attracted to a woman; Emilie's love interest is a trans man; the singular they is deployed seamlessly as a gender-neutral pronoun. Readers hoping for magic school delights should look elsewhere, but social justice enthusiasts and readers with an interest in LGBTQIA representation will find much to enjoy and discuss. Copyright © 2019 The Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois

Negotiating “White Rooster” Magic and Binitarian Christology

The article explores a set of religious and mythical motifs found in a Jewish Babylonian Aramaic magic bowl from the Moussaieff collection (M 163), which includes references to the sun god Šamaš(-Mithra); Jesus, his heavenly Father, and the cross; binitarian Christology; the oppression of the Great Man of the End and Suffering Messiah; a cosmic bird referred to as White Rooster; and a semi-divine angelic figure called ḤRWM AḤRWM. These motifs are situated in the broader context of contemporaneous Jewish Babylonian traditions incorporated in the talmudic, mystical, and magical corpora, on the one hand, and the surrounding Christian, Syro-Mesopotamian, and Iranian cultures, on the other hand. The article contributes to the decentralization of Greco-Roman culture as the sole context for ancient Judaism as well as the decentralization of rabbinic expressions as representative of ancient Jewish culture at large. The cultural mapping of the religious and mythical motifs found in this magic bowl, both within and beyond the confines of Jewish Babylonia, exemplifies the complex and dynamic nature of the participation of Jewish Babylonian magic practitioners, not only in the larger fabric of contemporaneous talmudic, mystical, and magical currents in Jewish culture, but also in the broader framework of the Christian, Syro-Mesopotamian, and Iranian cultures that pervaded the Sasanian East.

El complejo mundo de la retórica mágica: una mirada más allá de la coacción

En la religión greco-romana, los dioses podían escuchar o no la plegaria, acudir o no al ritual, pero generalmente su colaboración estaba garantizada si el ritual se realizaba correctamente, libre de impurezas que lo invalidaran y los dioses eran apropiadamente invocados. Sin embargo, en el contexto de la práctica mágica, donde el agente ritual –el mago o la persona que realiza el rito mágico– actuaba movido por intereses egoístas fuera de un contexto religiosamente sancionado, la colaboración divina no estaba garantizada. Entonces, ¿cómo se lograba esta? En este artículo mi propósito es realizar un elenco de los recursos retóricos y estrategias persuasivas utilizadas en el diálogo con los dioses por los practicantes de magia con el fin de ilustrar el rico abanico de procedimientos empleados en el lógos mágico para lograr el apoyo divino.

Witchcraft and Magic in Ireland by Andrew Sneddon

Reviewed by: Witchcraft and Magic in Ireland by Andrew Sneddon Maeve Callan KEYWORDS Maeve Callan, Andrew Sneddon, witchcraft, Irish Magic, Irish religion, Celtic magic, Irish witchcraft, medieval magic andrew sneddon. Witchcraft and Magic in Ireland. Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015. Pp. 221. Ireland looms large in modern witchcraft traditions, but has received little scholarly attention in witchcraft studies, in part because it saw relatively few trials. Andrew Sneddon's Witchcraft and Magic in Ireland fills in some important gaps in our understanding of witchcraft beliefs and trials since the sixteenth century. Its most important contributions lie in its careful consideration of varying attitudes towards witchcraft and its prosecution among Ireland's three main religious denominations, Catholic, Church of Ireland, and Presbyterian. Sneddon here builds on his previous studies of Bishop Francis Hutchinson, "the only eighteenth-century English witchcraft sceptic living in Ireland in the 1720s and 1730s," and the 1711 Islandmagee trial, which his 2013 book title proclaims "Ireland's only Mass Witchcraft Trial" (106). He skillfully argues that English and Scottish settlers brought their home countries' witchcraft beliefs with them to Ireland and deeply feared malefic witchcraft until the mid-eighteenth century, by which time Protestants had come to regard themselves as "polite, rational, and enlightened" and witchcraft allegations as "self-evidently irrational and ridiculous" (123), something they imputed more to ignorant and superstitious Catholics. Yet, as Sneddon and others note, Ireland's Catholics were far less likely to accuse people of witchcraft than were its Protestants. Sneddon explains this as arising from Irish Catholics' "more benign, culturally-specific witch figure [who] was not threatening enough to warrant legal proceedings" (146). They saw witches primarily as butter-thieves who "were easily combatted by religious, magical, or ritualistic means, and consequently they posed a minimal economic and social threat to their communities" (54). In addition, fairy beliefs offered Irish Catholics a more compelling explanation for mysterious misfortune than did witchcraft allegations. Both Catholics and Protestants, however, continued to believe in the power of "cunning-folk," magical practitioners who could heal and help counter supernatural afflictions of people and property, especially crops and animals, and Sneddon ably integrates attitudes toward and allegations against such individuals into his analysis. He also diligently considers scholarship on witchcraft in Ireland since the sixteenth century, especially works by St. John Seymour, Raymond Gillespie, Ronald Hutton, and Elwyn Lapoint, and carefully contextualizes Irish developments with those occurring in England and Scotland. Yet, while Sneddon's Witchcraft and Magic in Ireland fills some significant gaps, it also creates new ones, especially if it becomes the standard study of [End Page 254] the subject, as it has the potential to do. His title should include the qualifier, "from the sixteenth to the twentieth century." His discussion of medieval evidence is preliminary at best, and all of his chapter titles rightly specify that they explore either early modern or modern Ireland. His treatment of the 1324 Kilkenny trial of Alice Kyteler and her alleged accomplices is breathtaking in its brevity, consisting mainly of four sentences, two of which contain inaccuracies (Alice had eleven, not ten, alleged accomplices, and we know only that she escaped from Kilkenny, not that she fled to England, as Sneddon asserts) (16). Tried by the English-born, French-trained, Franciscan bishop of Ossory, Richard de Ledrede, who was handpicked out of obscurity for the office by Pope John XXII, the case plays a pivotal role in European prosecution of witchcraft, marking the dawn of the devil-worshipping witch. Consequently, it regularly features in general studies of European witch trials, yet Sneddon, who focuses specifically on witchcraft in Ireland, scarcely considers it. He briefly mentions it at two other points, once to note that Seymour included it in his 1913 Irish Witchcraft and Demonology (71), and again to note that in 1781 Hibernian Magazine proclaimed it "a frightful picture of the effects of superstition and ecclesiastical tyranny" (112). Sneddon's index omits the Kyteler case in its references to Irish witch trials (221), and his overall neglect of the case results in significant misrepresentations, such as claiming William Sellor as "the only male formally prosecuted for witchcraft in Ireland" (90), though four of Alice...

<em>Bayonetta</em>: A Journey through Time and Space

<em>Bayonetta</em>: A Journey through Time and Space

Magic in the Cloister: Pious Motives, Illicit Interests, and Occult Approaches to the Medieval Universe by Sophie Page (review)

Reviewed by: Magic in the Cloister: Pious Motives, Illicit Interests, and Occult Approaches to the Medieval Universe by Sophie Page Kathleen Kamerick KEYWORDS Kathleen Kamerick, Sophie Page, medieval magic, Christian magic, Magic in History, Abbey of St. Augustine, monastic magic Sophie Page. Magic in the Cloister: Pious Motives, Illicit Interests, and Occult Approaches to the Medieval Universe. University Park, Pennsylvania: Penn State University Press, 2013. Pp. xi + 232. The late medieval library of the wealthy Benedictine abbey of St. Augustine in Canterbury contained an extraordinary collection of books, one of the largest in England. Its almost two thousand volumes included at least thirty texts that can be called magical. In this library an occult work might occupy its own volume, or form one part of a volume that contained other less problematical genres. Some of this magical literature entered the library through donations from monks: so, for example, one William de Clara brought with him fourteen volumes of scientific works and also the extraordinary Liber de quindecim stellis that explains how to channel the influence of the stars into talismans. A subprior owned three lapidaries describing the occult powers of stones, and another monk endowed the library with texts on geomancy and astrology. The monk known as John of London donated eighty-five volumes that included texts on a wide array of occult practices, including the Ars Notoria, image magic texts, astrology, and many more. St. Augustine’s library clearly distinguished itself by its size, richness, and, as Sophie Page demonstrates, its stunning evidence for the tolerance and even encouragement of the study of magic in a period when magic faced increasing hostility and outright condemnations. Page investigates several issues that this remarkable library presents, among the most crucial being the conditions that allowed these magical texts to become part of monastic life. The monks clearly realized that studying certain works of magic—including some they owned—could be dangerous. She offers several possibilities for understanding the presence of these works in their library, first suggesting that the monks might see their vocation as a protective cloak against magic’s dangers. More surprising is her finding that creative cataloguing in the monastic library created a safe haven for some occult works by shelving them in sections with more orthodox volumes. In addition, certain forms of magic fell through holes in the nets of condemnation issuing from Paris and elsewhere. Magical texts in Arabic, Greek, and [End Page 251] Hebrew, for instance, offered new “knowledge and useful practical arts” (30). Chapter 2 shows how natural magic, as part of the larger study of natural science, found acceptance even as the clouds of suspicion gathered. Page’s detailed study of the contents of certain manuscripts in St. Augustine’s library reveals, for instance, that material on the magical uses of animal parts or instructions for creating marvels can be found alongside subjects like surgery. Four chapters take up specific texts to show how monastic study and devotions could accommodate their magical contents. Chapter 3 examines the Liber Vaccae, translated from a ninth-century Arabic text and bursting with experiments for the magical practitioner to try his hand at. The St. August-ine’s copy was paired with a safer text, the Latin translation of Ibn al-Jazzar’s Kitab al-khawass called De proprietatibus, an immediate context that Page believes allowed readers to see the Liber Vaccae in the “safe context of natural magic” (54) even though it gave instructions for creating rational animals from organic matter. The Liber Vaccae clearly challenged orthodoxy and was widely condemned; its transgressions led to the removal of certain parts in the St. Augustine’s copy, but even so its presence in the library seems daring. In Chapter 4 Page focuses on image magic, deftly examining its various strains in popular and learned traditions. Writings on image magic comprised a distinctive genre among the magical works in St. Augustine’s library, with sixteen separate texts and many more copies and excerpts. Despite fears of idolatry and concerns voiced by thinkers like Thomas Aquinas that magical characters were part of a demonic pact, Page clearly shows how monastic readers could interpret image magic within a Christian context...

Investigating the Magical Practice found in PGM (Greek Magical Papyri) XIII

PGM XIII is a Greco-Egyptian magical papyri dated to the mid fourth century CE. It contains at least two versions of a rite to summon the creator god and gain his name, which is then used in further spells also included in the papyrus. This paper examines the practices involved in this rite and explores their theoretical underpinning, investigating timing, writing and symbolism to expose the interconnectedness implicit in the ancient worldview and the place of magic within it. The magical papyri are documents which reflect the methods and experience of actual magical practitioners rather than literary depictions. These accounts and methods contextualise magic within an ontological world view.

“And It Was in the Dwelling of Rabbi Joshua bar Peraḥiah”

Jewish Babylonian Aramaic incantation bowls frequently refer to the notion of exorcising demons by divorcing them. These texts sometimes purport to be anti-demonic divorce writs, borrowing passages directly from the traditional rabbinic certificate of divorce (geṭ). Here I ask how the authors of these texts perceived the bowl amulets to operate and how they understood the concept of divorcing a demon. Some scholars have argued that late antique Jewish magical practitioners regarded divorce bowls as legal devices with the immediate power to expel demons from houses. Other scholars interpret the anti-demonic divorce motif in more metaphoric terms. I argue that divorce bowls were not seen as legally binding documents and that Jewish magical practitioners did not believe themselves capable of applying the rabbinic laws of divorce to demons. Instead, incantation bowls refer to the anti-demonic geṭ in order to allude to a mythological narrative in which Rabbi Joshua bar Peraḥiah exorcises Lilith by divorcing her. I explain the function of this mythological allusion through close analysis of several incantation bowls. I also draw on folkloristic scholarship regarding narrative devices in magical texts.

The Way of the Táltos: A Critical Reassessment of a Religious-Magical Specialist<br>Pota taltosov: Kritično ovrednotenje posvečenca v religijo in magijo</br>

For a long time, Hungarian scholars debated the origin and structure of Hungarian folk religion and folk beliefs. This article considers the relevance of shamanism to Hungarian folk belief, especially the complex surrounding the taltos. This Hungarian magical practitioner reveals connections both with historical magical specialists and with recent ethnographical materials. There are, however, important questions that must be answered: for example, how does the taltos figure in Hungarian religion, magic, and folkloric practices appear? What are the specific connections with neighbouring South Slavic, Romanian and western magical practices? And, finally, how does the taltos belief relate to linguistic, symbolic and bodily expression in Hungarian traditional culture? This article attempts to answer some of these questions by focusing on body symbolism, the mythical horse symbolism, and possible altered states of consciousness phenomena.

Expertise among professional magicians: an interview study.

The purpose of the present investigation was to analyse interviews of highly regarded Finnish magicians. Social network analysis (N = 120) was used to identify Finland's most highly regarded magicians (N = 16). The selected participants' careers in professional magic and various aspects of their professional conduct were examined by relying on semi-structured interviews. The results revealed that cultivation of professional level competence in magic usually requires an extensive period of time compared with other domains of expertise. Magic is a unique performing art and it differs from other professions focusing on deceiving the audience. A distinctive feature of magical expertise is that the process takes place entirely through informal training supported by communities of magical practitioners. Three interrelated aspects of magical activity were distinguished: magic tricks, performance, and audience. Although magic tricks constitute a central aspect of magic activity, the participants did not talk about their tricks extensively; this is in accordance with the secretive nature of magic culture. The interviews revealed that a core aspect of the magicians' activity is performance in front of an audience that repeatedly validates competence cultivated through years of practice. The interviewees reported investing a great deal of effort in planning, orchestrating, and reflecting on their performances. Close interaction with the audience plays an important role in most interviewees' activity. Many participants put a great deal of effort in developing novel magic tricks. It is common to borrow magic effects from fellow magicians and develop novel methods of implementation. Because magic tricks or programs are not copyrighted, many interviewees considered “stealing” an unacceptable and unethical aspect of magical activity. The interviewees highlighted the importance of personality and charisma in the successful pursuit of magic activity.

Magic in the Russian Marketplace: Creating Trust

Focussing on a commercial magic specialist (mag) well-known in Petersburg today, the article examines the strategies adopted by her and others to gain the confidence of their clientele. It opens by examining the levels of social trust in Russia, arguing that distrust and feelings of defenselessness encourage a sizeable proportion of Russians with the traditional view that problems are externally generated, to think of turning for help to magic practitioners. With magic services derided in the media and condemned by the Church, the magic specialist NPP must counter this negative image as well as promote her services above those of her competitors. Whereas in 2006 she relied on press advertising and recommendation by satisfied customers, in 2012 her main promotional tool is her website. The article examines the specific ways in which she tackles the creation of a trustworthy image. Since magic services offer a kind of therapy, another aspect examined in detail is the relationship with psychology and psychotherapy. It is suggested that from the early 1990s to around 2005 magic specialists sought to hijack psychotherapy, but that more recently links have been played down as magic practitioners define their potential clientele more clearly. The article offers reasons for this, and speculates on future developments.

A Family Matter: The Case of a Witch Family in an Eighteenth-Century Volhynian Town

Belief in the inheritance of witchcraft abilities from generation to generation is common to many cultures. Early modern Ukraine was not an exception. A series of cases from Volhynian town of Vyzhva is discussed here to illustrate how reputation for malevolent witchcraft could be once shaped and then continued to adhere to a family line, and how small town community preserved a memory about witchcraft for many years. This story is juxtaposed to other stories about succession of magical abilities by such magic practitioners as soothsayers, healers, wise men, etc. for whom the “magic reputation” of their parents was important to justify and support their own activities in the eyes of their clients.

“If the government were not here we would kill him” – continuity and change in response to the Witchcraft Ordinances in Nyanza, Kenya, c.1910–1960

The Kenyan Witchcraft Ordinances, passed by the British administration in 1909 then revised in 1918 and 1925 represented an attempt by the colonial government to control the punishment of a variety of magical practitioners. This article examines how successfully they were applied in Nyanza. Administrators and judges were forced to recognise their own ignorance of what constituted an offence and leave definitional control of witchcraft in the hands of local people, especially after 1933 when Native Tribunals were authorised and actively encouraged to hear most of the cases. There remained a fundamental incompatibility between the “cognitive map” that underpinned beliefs in the power of magic and a colonial rational–legal judicial system that relied on empirical evidence. Despite indications to the contrary, British officials persisted in their claim that such “superstitions” would naturally decline with the advance of education. In this context the colonial mindset had a lesser claim to reality than belief in the power of magic.

The Cult of the Seely Wights in Scotland

This article reveals the existence of a shamanistic cult centring on the “seely wights,” Scottish fairy-like nature spirits. Cult members entered trances and reportedly flew out at night, on swallows, to join the seely wights. In daily life they were magical practitioners. The cult is discussed in a comparative European framework.

Magic in the Ancient Greek World

Magic in the Ancient Greek World

Cunning Folklore: The Meaning of "Superstition" in Early Modern Europe

Simultaneous with the European witch craze, early modern scholars began to collect the superstitious practices of the lower classes into writing. It was a task of compiling charms, spells, and rituals of a people thought to be vanishing and a lifestyle no longer deemed current. Schoalrs today erroneously label these lower classes "cunning folk." These practitioners of magic were not confined to a particular group but rather represented the lower class worldview in general. What is most useful about these folklore texts, however, is their revelations about early modern intellectual culture. These texts are a particular genre of literature, addressing the cultural context in which they were written in order to elucidate what contemporaries believed about magic practitioners and what these beliefs indicate about their intellectual worldview. What becoms clear is that the cultural meanings and functions of magic practitioners in these texts are inextricably tied to changing discourses concerning religion, medicine, and antiquarianism. Superstition in early modern Europe was thus used as a foil for "right thinking" and casts light on the concerns and prejudices of the educated class.

Coming Home or Drifting Away: Magical Practice in the Twenty-First Century—Ways of Adopting Heterodox Beliefs and Religious Worldviews

This article examines the process-related dynamics of becoming a magical practitioner and an adherent of a Neopagan group, respectively. It analyzes the relation of the thesis of Interpretive Drift (Luhrmann) and the concept of Coming Home Experience, which have a big impact on academic discussions and are often seen as mutually contradictory. Using empirical data from two German interview studies with contemporary magicians and German heathen (Ásatrú) groups, the article shows that the two dynamics can form complementary elements of the process. In addition, it emphasizes the importance of personal extraordinary experiences containing strong subjective evidence which are mostly neglected. Taking individual biographical aspects into account as well as different personal motivations, an immense variety of approaches to alternative worldviews might become possible. Thus we come to the conclusion that simple generalizations in characterizing the ‘pathway to magical beliefs and practices’ are misleading.

Magic in the Ancient Greek World (review)

Reviewed by: Magic in the Ancient Greek World Stephen Morris Derek Collins . Magic in the Ancient Greek World. Oxford: Blackwell, 2008. Pp. xiv + 207. A welcome addition to the Blackwell Ancient Religion series, Collins's study of ancient Greek magical practices both elucidates the practices while examining the mental constructs that support them and suggests avenues for further study. It is a well-written and incisive investigation that opens a world to both specialists and nonspecialists alike. Collins points out that "magic fascinates because we don't understand how others can believe it" (p. 166). He goes a long way in explaining how those beliefs operated. The study is divided into five chapters that focus on a review of attitudes toward magic, providing a framework for Greek magic in particular, the use of figurines in erotic magic and curses, the use of verses from Homer as powerfully evocative incantations, and the legal attitudes toward magic and how those survive into Roman and medieval Western practices. In his examination of figurines used in magic, Collins admits that they often "in no way resemble the human beings who serve as their targets. . . . [the] clay or waxen images at times are lumpy and unshapely, at best rude examples of the persons they are supposed to represent" (p. 18). It is the name of the figurine that identifies the figure with the victim, much as in later practice it is the name inscribed on the (Greek) icons that identify the image with the particular saint. When he turns to questions of health and healing magic (in the context of binding curses), Collins argues that ancient authorities on these matters misunderstood their own subject and that modern interpretations have been too willing to accept ancient authors at their own word. Collins situates the ancient text "On the Sacred Disease" in terms of other ancient discussions of health and illness and concludes that epilepsy, the "sacred disease," is a broader category than one particular ailment; health is equated with "not epileptic," and epilepsy is therefore whatever is "not healthy" (p. 82). He then shows that the curse tablets that enumerate which victim's various body parts are to be afflicted become longer and more specific over time. These extended lists of targeted organs and limbs are indicative of a variety of approaches to the self and may also reflect certain practices related to juridical [End Page 224] torture as well as the conceptual disintegration of the person as an integrated whole instead of simply the sum of his or her parts (pp. 83 ff). When discussing the deposition of erotic figurines (meant to arouse sexual attraction and desire) in the sea, Collins provides interpretations that associate sweat, and hence water, with procreation (p. 118), but it seems that the sea as birthplace of Aphrodite might also be a reasonable explanation for the practice. Regarding the use of Homer's verses (rather than poetry in general) as incantations, this is rooted, Collins argues, in the Neoplatonic opinion that "Homeric poetry preeminently embodied the divinity which also inspired its expression" and that Homer's poetry "still contained divine power" and "retained a sympathy between the cosmic and material world order" (p. 131) as an early form of the later magical principle, "as above, so below." In discussing legal attitudes toward magic, Collins reveals that professionals whose spells go awry or cause illness and death are punished more severely than are amateurs, perhaps because of the reasonable expectation that "professionals should know better" (p. 140). It is also in his examination of legal attitudes toward magic that Collins turns to "one of the most important capital sentences issued with respect to the legislative history of magic," that of burning alive (pp. 161–64). This is perhaps the best known and most long-lived of the punishments for magical practitioners. But its origins are obscure and while Collins suggests possible sources for this practice, its ultimate source is lost in the mists of time. Correctly pointing out that magic is not a static set of immutable practices (p. 169), Collins suggests several avenues for further study and examination of Greek practices. These include the Roman preference to name internal organs...

Prolegomena to the Study of the Jewish Magical Tradition

Recent years have seen a steady rise in the scholarly interest in Jewish magic. The present paper seeks to take stock of what has already been done, to explain how further study of Jewish magical texts and artifacts might make major contributions to the study of Judaism as a whole, and to provide a blueprint for further progress in this field. Its main claim is that the number of unedited and even uncharted primary sources for the study of Jewish magic is staggering, and that these sources must serve as the starting point for any serious study of the Jewish magical tradition from antiquity to the twenty-first century. Such a study must both compare the Jewish magical texts and practices of each historical period with those of the contemporaneous non-Jewish world, and thus trace processes of cross-cultural contacts and influences, and compare the Jewish magical texts and practices of one period with those of another, so as to detect processes of inner-Jewish continuity and transmission. Finally, such a study must flesh out the place of magical practices and practitioners within the Jewish society of different periods, and within different Jewish communities.

The Realities of Witchcraft and Popular Magic in Early Modern Europe: Culture, Cognition, and Everyday Life

As the literature on early modern witchcraft and magic grows ever larger, so it becomes increasingly rare to encounter works on the subject that break new ground. This is decidedly not the case with Edward Bever's The Realities of Witchcraft and Popular Magic which, as its title suggests, sets out to challenge a whole series of approaches to this historical phenomenon that have dominated academic understandings of the subject for the last 40 years or more. The thrust of Bever's argument is a tantalisingly simple one—namely, that a wide range of activities ascribed to early modern witches and other magical practitioners were real and can be explained, or partly explained, by recourse to a wide range of modern medical and scientific insights focused on the relationship between mind and body. In an opening section of this long and detailed book, Bever sets out to show how it is possible to apply much of this new knowledge on the psychosocial causation of disease to specific case studies drawn from his own doctoral research into witchcraft in the early modern duchy of Württemberg.