Lucianne Tonti’s deeply personal history of witch hunts overstates the role of misogyny
Good Witch, an investigation of Europe and North America’s infamous witch hunts, is good on historical empathy, but too hard on men in general.
Lucianne Tonti's new book, Good Witch: In Search of Our Lost Feminine Power, explores the history of witch hunts in Europe and North America. Through a combination of case studies and travel diaries, Tonti examines the experiences of women accused of witchcraft, taking readers to the very locations where these trials occurred. The book is structured around five sections: Gardener, Gossip, Spinster, Healer, and Nymph, each delving into the everyday lives of women during the Early Modern period (1500–1789).
These periods saw tens of thousands of women accused and executed for practicing magic and worshipping the Devil, with approximately 85% of the accused being women.
While Tonti successfully highlights various reasons why women might be accused, such as sudden deaths, illness, or persistent bad weather, she acknowledges a common theme: these women were outspoken and often possessed social or economic power that threatened community leaders. She argues that these leaders often took advantage of witchcraft accusations to prosecute and execute women they disapproved of.
A prime example is Katherine Harrison of Wethersfield, Connecticut, who was accused of predicting the future, making bad healing spells, and seeking help from the devil to run her farm after her husband's death in 1666.
Tonti's approach to historical empathy shines in her exploration of the Pendle witches, a well-known case in England. The case involved poor, elderly widow Elizabeth Southerns, her daughter Elizabeth Device, and their grandchildren, Alizon and James. These individuals, along with other neighbors, were accused of murdering ten people through witchcraft in 1612.
Tonti vividly describes the journey the Pendle witches had to undertake, walking from their homes to Lancaster, where they faced trial. She specifically mentions the emotional and physical toll of the journey, emphasizing the fear and uncertainty these women must have experienced.
While the book offers a compelling and insightful examination of witch hunts, Tonti does acknowledge certain limitations. She suggests that many changes in women's social and economic roles in late medieval Europe could be attributed to misogyny, such as the shifting perception of weaving – a traditionally female occupation – from a means of subsistence to one associated with sex work and witchcraft.
This perspective may limit the scope of her analysis, as it focuses on one aspect of women's lives during this tumultuous period.
Written by urgent.news from The Conversation AU's reporting — not their text. Machine-written — may contain errors; check the original before relying on it.
