Waking the Witch: Reflections on Women, Magic, and Power (Witchcraft Bestseller)

by Pam Grossman

A hag in a pointy hat, cackling madly as she boils a pot of bones. A scarlet-lipped seductress slipping a potion into the drink of her unsuspecting paramour. A cross-dressing French revolutionary who hears the voices of angels and saints. A perfectly coiffed suburban housewife, twitching her nose to change her circumstances at will, despite her husband’s protests. A woman dancing in New York City’s Central Park with her coven to mark the change of the seasons or a new lunar phase. The witch has a green face and a fleet of flying monkeys. She wears scarves and leather and lace. She lives in Africa; on the island of Aeaea; in a tower; in a chicken-leg hut; in Peoria, Illinois. She lurks in the forests of fairy tales, in the gilded frames of paintings, in the plotlines of sitcoms and YA novels, and between the bars of ghostly blues songs. She is solitary. She comes in threes. She’s a member of a coven. Sometimes she’s a he. She is stunning, she is hideous, she is insidious, she is ubiquitous. She is our downfall. She is our deliverance.