Hex

by Jenni Fagan

A woman’s voice is a hex. She must learn to exalt men always. If she doesn’t do that, then she is a threat. A demon whore, a witch – so says everyone and the law. So say the King and his guards. So say the witch-pricker and his sadistic friends. So say the husbands, the haters, the wives, the daughters, the God-fearing – demons are always trying to kill them, so they know. So says the hangman who sleeps with Bible in hand.

I appreciate the musicality of the verse/paragraph.

I felt my own bones crunch. Blood leaked out my ears. They held my legs open wide. Rammed things inside me. Metal, sticks, wood, a poker from the fire – until I bled and was raw. They turned me over, Iris . . . everything inside my body felt like it was burning, like I was on fire, like I was already in hell and they were the demons surrounding me, and it is for their crimes I will die!

She writes beautifully! So visceral!

They want to kill us because we create their lives from our bodies. What kind of alchemy is that? What kind of a power? Within our flesh, we make flesh.

Witty and defiant.

I say I am a witch, but it is not really what I believe. We are just women with power and skills and an innate knowledge. That’s what makes us scary. Who are we? We are many.

Her thinking is too contemporary. This feels more like Iris.

To bear witness means to risk your life.

Powerful quote.