Heretic: A Memoir

by Jeanna Kadlec

In the months leading up to my wedding, I became obsessed with banshees. A figure of Celtic mythology, the banshee—bean sídhe, or “woman of the fairy mound”—is a feminine spirit whose shriek is said to hail the imminent death of a family member. Banshees vary wildly depending on the source. Some are redheaded young virgins; others, weathered crones with silver, gray, or white hair. They are, unsurprisingly, either astonishingly beautiful or dreadfully ugly, with eyes bright as the clear-blue sky or blood streaked. They can be headless, naked, or shrouded in their funeral vestments. Some banshees are purportedly good-natured protectors of their bloodline, while it is said that others are harbingers of great evil. The unifying factor is that the banshee is always, always a woman whose mournful keen of warning can be heard from beyond her lifetime. Once you’re dead, they have to pay attention to you.