In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

  • To Wright the WitchThe Case of Joanna Baillie's Witchcraft
  • Jane Barnette (bio)

When contemporary playwrights imagine worlds that include witch characters, they frequently do so under the assumption that the accusation of witchcraftstems from ignorance, superstition, or discrimination. More often than not, their so-called witches are outspoken and powerful women who threaten the status quo but do not conjure spells or celebrate the cycles of the moon. The focus in these plays is rarely on literal witchcraft, then—rather, they are signaling the idea of the witch, usually in order to reveal injustice or misogyny. As one of today's most-cited experts on witch culture, Pam Grossman, puts it, "show me your witches, and I'll show you your feelings about women."1

The "craft" in "witchcraft" suggests the act of making something with one's hands, although it can also mean "a skillful contrivance, a device, artifice, or expedient."2 Similarly, the "wright" in "playwright" refers to a kind of material construction: "one who works in wood; a carpenter, a joiner."3 As I suggest with the title of this essay, I seek to "wright the witch" in the following pages—by that, I mean to move beyond writing, to include what Jon D. Rossini calls "a simultaneous process of correction, revision, and cultural repositioning in the act of creating a new conceptual framework."4 This use of "wright" is meant to conjure the witch as spectator and/or reader who does indeed exist: while there is no singular doctrine of witchcraft, there are many individuals who cast spells and perform rituals, in keeping with their particular religious or spiritual tradition of witchcraft.5 For those who identify as witches, this wrighting intervention is a necessary step that has the potential to reframe the way we read, see, and understand witchy women not only onstage but also in everyday life. In seeking [End Page 110] to "wright the witch," I ask: How might practicing witches—both currently and historically—interpret the stage witch as a character?

The urgency for taking this approach stems from the historiography of witches. Frequently, those who write about witches focus on the Burning Times, in part because the legal records provide a (deeply flawed) kind of primary evidence.6 In the wake of the thorough debunking of Egyptologist Margaret Murray's theory about pre-Christian goddess worship, the popular "notion that the witch trials … represented the persecution of an actual rival religion" fell entirely out of favor.7 Instead, scholars have argued for decades that at the root of the witch-craze was misogyny and the overall desire to contain and control women's (and sometimes men's) behavior: to maintain the heteronormative patriarchy of white supremacy undergirding capitalism from its earliest expression onward. This perception is especially persuasive because of how Americans have come to understand the phrase "witch hunt" after the Red Scare of the 1950s, particularly after Arthur Miller's play The Crucible, followed by the revelations of Watergate and Richard Nixon's defensive claim of the "witch hunt" that ultimately led to his resignation. In recent years, especially in the wake of the #MeToo movement and the election of our "predator in chief," as provocateur Lindy West calls former president Trump, purveyors of social media have seen a resurgence of the phrase "witch hunt" used to deflect repeated (and ongoing) attempts to hold powerful men accountable for their corrupt behavior.8

While this take on the European and American purge of witches is not incorrect, it is misleading, insofar as it reinforces the monotheistic outlook of witchcraftas part of the uncivilized and premodern, polytheistic past: it contributes to colonial and missionary mindsets that read any religion that embraces the worship of more than one god as one followed by lost souls who need to be saved (converted). From this perspective, witchcraftis mere superstition, a practice rooted in folklore and ignorance, or—worse yet—it is child's play, mere make-believe. After all, magic is all sleight of hand hokum.

For those of us who make theatre regularly, making believe is our currency—we bank on the fact that we can convince spectators to willingly suspend...

pdf

Share