A final warning from Strindberg’s Inferno

This is the final article in the series that was originally inspired by Colin Wilson’s references in The Occult to Swedish playwright August Strindberg, his string of misfortunes and his autobiographical novel Inferno.

If there is one message to be taken from Inferno, it is a warning against habitually dealing with people and getting through life by using occult as opposed to natural methods. This article has something to say about the two ways of operating.

It is not just a matter of ethics; the backfiring feature and the long-term detrimental effects on the occult practitioners and their lives are also very relevant.

As has been mentioned previously, Strindberg regretted frivolously playing with hidden forces and warned people against doing the same. He said:

“Above all things, beware of occultism, that caricature of science.”

This article summarises some of the consequences to Strindberg of playing with fire in this way.

Inner torment and outer disaster

Strindberg endured much inner distress during his life. He also experienced many misfortunes and some major disasters. Not all of this was inevitable; he brought some of it on himself by attracting malign influences into his life.

While only a few of Strindberg’s long string of misfortunes can be directly attributed to his attempt to make his little girl ill by the use of black magic, many of the unpleasant things that happened to, through and around him are likely to be directly or ultimately connected to the abuse of occult powers on various occasions by him and some of the people in his life. As for his inner state, while some of his suffering was innate his occult practices made it much worse.

August Strindberg and some suspicious deaths

August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno is inspiring post after post. It is full of material relevant to this blog.

It took three articles to cover the story of the relationship between August Strindberg and his secret friend, the man who was determined to make Strindberg admire the works of Madame Blavatsky and become a theosophist.

The relationship operated on three levels: it can be looked at in terms of two men quarrelling and falling out, a cult member attacking a target who refused to be recruited and two black magicians having an occult battle.

There is something more to say the black magic aspect. This article will cover some suspicious deaths that Strindberg mentions in connection with the battle and its aftermath, the battle that took place only in their letters and on other dimensions as they never met in real life.

The first two deaths

Two prominent men just happened to die shortly after something relevant by Strindberg had been published, and the secret friend believed that Strindberg had caused the deaths.

In Strindberg’s own words:

“By a diabolical chance during our paper war, the following incident takes place: L'Initiation publishes an article by me which criticises the current astronomical system. A few days after its appearance Tisserand, the head of the Paris observatory, dies. In an access of mischievous humour I trace a connection between these two things, and mention also that Pasteur died the day after I published Sylva Sylvarum.

My friend, the theosophist, does not know how to take a joke, and being superstitious above the average, and perhaps, more deeply initiated in black magic than I, gives me clearly to understand that he regards me as a wizard.”

So Strindberg thought that the two deaths were just coincidences, but his secret friend blamed him for them. When it comes to the attribution of sinister occult powers, it is a case of the pots calling the kettles black. The two men really did deserve each other!

Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part III

There is more than one way of looking at the story of August Strindberg and his secret friend.

Not only can we see it as a falling out between a cult member and the person he targeted for cultivation and recruitment, we can also treat it as an occult war between two black magicians. Either way, we have two men quarrelling in a very uncivilised and low-class way.

These scenarios or interpretations of events are not mutually exclusive; they all have relevance to the case. This final article in the series will cover these different dimensions of Strindberg’s story.

The cult member and the target

The secret friend’s persistence is sinister. Surely a normal, decent person would have realised long ago that Strindberg was just not buying Madame Blavatsky and her ideology and given up trying to sell to and recruit him.  He sounds just like one of those Multi-level Marketers who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer! 

Strindberg says that this man was very anxious for him to give a good opinion of Blavatsky’s book. His reaction to Strindberg’s criticism is a classic, textbook example of a cult member’s behaviour when the cult leader or the ideology is criticised or someone refuses to join after being targeted.

So why exactly was this man so determined to recruit Strindberg and why did he react the way he did when he finally failed?

I get the impression that some cult members are controlled - or even possessed - and under orders; I sense fear in addition to anger: they behave as if they will be terribly punished if they don’t complete their assignments successfully. They will pay for it if the targeted prey escapes.

David St. Clair’s string of misfortunes

I first learned about August Strindberg’s string of misfortunes from Colin Wilson’s book The Occult.

I found another case of interest in Beyond the Occult, where Colin Wilson gives a summary of the run of ’bad luck’ experienced by the American journalist David St. Clair.

This ‘curse or coincidence?’ case has inspired an article because of some familiar features and resemblance to other cases.

As with Strindberg’s troubles, there is an obvious starting point and an obvious - and metaphysical - cause. There is a difference in that Strindberg brought his trouble on himself whereas St. Clair was an innocent victim.

Both men experienced good patches in their lives immediately before the trouble started: Strindberg had a few good months in Paris, while David St. Clair lived a very pleasant life for eight years in Rio de Janeiro before everything started to go wrong.

Strindberg endured a long period of misfortunes, while St. Clair’s spell of bad luck did not last very long.

The misfortunes in summary

Just about everything that could go wrong in David St. Clair’s life did go wrong, and it all happened suddenly.

He was working on a book at the time, but he became stuck and his publisher rejected it.

An inheritance he had been expecting failed to materialise.

A love affair went wrong, and he fell ill with malaria.

His plans for moving to Greece had to be abandoned.

The cause and the culprit

A psychic friend stopped David St. Clair in the street and told him that someone had put a curse on him and that all his paths had been closed. This reminds me very much of the ‘closing all avenues’ feature I have mentioned a few times.

St. Clair took this diagnosis seriously; he came to suspect that the culprit was the maid who looked after his apartment.

John Masefield and the magic of Christmas Eve

The writer and poet John Masefield’s two children’s books The Midnight Folk (1927) and its sequel The Box of Delights (1935) have been previously mentioned on here because of the witch Sylvia Daisy Pouncer.

Sylvia Daisy plays a much larger part in The Midnight Folk than she does in The Box of Delights, but the latter book is of interest for other reasons. 

Masefield’s words create beautiful pictures in the imagination - the descriptions of winter and the Christmas season are particularly good - and invoke positive magical influences which are ideal for helping to counteract seasonal depression and the sinister forces that are active at this time of year. 

The story, which features magic, adventure, time travel, sinister wolves, brave children and the battle between good and evil, begins a few days before Christmas with the young hero Kay Harker returning from boarding school for the holidays; it ends on Christmas Eve with a joyful and triumphant midnight service in the Cathedral. 

It is interesting that Sylvia Daisy Pouncer and her evil associates try to prevent this service from being held. As was mentioned in this article, disrupting the midnight service on Christmas Eve is a big coup for practitioners of black magic.

A six-episode BBC TV series was made in 1984. Although for me books are always best and many associated films make me feel furious, disappointed and disgusted, I have found this series to be worth watching. I like the theme music very much.

The Box of Delights series is available on DVD, and some kind person has loaded the episodes onto YouTube.

I may come back to John Masefield’s children’s book again. In the meantime, I hope that this brief description and strong recommendation will inspire people who haven’t already discovered The Box of Delights to investigate this wonderful book and its TV adaption. 

Depression at Christmas

Some of what I said in the article about depression at the autumnal equinox can also be applied to the Christmas holiday season: the winter solstice too may subtly affect us. 

There are obvious additional and external factors when Christmas is involved, however there is sometimes more to it than being overwhelmed and demoralised by practical problems: evil forces may be abroad!

I realised a while back that even if there are no energy vampires, emotional blackmailers and other undesirables in our lives, we can still be influenced negatively by people in general. 

I have found that Christmas is a time when this is particularly noticeable. There is a lot of stress, tension, misery and general bad energy in the air, in the big cities at least, and some sensitive people pick it all up. 

We may be badly affected by the cumulative inner states of both the large numbers of people who are rushing around with too much to do and too little time to do it in and the many unhappy, isolated people for whom this is the worst time of year. 

Then there are the intoxicated ones, people who have been celebrating - or trying to escape - the festive season. People who are under the influence of something are often frightening and dangerous because they are out of control; they may be also be surrounded, affected or even controlled by malign entities that their inner state has attracted.

During the run up to Christmas, the streets are filled with hordes of people moving like zombies on the march. I don’t get caught up in the spending frenzy and the Christmas madness myself; I find it all alarming and incomprehensible.  

I do usually go out to see the best Christmas lights and shop windows, but I try to go at relatively quiet times.

Elizabeth Goudge’s Linnets and Valerians: Part IV

This final article in the series contains some miscellaneous thoughts about Elizabeth Goudge’s Linnets and Valerians (aka The Runaways) and her witch Emma Cobley.

We begin with the J. K. Rowling connection and some accusations of paganism.

Elizabeth Goudge and J. K. Rowling

In 2001, J. K. Rowling gave an interview in which she said that Elizabeth Goudge’s The Little White Horse was one of her favourite childhood books and it was an inspiration for the Harry Potter series.

I am guessing that J. K. Rowling at some point investigated other books by Elizabeth Goudge. Her account of the witch Merope Gaunt, who came from a humble background and who probably bewitched the handsome and wealthy Tom Riddle Senior with a love potion, reminds me very much of the story of Emma Cobley and Hugo Valerian.

Christianity and paganism

J. K. Rowling’s recommendation of Elizabeth Goudge probably revived interest in an author who was no longer well known.

Some new readers may not have been too pleased with what they found.

Elizabeth Goudge’s books have been criticised for being sickly sweet and sentimental. I can see that they, or at least parts of some of them, may not be much to the taste of the modern reader.

Another drawback may be the religion: Elizabeth Goudge’s books are Christian in outlook, containing such themes as sacrifice, conversion, discipline, healing, and growth through suffering. This too might put some people off.

It is much the same with Madeleine L’Engle’s books: some people enjoy reading them despite the sweetness and religious references.

Elizabeth Goudge’s Linnets and Valerians: Part III

Some of the material in Elizabeth Goudge’s book Linnets and Valerian is related to topics featured in other articles. These articles were written long before I read this book, so it provides yet more independent confirmation of some of my ideas.

This article includes more connections to existing articles, with references to attack dogs, getting what we want, lions’ mouths and rowan trees.

The attack-dog syndrome

I noticed one very subtle and one very obvious example of the attack-dog syndrome, which has been covered elsewhere.

This is the subtle and mild example:

We are told that the vicar who preceded Uncle Ambrose was fond of the witch Emma Cobley and would never believe the stories told about her in the village.

We are not told anything more, but I would bet that he became annoyed and said something like, “How can you say these things about such a fine person?” Maybe he even sternly told them not to bear false witness!

Someone in his position should have taken the accusations very seriously; not doing so is a dead giveaway that something is very wrong. His reaction is a sign that the stories are probably true.

This is the obvious and potentially very serious example:

When the children first go into the village, they see an inn called The Bulldog. They learn from an old postcard that the inn formerly had a wonderful bird on its sign. They also learn that the inn is owned by some of Emma Cobley’s unpleasant associates.

The inn has a fierce bulldog on its swinging sign. A huge and ugly bulldog sits in the doorway and growls at the children.

Just like Emma Cobley’s cat, the bulldog grows to an enormous size and attacks the children. Emma and her associates are also involved in this attack, which the children brought on themselves by not obeying Emma’s orders to stay away from a particular area.

One of the gang later greets the children in a friendly way. Inflicting or attempting to inflict serious blows and injuries and expecting the victims to carry on as if nothing had happened is another game that people who are under evil influences play.

Everything changes for the better once Emma’s figurines have been burned. There are no more attacks, and Emma replaces the inn sign with a picture of a beautiful peregrine falcon.  

Elizabeth Goudge’s Linnets and Valerians: Part II

The first part of this article introduced the witch Emma Cobley and her black magic. There is a lot more to say about her, her magic and her adversary Uncle Ambrose.

Magic making

Emma Cobley performs her black magic literally by the book - a spell-book that she wrote herself. She also makes potions, draws diagrams and sticks pins in figurines made from mandrake roots. She uses ingredients such as animal blood, boiled frogs and wolf’s bane.

This is all very traditional.

One of her potions makes a man dote upon a woman. It is possible that she used this one on Hugo Valerian. If so, his promise to marry her was obtained illegitimately. This is similar to what happened in the case of Helen Penclosa and Austin Gilroy.

The retired doctor whose housekeeper Emma became was very fond of her: he educated her; he left her some money when he died. She was able to live quite like a lady.

We are not told whether or not Emma used any of her potions and spells on the doctor to get his money and his knowledge. We are told that she was beautiful, clever and quick to learn, which together with the fact that he left his house and most of his money to his sister suggests that she did not. She just used her natural attributes to charm him.

It is a pity that she didn’t do this to find someone else after Hugo Valerian rejected her instead of taking revenge on him.

Another of her spells causes a man and woman who love each other to become estranged; it is very likely that she later used this one on Hugo and Lady Alicia.

The spells that she used may have affected her for the worse.

By using spells that cut people in a relationship off from each other, Emma may have activated forces that isolated her from the good, decent people in her village and prevented her from finding someone else. She never married and associated mainly with unpleasant people.

Elizabeth Goudge’s Linnets and Valerians: Part I

Best-selling novelist Elizabeth Goudge is not one of my favourite authors, although I do like some aspects of some of her books.

I heard of Linnets and Valerians only recently. When I learned that one of the characters is an evil witch, I got a copy in the hope that there would be enough suitable material for an article or two.

I found that much of the book is not about the witch and is not very relevant to this blog. However, some elements are worth a mention and there are a few connections to be made.

Linnets and Valerians

This amusing little book, which was first published in 1964 and later retitled The Runaways, is set in 1912.

In summary, the four high-spirited and resourceful young Linnet children run away from their autocratic grandmother to stay with their eccentric Uncle Ambrose. They enter a wonderful new world filled with magic and superstition and help to lift some long-standing curses.

The main character of interest is Emma Cobley, who is the local witch. There is nothing original about her and her story, but the book provides yet another example of a typical fictional witch.

Emma Cobley

Emma Cobley owns the village general store, which has a low green door. This where the children first meet her: they go in to buy some sweets. They have trouble getting the door open. The light inside is so dim that it is a while before they notice the proprietor, who is knitting.  

She is a little old dame with beady black eyes that notice everything. She wears a white mob cap, a black dress and a red shawl - familiar colours that are connected to the three phases of the moon.

Her sweets of many colours look magical in their glass bottles.

This is all very symbolic.

Cults, occultists and Stella Gibbons: Part VII

The material inspired by Stella Gibbons’s novel The Shadow of a Sorcerer has stretched to one more article.

Her occultist villain Esmé Scarron is a classic, textbook case. Much of what he says and does is scripted; it is all very predictable. Changing for the better is not part of the script, but it is an interesting exercise to think about things that he could have done and people who could have shown him the way.

What does Esmé Scarron really need?

Scarron needs to think about the inner differences between him and healthy, wholesome, decent human beings. He may be far above most people in some ways - wealth and scholarship for example - but he is far below in others.

Scarron needs to learn how to get what he wants using normal methods, not manipulation, psychological black magic and the ‘neutral force’ that he allows to run through him. He says that this force gives him his power and enables him to heal people, but he uses it to influence them against their will and best interests and to damage them.

He needs to realise that this force is a two-edged sword. Using it may have a damaging effect on him. For example, by influencing people around him so that they can’t make connections, he may be blocking himself from making some key connections.

Esmé Scarron needs to realise that he is on a path that leads to Hell.

In theory, he could redeem himself by losing some arrogance, showing some humility and looking at what other people have done to get off this path. People like him rarely do this though. In any case, he is a prisoner and hostage. The evil forces he has called up may not let go of him that easily.

Some positive role models

Esmé Scarron could have learned a lot from people he probably wouldn’t have given the time of day to. It is amusing to imagine him taking tea with and advice from a few fictional witches - not that he 

ever would.

Cults, occultists and Stella Gibbons: Part II

Going through Stella Gibbons’s novel The Shadow of a Sorcerer in the light of what I have learned about cults, occultists, energy vampires and other relevant topics since I first read it has provided enough material for a whole series of articles.

I am particularly interested in the connections I can now see between some of the material in this book and material in previous articles about cults, very different books and very different people.

The first article introduced the two main characters and ended with a description of some of the harm Esmé Scarron had done by abusing his powers and knowledge.

The next topics to be covered are the dreadful effect that Scarron’s attempts to influence her have on his chosen disciple Meg Lambert and the cult leader/cult member aspect of their relationship.

Many of the unpleasant symptoms that Meg experiences are very familiar: they are typical of the negative effects that energy vampires and black occultists have on their victims.

The unbearably drab existence

Early on in the book, thinking about the delightful and exciting life that Scarron could offer her makes Meg’s life and future in England appear unendurably drab in comparison. It seems that there will be nothing for her back home but ordinary people and pastimes, ageing morons, a dull colourless existence with no beauty and no sense of romantic excitement and nothing to look forward to.

Many people have had a taste of this feeling, especially ambitious people of ability who feel trapped in a limiting environment and are desperate to escape from a godforsaken place full of deadbeat losers, but in Meg’s case there is something sinister at work.

Robin Jarvis’s witchmaster Nathaniel Crozier: Part III

The return of Nathaniel Crozier

A Warlock in Whitby ended with the defeat and destruction of Nathaniel Crozier. He left two devastated people behind him: Jennet is shattered emotionally and Miss Boston physically.

The Whitby Child, the final book in the Whitby Witches trilogy, describes Crozier’s efforts to return from the dead. He has done a deal with an evil supernatural entity: he will be restored to life in return for Ben’s death.

Crozier uses his coven of witches to perform rituals and run his errands, which include more attempts to murder Ben. Jennet is drawn into the coven; Nathaniel has left her in such a bad state that she has no defences against their plots.

It all – eventually - ends well for most of the characters, but only after a lot of action, horrific incidents, suffering and supernatural intervention, both malign and benign.

Roselyn Crozier returns temporarily to get her revenge; Nathaniel Crozier is permanently destroyed. The members of his coven are released from his control to make whatever new lives they can for themselves. Miss Boston, who early in the story recovers from her stroke, cheats death a few more times but her life finally comes to an end. She is 93 years old, and she is no longer needed to defend the children.

The future for Jennet and Ben is very good: their parents are restored to life.

The only thing that Nathaniel Crozier ever did to make the world a better place was to (inadvertently) redeem the Gregsons. There is a happy ending for this couple, who continued to be good neighbours to Miss Boston while she was still alive. They repair the relationship with their estranged son. They go to visit him and see their grandchildren for the first time.

Perhaps a horrible experience is necessary before some people can see the light, appreciate and make the best of what they have and change for the better.

Robin Jarvis’s witchmaster Nathaniel Crozier: Part II

The end of Nathaniel Crozier’s visit to Whitby

We left Nathaniel Crozier just after he had tortured and killed poor old Mr Roper.

His next evil deed is to send the horrible fish demon he has secured to his service to kill Ben so that he can then destroy the magical artefact that Mr Roper passed on to the little boy.

Luckily, the monster follows the wrong trail; it kills another boy instead. ‘By chance’, this is someone who has bullied Ben in the past.

Miss Boston returns from a harrowing visit to London, and finds that all hell has broken loose because Nathaniel Crozier has destroyed two of Whitby’s guardians. Once again, she decides that she must confront an evil newcomer who is about to destroy Whitby. This at the age of 92: if she isn’t a good role model for older ladies, I don’t know who is.

Miss Boston knows that she has taken on what looks like an impossible task, but she sees it as a good sign, a sign of weakness, that the appalling man wanted her out of the way and used his agents to try to destroy her in London.

She has an advantage in that Nathaniel Crozier underestimates her. He never has a good word to say about anyone - he called his wife Roselyn stupid and greedy and Miss Boston an odious hag - and he thinks of Miss Boston as a senile, dabbling amateur.

Crozier would get on well with Lord Voldemort, who also underestimates the opposition and believes that “there is no good and evil, there is nothing but power and those too weak to seek it”. Crozier boasts of being a master of control and domination; he scorns limits and warnings – they are for the weak.

Unseen Influences at Christmas

I don’t enjoy this time of year very much. Seasonal depression prevents much enjoyment and turns necessary tasks into impositions; painful memories and feelings surface and thoughts of what might have been become overwhelming.

People are stressed and I pick up a lot of the tension and unhappiness that are in the air.

Even though I am not a Christian, I hate the way that consumerism and secularism have taken over what should be a religious festival. 

Despite not being religious, I did go to a Christmas service once. It was at the suggestion of a neighbour. One fateful Christmas Eve many years ago, I went for the first time ever to a Midnight Mass. It was held in Westminster Cathedral, and I went just for the carols and the spectacle.

The outing was pure delight from beginning to end. I felt very well, euphoric even; I had the feeling that something wonderful was on the horizon; the weather was very mild; we saw some happy looking policemen driving around in a car that was covered in Christmas decorations.

I enjoyed the lights, the surroundings and the music inside the Cathedral very much. Just as midnight was striking, I wished very hard for a good cause to support and a new and exciting interest in my life for the coming New Year. 

The expression “Be very careful what you wish for as you may well end up getting it” is becoming a platitude but is very relevant here. A ‘chance’ meeting with a stranger on New Year’s Eve brought me exactly what I had wished for. For good or evil? I still don’t know. It led to some of the best and some of the worst moments of my life, including a Christmas that I still can’t bear to think about. 

Robin Jarvis’s witchmaster Nathaniel Crozier: Part I

Nathaniel Crozier is a key character in A Warlock in Whitby, the second volume of Robin Jarvis’s wonderful Whitby Witches trilogy. 

He is the husband of the witch who called herself Rowena Cooper, but was really Roselyn Crozier (called Roslyn Crosier in The Whitby Witches). He is not a witch exactly, but he is a black magician and he does control a group of witches. 

He is a person of interest because some of the things he and his followers say and do are very familiar.

An introduction to Nathaniel Crozier
Nathaniel Crozier casts a dark shadow ahead of him: he is briefly mentioned in The Whitby Witches, where he is introduced as Roselyn’s God-awful husband. They performed foul ceremonies together in Africa. They are described as a hellish pair who deserve to hang. I couldn’t have put it better myself.

The prose gets purple in A Warlock in Whitby:

“Nathaniel Crozier: historian, philanderer, warlock, high priest of the Black Sceptre and the unseen hand behind countless unsolved burglaries of religious relics from around the world…the most evil man on earth.”

There is nothing on this earth that he cannot make yield and bow before him.

How strange that such a man should wear worn and shabby clothes and be unable to enter a dwelling without an invitation! 

He seems to have very little to show for all his studies, efforts, powers and stolen magical artefacts. 

Nicholas Stuart Gray’s witch: Mother Gothel

The witch Mother Gothel appears in Nicholas Stuart Gray’s story The Stone Cage, which is a re-telling of the Rapunzel fairy tale. Rapunzel is a maiden with very long hair who is kept prisoner by a witch at the top of a tall stone tower.

The book is currently unobtainable: all I could find was the dramatised version of The Stone Cage, which is better than nothing. This play has also been performed under the name The Wrong Side of the Moon.

Mother Gothel as depicted in The Stone Cage is based on a real person - Nicholas Stuart Gray’s mother. 

Mother Gothel is introduced
“She is a witch, in the worst meaning of the word. A creature of malice, egotism and cruelty. She is so interested in herself, that she has little time to spare for anyone else’s feelings or well-being. She considers the world against her, and beneath her. She is absolutely alone, and does not even realise that she minds the fact…Once, long ago, she was beautiful. Now, she would be avoided by anyone with sense…”

More about Mother Gothel – in her own words
“Obey me, crawl to me, cringe, and love me!”

“I do not forgive anything – ever.”

“I have little or no sense of humour. It’s quite fatal to true wickedness.”

This reminds me of something Richard Hannay says in John Buchan’s The Three Hostages: “I saw it as farce… and at the coming of humour the spell died”.  

“It’s best to catch ‘em young…Before their minds open. When they know nothing, except what you choose to tell them. See nothing but what you care to show. When right and wrong are words to juggle with, and black and white is interchangeable...”

This too is familiar: Dominick Medina, the villain of The Three Hostages, wipes the memories of his young captives and fills their minds with his own creations. The mention of black and white reminds me of another of Hannay’s comments: “I felt that I was looking on at an attempt, which the devil is believed to specialise in, to make evil good and good evil...” 

Nicholas Stuart Gray’s witch: Barbara

Barbara is the main character in The Stranger, a short story in Nicolas Stuart Gray’s book The Edge of Evening. She does not at all resemble the witch Huddle, who also appears in this book. She is described as being neither young nor old, neither ugly nor pretty. She has brown hair and violet eyes, and is slim and rather tall. 

Barbara has little in common with other witches I have written about. For example, she is not seeking some black magic book, magical artefact or other item as are Lucy M. Boston's Dr. Melanie Powers, Robin Jarvis's 'nasty piece of work' Rowena Cooper and Linwood Sleigh's‘horrid old lady’ Miss Heckatty; she is not power crazy nor planning to rule the world like Diana Wynne Jones's  Gwendolen Chant; she is not cruel and evil like Sheri S. Tepper's Madame Delubovoska, nor is she surly and unpleasant like Joan Aiken's Mrs Lubbage.

Her problem is that she is miserable; she is a stranger in a strange land; she hates her life in a world where kindness is dreadfully lacking and wants to get away from it. She is tired of people telling her to pull herself together. 

She has learned magic and sorcery just to obtain the power to find a world of her own, a place that is right for her, somewhere with people who speak her language, somewhere she can meet her own kind and be happy at last. She is so desperate for help that she performs a summoning ritual and conjures up a demon – whose name is Balbarith – and orders him to obey her. She commands him to show her other worlds and how to enter them.

Compelled to obedience by the power of Barbara’s spells, Balbarith shows her a few worlds, none of which is suitable. He then finds a fairly reasonable sort of place, simple and happy looking. It is full of flowers, fields and sweet, friendly animals and birds. Barbara likes it very much.

Sheri S. Tepper’s witch: Madame Delubovoska

Positive paranoia: this is when we believe that people are conspiring to help us and events are being arranged in our favour. This happened to me in the case of The Marianne Trilogy by Sheri S. Tepper, which I wanted to re-read but could not find anywhere. I visited many second-hand bookshops before giving up the hunt. 

I had done everything I could without success, so the universe took a hand. One morning, I experienced a strong inner prompting to visit a small Kentish town with historic associations. I wandered around the back streets, and found a charity shop with a big pile of Sheri S. Tepper’s books in the window.  An omnibus volume of The Marianne Trilogy was among them! I bought the lot for a very reasonable price. Not only did I have some good reading material, I also gained some more inspiration for articles.

Marianne, the Magus, and the Manticore introduces a very unpleasant character called Madame Delubovoska, who also appears in Marianne, the Madame, and the Momentary Gods, the second book in the trilogy. Before she even comes on the scene we learn that she is a sociopath, a psychopath, someone who uses people and doesn’t care about anyone. 

Diana Wynne Jones’s witch: Gwendolen Chant

I am very interested in fictional witches whose attitudes, characteristics and behaviour remind me of people I have encountered in real life, including energy vampires, horrible stepmothers, unpleasant teachers and negative colleagues.

Not only that, but I also have an unpleasant and unwelcome suspicion that some of these witches show and embody something of what I might have become by default if I had taken the path of least resistance and not faced reality, escaped the clutches of energy vampires, fought my fate, defeated my destiny and overcome many unseen influences.

Gwendolen Chant, who appears in Diana Wynne Jones’s Charmed Life, is yet another witch of interest. There are some scenes in this book that make me feel very uncomfortable, not only because of how I was treated but because of how I felt and behaved – or wanted to behave – when I was much younger than I am now.

Gwendolen’s life before Chrestomanci 
Gwendolen Chant is around 12 years old; she is a very pretty and charming young girl, a golden-haired, blue-eyed princess; she has much innate magical ability; she is convinced that she has great talents and will achieve future fame; she displays queenly behaviour, feels destined for great things and expects to rule the world.