Hello Crypt Dwellers,
I hope this post finds you suitably comfortable? A soft shaft of warm light guiding your eyes across the screen while the wind howls at the windows. I say this because the wind and rain have become my constant companions lately.
I’ve said before that this kind of weather is perfect for curling up with a book… though, in full transparency, I actually read this one on my recent holiday to Tunisia. So while the blazing sun and poolside setting weren’t exactly gothic Highlands realness, the review-writing stage ticks every atmospheric box.
Perhaps somewhat inspired by the short indie game Daemonologie, I recently delved into The Last Witch of Scotland by Philip Paris. I’ve always found the history of witchcraft and particularly the witch trials, equal parts fascinating and utterly horrifying.
As you may know (or may have guessed), I’ve felt drawn to Paganism since I was young and have followed that path for many years now. Animals have always seemed drawn to me, and I’ve experienced moments that have felt… prophetic. I read tarot for clarity, honour the Wheel of the Year, and cleanse my many crystals beneath the full moon. It’s less aesthetic, more instinct.
This spirituality runs through the women on my mother’s side. The McGuire bloodline, for example, produces women with wild hair, razor-sharp intuition, and a resilience forged through loss and trauma, stronger than most men could ever manage. So I suppose you could say I have a slightly invested interest in the subject matter.
Set in the Scottish Highlands in 1727, the novel follows Aila and her mother, Janet Horne. After Aila’s father dies in a fire, the two move to the parish of Loth. When their parish minister leaves to tend to a sick relative and is replaced by a temporary minister with an unhealthy obsession with the devil and witchcraft, suspicion begins to circle the women.
Already viewed as “other” Janet because of her deteriorating mental health, and Aila because of the physical differences she bears from the fire, it doesn’t take long before whispers become accusations. And we all know how quickly those escalate.
This is, of course, a highly fictionalised account, complete with a love interest for Aila. If I’m honest, that element didn’t grip me. What did grip me were the stark reminders of historical horror: the fact that a woman earning her own living could be deemed suspicious, that difference alone was enough to condemn you. You can likely guess how it ends.
Is it worth a read? I’d say yes. It highlights the absurdity of the so-called justice system and how the tiniest seeds of doubt were enough to spark a literal witch hunt. It also touches on the tragic misunderstanding of dementia and the barbaric “treatments” that coerced innocent women into false confessions simply so they could escape their suffering.
That said, the author takes considerable liberties. The prose leans heavily into modern phrasing, clearly to make it more accessible for contemporary readers, but at times it dulls the brutal reality. For instance, there’s simply no world in which Aila would have been allowed to speak so freely in court, not without the scold’s bridle making an appearance. Or an even harsher punishment.
Still, I’ll always read a book that attempts to shine light on such a dark stain in history. For me, this earns 2.5 out of 5 skulls.
Have you read it? What did you think? And if you’ve got recommendations that tackle this subject with a bit more grit and historical honesty, I’m all ears. Let me know in the comments below.
Stay spooky!
👻SG👻
☽ SpookyGee ☾ 