Why, I’ve been told that chapter 3 of Love, or the Witches of Windward Circle is a bit gross. Never had I been more insulted, not since Monday! Historically accurate, that’s more like it, you ignorant twat!
First of all, it is well known that witches “collect male organs in great numbers, as many as twenty or thirty members together, and put them in a bird’s nest, or shut them up in a box, where they move themselves like living members, and eat oats and corn” (Institoris & Sprenger, 1971; p. 249).
And how else can a man lose his pride —for a “man’s tool is a man’s pride”— but by chasing witches with “his trousers to his knees … promising to please them all with his teenage vitality” on the night of Halloween, when “the abundance of fumes and liquor has driven women to the edge of sanity,” and “witches engage in the sport of fornication with all sorts of aerials, as well as with other witches, male and female, and even with animals or elongated objects, like pokes or door knobs”? (Allende, 2015; p 23)
The fig tree incident happened. It is well documented in The Malleus:“a certain man tells that, when he had lost his member, he approached a known witch to ask her to restore it to him. She told the afflicted man to climb a certain tree, and that he might take which he liked out of the nest in which there were several members. And when he tried to take a big one, the witch said: You must not take that one; adding, because it belongs to a parish priest” (Institoris & Sprenger, 1971; p. 249)
Creepy, campy, and yet incredibly lyrical, Love, or the Witches of Windward Circle is a wildly imaginative tale that spans five decades, connecting the otherworldly occult to the out-of-this-world bohemia of fifties Venice Beach.
Allende, C. (2015). In which we are told how the third daughter was conceived. In Love, or the witches of windward circle: A horror farce. Los Angeles, CA: Rare Bird Books.
Institoris, H., & Sprenger, J. (1971). The Malleus maleficarum of Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger. New York: Dover.