75 books like Making Witches

During a plague that killed a quarter of Florence’s citizens, Boccaccio crafted an exuberant, entertaining, death-defying work of literature. In this book, seven young women and three young men taking refuge in a country villa swap 100 tales of love, lust, mischief, and treachery. 

I read a translation of The Decameron during a sabbatical in Italy and was swept back in time. In every village, I’d look around a piazza and see characters straight from its pages: wily merchants, corrupt politicians, clever wives, henpecked husbands, bumbling fools. This book still resonates in the 21st century—a tribute to Boccaccio’s skill as a spell-weaver. Some of his stories are shamelessly, laughably bawdy. But all remind us that, even as everything changes, our shared humanity remains the same.

The Jewish stories I know best were first told in Yiddish, but there is so much more to Jewish storytelling.

This little book is a treasury of stories told by Moroccan Jewish immigrants to Canada, who spoke Judeo-Arabic, Judeo-Spanish, and French. The author introduces each storyteller and includes photos of them. Most of their stories happen in Morocco, but some in Montreal, including a bitterly humorous first impression, and an amazing miracle.

Many of these stories have a fairy-tale feeling – including the personal experiences. The Jnun (Jinns), also known as “our friends from the underworld” are very real to these storytellers, though they no longer bother people in Canada because there is so much metal around, keeping them away. 

Stories come alive when people tell them to each other.

In my mid-20s, I happened upon a weekly gathering in Toronto, “1001 Friday Nights of Storytelling.” In a former synagogue turned art school – with candlelight shining on works in progress – people told old tales, by heart and with heart. This was the beginning of many things in my life, and this is the community that folklorist Kay Stone has written about.

She shows that the Toronto storytelling circle is part of a worldwide movement. She talks with great storytellers and explores favourite stories with them. And she shares her own struggle with a witch story from Grimms’ Fairy Tales, and how, as she told it again and again, she changed the story and the story changed her.

This is a book about stories of the land I live on.

My home is in Winnipeg, on the edge of the flatland called “the Prairies” in Canada and “the Great Plains” in the United States. But the land doesn’t care about the Canada-US border. And that border is nothing but an imposition on the older nations whose territory I live in: the Red River Métis, and the Anishinaabeg.

These Indigenous Peoples have ancient living traditions of oral storytelling, and this book, by Anishinaabeg scholars, celebrates their stories’ spiritual, practical, and political power.

A teaching shared by storyteller Kathleen Delores Westcott tells us “the story is a living being. It’s alive.” That teaching has helped me to understand how stories attract us, get inside us, change, and move across boundaries. 

One of my favorite things in the world is inspiration, and this book has loads of it. It contains an insightful retrospective of witchcraft, including how it showed up in popular culture. What I love most about this book is that it sets the stage for new witches and invites them to the party. 

Different stylistically than the other books on the list, The Witch of Eye is a collection of lyric essays about those accused of witchcraft. In its pages, we meet Lisbet Nypan of Norway, who cured patients using a “ritual of salt” only to be put on trial in the late 1600s, and the German midwife Walpurga Hausmannin, who allegedly coupled with the devil in the clothes of the neighborhood corn farmer. The sentences are dense and hypnotic, transporting readers into fields and courtrooms. One essay begins by describing the language of magic: “You begin a spell with an invocation like Hear me or I beseech you or Oh friend or Listen.” Let yourself be drawn in.

Anne Bishop weaves European myth and historical witch-hunting into a fantastical tale of Fae, Witches, and those without magic. All three books in this series are unputdownable. So real is the imagery and the variety of characters, each with their own blend of magic and relationship to the natural world, that no matter how dark the tale gets, I can’t stop reading. 

Tir Alainn blends the natural, spiritual and physical world of myth into a grassroots world with characters that live and die for what they believe. With a strong moral core to the story, the richness of myth brings the inhabitants of Tir Alainn to life. An enchanting dark fantasy trilogy that is a must-read.  

Isn’t it wonderful when you pick up the right book at the right time? That’s exactly how I felt about this book.

I inhaled this novel, reading it in just a few sittings over two days. I loved how the three female protagonists were linked through time by their connection to Weyward Cottage and their exceptional connection to nature.

This novel moves effortlessly between points of view in 1619, 1942, and 2019. Hart ties the three women’s stories together beautifully at the end, making this read as satisfying as a perfect cup of tea on a cold winter’s day.

As well as the village witch, we have what might be called the ‘folkloric witch’, and other folkloric traditions.

When interrogators asked witchcraft suspects about the Devil, the answers sometimes surprised them. They uncovered beliefs about nature spirits, practices of magical healing and divination, and visionary experience of otherworlds.

Some of this material fed into ideas about the witches’ sabbat, but these beliefs, practices, and visions were not necessarily about ‘witchcraft’ at all. Ronald Hutton’s ambitious book surveys these beliefs, practices, and visions.

He ranges far back into the ancient history of Europe – and adjacent regions, exploring traditions of ceremonial magic from ancient Egypt. If the idea of the witch is frightening, it is partly because of the folklore brought together in this book.

I love stories that are based on legends, myths, and folklore. This one is the latter.

Took is the first book that opened my mind to folklore of witches and witchcraft. If finding a cabin in the woods with bones and artifacts inside didn’t bring chills down my spine, then the mysterious storyline that followed definitely did. The suspense of the book kept my mind captive till the very end!