But this post is actually about a different song on the Gotye album.  The song is called “In Your Light” and it just makes me happy to listen to it.  The hand-clapping percussion and lyrics that make you wonder if it is about a lover or the Sun are simply joyful.

Especially in this season between the Solstice and the Equinox, it is nice to be reminded that the sun is returning:

When you’re smiling on me, that is all I need,
To put behind me all my worry and life’s complexities.
Maybe only a moment, but the world just falls away
And I forget myself and everything else that depressed me yesterday

When I sing along to this song in car, it feels very Pagan. I don’t know the religious leanings of Wally De Backer (aka Gotye), but it is just a happy song about the sun or God or someone you love very much and it is just so much fun to listen to.

When I’m in your light, all of this is clear
If only I could always be just as I am right here (in your light)
In your light, just when I’m in your light (in your light)
And I won’t get far if you take that light away

The fascinating thing, since the 20th century, is the development of cinematic story-telling: Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and the Harry Potter series all represent bold experiments in the developing field of movie Fable-Making. Arguably still the best example of movie-Faerey-Telling is MGM’s 1939 classic The Wizard of Oz. Somewhere behind the moon, beyond the stars- somewhere over the rainbow, there is a wonderful Land called Oz: which is seemingly governed by a Gracious (and slightly Campy) Goddess-Like Lady, a Good Witch named Glinda who apparently glides serenely over the land in a pink bubble, landing and alighting whenever and wherever there is trouble or need.

As in Cinderella, she seems to be revealing herself as a Faerie-Godmother to her chosen Child Dorothy: whom she sends upon a Joseph Campbell-like Journey of Discovery down a Yellow Brick Road. The journey is dangerous, through a dark woods that gets darker before it gets brighter, and a Wicked Witch is harassing her steps. Finally she must face the Evil Hag in the Witch’s Castle of Doom- she must face her own mortality (“See this? That’s how long you have to live! And it isn’t very long!”) But she learns that she has the Power within herself, and through her decisive throwing of water upon the Wicked Crone, she learns that she can free herself from fear, and act in a way that is a benefit to others. These lessons learned, the Good Witch Glinda (who has apparently been guarding Dorothy’s journey all along) reappears in her signature pink bubble, to wave her Magickal Staff graciously, ending the anxiety and trauma that has gone before. Her Goddess-like status is signaled by the respectful obeisances of the people of Oz, and her Goodness is shown by the affectionate love the Munchkins show her.

Actress Billie Burke was an inspired choice for Glinda. Possessing a light, silvery speaking voice and an ethereal, slightly distracted manner, she seemed formed out of the air itself; the complete serenity of her presence suggests the Blissful Lady of Grace and Total Love, Kwan Yin. Her archetypal (and campy) appeal is such that- at every West Village Halloween Parade of which I know- some Drag Queen is drifting around costumed as her, serenely spreading happiness and joy. Surely one of the Goodest of Good Witches is Glinda the Good.

You can see the full comic here.

Now at this point, the Pagan American has a choice: to remain private; silent and quiet; on-the-downlow; secret (as in “occult”)- or to reveal themselves publicly, willing to bear and brave derision; confusion; rejection; even hostile confrontation. In short, one has the choice to “Come Out”: as in the Come Out Pagan Movement.

One person that I have been wanting to do a piece about here (this is not the official piece), is Vito Russo, a Gay Activist of the 1980s (who died at the start of the ’90s: we all know what that means), famous for writing The Celluloid Closet. Mr. Russo did what no one had thought to do previously, which was to consider as a whole the number of ways in which Gay characters were presented (both overtly and in code) on screen. In short, Vito Russo created the study of Queer Cinema (I remember being a young Gay Guy in the ’80s, and being blown away by Celluloid Closet).

One disturbing thing that Russo observed was the frequency with which Homosexuality was associated with violence; crime; seedy, untrustworthy sorts; and with depravity and pathology in general. This tendency is exemplified by the number of instances whereby a Psycho-Killer is not only a Psycho-Killer, but the very worst type of Psycho-Killer: a GAY Psycho-Killer!! (Silence of the Lambs fits this category, although the most notorious example is Al Pacino’s Cruising. Seriously, I saw Cruising as a young Gay Guy in the mid-80s, and it kind of messed with my head to think of trying to live in a New York City like that.)

Looking back, with the hindsight of it all, it appears as if the Dominant Culture had to come to terms with the game-changing challenges that Out LGBT Folks represented, by first projecting onto them (us) the most perverse imaginings of their anxieties (I guess that might be an instinctive human impulse, although one that it were best that humans try to evolve themselves out of).

Now consider the following two movies about Pagans: The Wicker Tree, reviewed here at the Juggler by Laura, and by myself, and The Wicker Man (the 2006 version with Nicolas Cage). Never mind the original Wicker Man, which was made at a time (early ’70s) when Paganism (as in the modern-day movement) was not really on anyone’s radar so much, and which therefore reflected a totally innocent (and fascinatingly persuasive) presentation of a modern “Pagan” society- with, of course, the Twilight Zone ending, that these Pagans still practice human sacrifice (a totally fair premise for a Fiction Movie, as both Caesar and Tacitus charge the Celts and the Germans, respectively, with human sacrifice. Of course, the Romans were the guys who invented crucifixion, so really, what can they say?) Never mind that-

Here we have two movies in the 21st Century that depict “Pagans,” and which are made specifically in order to present “Pagans” on screen (just like Cruising was made to depict the sociopathic “Gay” lifestyle). And how do we see these Pagans? In the Nicolas Cage Wicker Man, “Pagans” are apparently a severely cult-like group of men-hating Nature-Priestesses (the movie as a whole is a very derogatory distortion of the Neo-Pagan/ Wiccan/ Witchcraft tradition of deferring to women in power positions of spiritual leadership). The men seem to live as cowed slaves; the women all seem to live under severe edict as to what to do, and what not to do (even to the point that, apparently, everybody has to take their Pagan name from a Natural object); the High Priestess (Ellen Burstyn, who why the Gods know, can’t find a better gig than this) rules supreme as a homicidal Matriarch; and of course the Pagans celebrate the Rebirth of the Year by setting Nicolas Cage on fire in the Wicker Man (ok, Nicolas Cage is so infuriating in the role by this point that it is actually a kind of pleasure to get him get torched, there, I’ve said it); but still, that is just not a cool thing to do in these days.

In the just-released The Wicker Tree, we again see Pagans (this time, kind of Scots-Reconstructionist Celts, as opposed to the American Goddess-Worshipping-types in the 2006 Wicker Man). Their High Priest (basically) is almost a parody of Anton LaVey (the famous Satanist guy, for those who may not know); the actress playing his wife looks as if she has a strong career of gigs as Lady Macbeth; and a huge number of their “followers” (as I guess you might think of them) give the appearance of being brainwashed cult-members. Yeah, they bath naked in the river to be cleansed by the Power of Sulis, and they celebrate the Rebirth of the Year on May Day (Beltain) with a May Queen and her “Laddie,” and yeah, they pray to the Rejuvenating Power of the Sun: right before they rip the hot young guy to shreds with their bare hands, cannibalizing his raw flesh and bathing themselves in his blood (like my friend Lucky said, Just like at Starwood). The May Queen gets embalmed alive, to be added to the creepy museum of once-living May Queen Effigies.

This is Paganism as Torture-Porn.

Add to consideration prior movies such as The Craft and TV shows like That Bones Episode, and it seems like Paganism exists in the same cultural space that Gay people did in the ’70s and early ’80s: we exist enough on the scene that film-producers perceive Sensation Value to presenting “PAGANS!!” on screen; while at the same time, the cultural fear and anxiety over the unprecedented social changes that we represent causes the projection of deeply unsettled alarms (if you think “acceptance of Gays-as-Normal” is challenging, considering all the social stigma that had grown up around any sense of “Gay” by at least the 1970s- just try to imagine getting over the idea of “PAGAN as Normal,” considering all the ingrained social-stereotyping equating Paganism with depravity and immorality).

However, as the Gay Movement has demonstrated, the more you Come Out, and the more that you present people with a reasonable and charming (and non-human sacrificing) Pagan image, the more public acceptance will follow. Sometimes you have to break down some barriers first- but the more Enlightenment spreads, the more people are Enlightened.

It’s ridiculous premise is that two Evangelical Christian Young Redeemers are going to preach Jesus: to the Lost Souls of “Heathen Scotland.” Yes, that’s right- Scotland: that Heathen country. (This is the type of movie that shows an establishing shot of Scotland, with a title identifying “Scotland, on the Border of England.” My friend Lucky, who is really fun to see bad movies with, goes- Oh, good, cause otherwise I wouldn’t have known where Scotland is.) This leads to a really funny montage (well, I thought so, cause I started cracking up during it) of “doors slamming in the Christian Fundamentalists faces as they try to distribute Jesus literature to the Scots.”

Out of frustration with their failures to Evangelize these Heathen City-Scots, the earnest young Christian missionaries accept the offer of a sinister looking Anton LaVey character and his purring-villainess wife- to come preach the Gospel to the receptive audience that they will find at this charming little out-of-the-way hamlet.

Well, if you know The Wicker Man at all, you will know what happens next- or what you think will happen next: only they so-totally don’t commit to the obvious ending- which is to just set these two annoyingly self-righteous, condescending Christian Evangelicals on fire in the Wicker Man. (The earnest Young Redeemer girl is so aggravating a personality, you keep wanting to see her get set on fire; I have to admit, my friends and I all agreed that it was a severe disappointment not to see this girl get torched in The Wicker Man. What can I say, we’re a sick, twisted group.)

The young guy, we all agree, is insanely hot and we all want to date him. An interesting thing is that the Brits actors all seem to recognize that they’re in a Really Bad Movie and compensate for the inanity by camped-up performances; the Americans try to play it straight- and drown in the process.

This is the type of movie that plays up Paganism for its Shock-Values (therefore it properly is offensive; at one especially lurid point, Lucky goes, in ironic counterpoint: Just like Starwood). But it’s so stupid that it’s a waste of time being pissed off by it. On the other hand, it’s a hoot to see with Pagan Buds.

The original movie, a B Grade film staring Christopher Lee is incredible for the strange Horror-Musical campiness that it exudes. And I have wondered before why this movie is so attractive to Pagans as it depicts an isolated culture of people who still practice human sacrifice.

But The Wicker Tree takes this theme to a whole new level. I have to admit that I really only wanted to see this movie to be able to write about it. I didn’t anticipate enjoying it.  Some of the effect – some of the mystery – would be completely lost because we now understand the formula. What narrative could this movie tell that we didn’t already know?  Well, my personal opinions of the film can be found behind the cut. If you don’t know the story yet you can check out the synopsis at Wikipedia before you read more.

So. Um. Wow.

And not in a good way.  I suppose I was already predisposed to not liking this film.  As I have mentioned, while I do love The Wicker Man, I love it for all the wrong reasons. I do not think it is a good film, though I know plenty of fans who would disagree with me. I’m afraid that this new movie, three decades later, reaches whole new levels of badness.  Frankly, I don’t believe it is worth it. The writing is juvenile, the dialogue forced and overly simple, and even some continuity errors took me out of the story completely.

First, it still portrays the “heathens” (a term they use throughout the movie to describe themselves) as people who practice human sacrifice. Except now we know that from the start because if we’re watching this movie we have likely already watched the original. As much as I hate to say these words, the second movie really lacks all of the charm of the first. Even the culture of the Pagan people is sorely underrepresented, which I believe was the endearing quality of The Wicker Man. We could see past the gruesome scenes at the end where Sgt. Howie was mercilessly sacrificed because all the Pagan-y bits made us all want to live on Summerisle to celebrate with those people who celebrated the cycles of natures and worshiped the old Gods.  But The Wicker Tree doesn’t live up to that expectation. In fact, we are told early on that the reason this particular insular village honors the old ways is because they are victims of corporate greed – a Nuclear Power Plant that is owned by their own leader and apparently had rendered the people infertile. The CEO and Village Elder seems to convince everyone the old religion is the one true way that will bring them to salvation.

I find this movie equally as offensive to the Scottish as it is to the Texans. The simple “Cowboys for Christ” are too simple.  The blood hungry Scots are too one dimensional. And the Pagans  – well, it was one thing to look away when the first movie sacrificed an innocent Christian when it was hands-off, but are we seriously okay with a cult-ish group of people tearing a man limb from limb and eating his flesh at the behest of a corporate CEO/High Priest who seems to think that Paganism is the way to convince the people that there is nothing wrong here?  Just sick.

In fact, I thought there might be a message at the end when Beth, as the Queen of the May, turns the tables on Sir Lachlan Morrison and sacrifices him in the burning wicker tree. That maybe now the people would be free of this tyranny. But it is all for nothing as the villagers still sacrifice her in the end.

The only thing I did like about this movie was a line from Lachlan Morrison, even though his meaning behind it is more about brainwashing than devotion.

“I believe the old religion of the Celts fits our needs at this time. Isn’t that all you can ask of a religion?”

Fascinating as that is, what really intrigues me is the extent to which early American Magick-Use reflects back upon the Europe of the late 1500s/ early 1600s- still the Age of Magick, with the Burning Times still going on (the 1600s, the first period of settlement in the New World, is also the last century of the Witch-Burnings). Early American Magick-Use provides another prism through which to judge the Magickal beliefs and practices of the Old World; what is most intriguing is the degree to which these beliefs and practices appear to involve Circle-Casting, or the Formation of a Magickal Circle-Space.

For instance, in The Silver Bullet and Other American Witch Stories, we learned of Magickal Folk-Beliefs carried into the Appalachian mountains by Irish, English, Scots, and German settlers- which apparently were preserved long enough to be recorded in the stories found in this book, which were generated in the 1930s. Another book, Signs, Cures, & Witchery, also finds copious amounts of Old World Magick-Belief transported into Appalachia- this time, specifically looking at the activities of German pioneers. What is especially interesting (to my mind) is the number of times that someone in The Silver Bullet describes casting a Magick Circle in order to perform Magick: casting a Magick Circle exactly as we are accustomed to casting Circles, but described in the context of Depression Era mountaintop Folk-Magick.

However, not surprising: if one considers the evidence that Circle-Casting was widely associated with Magick-Work in England during the Elizabethan Age of the late 1500s and the Jacobean Age of the early 1600s.

Circle-Casting- or Circle-Formation, as perhaps the case may be- divides in the Time into two categories: (1) the Grimoire-Tradition, carried in medieval grimoires innumerable issued throughout the Middle Ages; these will be the Traditions that seem to us most like those of the Gardnerians, the Alexandrians, and all those influenced by the writings of Gardner, Valiente, Crowther, the Sanders, the Farrars (et al), and which will be reflected by the learned elite of the medieval period, able to read said written occult-works, the Grimoires (2) as well as the Oral-Folk Culture Traditions carried by Oral-Folk Culture practitioners such as village Wise-Women and Cunning-Men; these are reflected in the “Witch” Plays (as opposed to the “Wizard” Plays, inspired by the educated Grimoire-Tradition), and are based upon the sometimes-raucous, often improvisational Tradition that we associate with “Energy-Raising.”

Perhaps the most famous example of the Elizabethan Grimoire-derived (Ceremonial-Traditional) Circle-Casting known to us is that presented to us by Marlowe in Doctor Faustus (c. 1592), in Act I, scene iii, lines 8-24: Faustus formally charges into being the Circle that he has transcribed on his floor (as per the illustration attached to the printed play, seen above). Being of the Christian Magick variety, this Circle is particularly “anagrammatized” with the Name of Jehovah, as well as laid out by the “figures of every adjunct to the Heavens, and characters of signs and erring stars”- that is, it has been made to resemble in miniature an outline of the Astrological Heavens themselves, in a very Microcosm/ Macrocosm, “As Above, So Below” sort of deal. This Circle is further empowered by calling in the Spirits of the Four Elements.

Caveat: as the Wikipedia entry on the play will tell you, Marlowe’s play was published in two versions, known as the Text A and the Text B versions: the Text A is thought to resemble more closely Marlowe’s original script, with Text B representing an “improved-upon” version of the play reworked after Marlowe’s untimely death. As the Wikipedia entry notes, there are differences between the two versions of the play- but as the Wikipedia entry fails to point out, in Text B (the text most often reproduced, as people tend to play it safe by putting into print the greatest possible number of words potentially committed by Marlowe to paper), the Names of only three of the Four Elements are called (“Earth” is omitted). Text A calls in all Four Elements- which makes the most sense- and demonstrates to us a genuine late 1500s Tradition of Consecrating a Magick-Circle by Calling In all Four of the Mystical Elements of Life. (The reason for “Earth’s” absence is surely as simple as, the type-setter blanked. Maybe it was getting close to lunchtime, and he was hungry and distracted.)

Another caveat: in the interest of being totally responsible in the transmission of Magickal Knowledge- Dr. Faustus’ Legend comes to us as the Supreme Example of the Perils of Trafficking with the Forces of Darkness. The Middle Ages took such things strenuously seriously, and so we have the cautionary Tale of Faustus: who was Fool enough to believe that he could contract with the Forces of [Christian] Hell and live to tell the tale.

In short, Faust represents the ultimate in Christian Theology cautioning one against Magickal Practicing. But you know what? Here’s how I look at it: Faustus actually ASKS the Devil to come into his Circle (the Devil being represented as the reptilian sort-of creature in the picture next to Faust, just outside of his Magickally Protective Circle). Never mind the Pagan Thealogical Question: Do we as Pagans even give credence to the Thought-Form of the Devil? (I, for one, do not, and therefore- it seems to me- avoid the obvious pratfall of Faust by Calling In only such Deities as Whom I judge to be Honorable and Just, and with Whom I feel comfortable that I have established a fair Working-Relationship.)

Another example of Circle-Casting in a play whose Cultural influence is extremely difficult to question, is that presented by Shakespeare in The Tempest (c. 1610). Although explained merely by a stage-direction- following Line 57, Act V, scene i: “They all enter the Circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charmed”- Prospero’s famous speech “Ye Elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves” is meant to be understood as a Circle-Invocation inspired by Ovid’s account of Medea’s Invocation to the Spirits of Nature in Metamorphoses. As represented in Julie Taymor’s 2010 movie-version starring (in a status-changing gender-bending performance) Helen Mirren as the Female Wizard Prospera, the speech is every bit a Circle-Invocation as much as that presented by Shakespeare’s contemporary Marlowe- but oriented from a very Nature-driven perspective. It demonstrates to us that- at least for Shakespeare, in the early 1600s- Circle-Casting could be thought effective if engaged purely from an orientation towards Nature, rather than from a strictly Ceremonial Traditional point-of-view. (It might be, if you watch enough productions of The Tempest, that you don’t see many examples of Prospero or Prospera actually Casting a Circle during this speech; I believe that is because so many people nowadays simply do not know what to make of the stage-direction “the Circle that Prospero had made,” having no cultural context through which to formulate the Magick-Circle. In short, I don’t think many theater-folk today understand a “Magick Circle,” and so, have no idea how to stage this segment of The Tempest.)

And then there is the Circle-Casting found in singular form in the “Witch-Plays” of the late 1500s-early 1600s: whereas the Grimoire-Traditions are preserved in written manuscripts read by the educated and the literate, the Ways of Witchcraft must have been maintained through oral Folk-Culture. Apparently there was, at least in England, a coherent system identified as “Witchcraft : the Witches in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, Jonson’s The Sad Shepherd and The Masque of Queens, and Middleton’s The Witch all do the same thing as “Witchcraft” in all four plays, what we would consider to be the most significant Witch-Plays of the early 1600s. This involves forming a Magickal Circle- but unlike the Ceremonial Magicians, who enact recorded ritual in a dignified manner, the Witches generate their mystical Spaces through intention, rhythm, movement, music, and excitement: very much what we would term “Raising Energy.” So much folklore surrounds the idea that Witches (like Faeries) danced in Circles, that we should not be surprised to find Circle-Dancing associated with all these Jacobean Witches: the Witches in Macbeth (c. 1605), for instance, dance “hand in hand” in order to “wind up their Charm” in Act One, scene iii; similarly, in Act Four, scene i, they dance around their Cauldron (which will cause one to dance in a Circle) in order to “set the stage” for the Thane of Glamis and for the Spirits that they will raise for him, ending the scene by performing a last “antic Round,” or excited Circle-Dance.

The male Ceremonial Traditions of the late Middle Ages are driven by the performance of prescribed ritual; the female Witchcraft Traditions of Jacobean England are set in motion through “Energy-Raising” spectacles (as we would think of them); yet both Traditions depend upon an understanding of an enchanted, specialized (Circular) Magickal Space.

Far from being held super-secret, however, Magickal Traditions appear to have been openly embraced in England during the time of Elizabeth: there was a flourishing business of printing and selling pamphlet-edition Spell-Books and “How to” Magickal manuals, with George Lyman Kittredge providing many examples of “grass-roots” Magickal experimentation in Witchcraft in Old and New England. The fact that plays which deal with Magickal matters are clearly popular is an indication of the Elizabethan/ Jacobean interest in Magick, and the fact that Magickal Ceremonies are performed in Magickal Plays presented as popular theater plainly indicates all by itself a means of transmission of this knowledge.

Assuming that Circle-Casting is indeed well-established as late 1500s/ early 1600s English Magickal custom, we would imagine English settlers in the New World to transport faith in Magickal Circle-Casting with them into America: exactly as we seem to find in early 20th century Appalachia.

All of this might be understood as cultural encouragement to consider Circle-Casting as primary in the performance of the Magickal Arts.