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Hellebore Zine
Hellebore: Yuletide Hauntings 2024
Our second Yuletide Hauntings special summons ancestral terrors into our living rooms, while electric lights flicker and fail and the dancing flames in the hearth conjure scenes from the rugged Cornish coast and the windswept Isle of Man, the burial mounds of Sutton Hoo and the dramatic ruins of Glastonbury Abbey. Follow us through mysterious standing stones and candlelit burial mounds, into secret corridors, derelict towers and imposing manor houses, as we encounter a shadowy parade of enigmatic monks, Anglo-Saxon warriors, bloodthirsty smugglers, spectral dogs with glowing red eyes, and uncanny children, in this tribute to the supernatural richness of Britain.
Words by John Callow, Nick Freeman, Verity Holloway, Keri O'Shea, Reggie Oliver, Maria J. Pérez Cuervo, Katy Soar. Art by Faallaway and Nathaniel Hébert.
Edited by Maria J. Pérez Cuervo.
Words by John Callow, Nick Freeman, Verity Holloway, Keri O'Shea, Reggie Oliver, Maria J. Pérez Cuervo, Katy Soar. Art by Faallaway and Nathaniel Hébert.
Edited by Maria J. Pérez Cuervo.
96 pages, Paperback
First published December 21, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
March 31, 2026
Hellebore: Yuletide Hauntings 2024
(aka: “I opened this expecting festive folklore and instead got dragged through Britain’s haunted countryside by a pack of spectral dogs with glowing red eyes.”)
This issue of Hellebore is basically what happens when someone hands you a mug of mulled wine, dims the lights, and whispers, “Wanna hear about the Isle of Man’s creepiest burial mound?” And of course you say yes, because you’re not a coward.
The whole zine feels like wandering through a winter night where the electricity keeps flickering and every shadow looks like it has opinions. We’re talking:
monks who definitely died badly
smugglers who are still mad about it
children who are absolutely not children
dogs with demon‑eye headlights
and enough ancient British folklore to make you wonder if Christmas was ever meant to be cheerful
It’s atmospheric in that “I can smell the damp stone and hear something breathing behind me” way. The writing is rich, moody, and occasionally so academic‑spooky that I had to pause and go, “Okay, but why does this burial mound feel personally offended by my existence.”
The art? Gorgeous.
The vibes? Immaculate.
The content? A little uneven — some pieces hit like a ghostly slap, others drift by like mist — but that’s the nature of anthologies.
My only real gripe (and why this lands at a 3.5 for me) is that a few entries felt more like museum plaques than hauntings. Beautifully researched, yes, but I wanted a bit more narrative oomph, a little more “Yuletide terror is tapping on your window.”
Still, when it hits, it hits.
And honestly? If you want to spend December wandering through ancient ruins, cursed coastlines, and folklore that predates your great‑great‑great‑grandmother’s knitting needles, this is the perfect little winter treat.
A chilly, eerie, folklore‑soaked collection that whispers, “Merry Christmas, now here’s a ghost.”
(aka: “I opened this expecting festive folklore and instead got dragged through Britain’s haunted countryside by a pack of spectral dogs with glowing red eyes.”)
This issue of Hellebore is basically what happens when someone hands you a mug of mulled wine, dims the lights, and whispers, “Wanna hear about the Isle of Man’s creepiest burial mound?” And of course you say yes, because you’re not a coward.
The whole zine feels like wandering through a winter night where the electricity keeps flickering and every shadow looks like it has opinions. We’re talking:
monks who definitely died badly
smugglers who are still mad about it
children who are absolutely not children
dogs with demon‑eye headlights
and enough ancient British folklore to make you wonder if Christmas was ever meant to be cheerful
It’s atmospheric in that “I can smell the damp stone and hear something breathing behind me” way. The writing is rich, moody, and occasionally so academic‑spooky that I had to pause and go, “Okay, but why does this burial mound feel personally offended by my existence.”
The art? Gorgeous.
The vibes? Immaculate.
The content? A little uneven — some pieces hit like a ghostly slap, others drift by like mist — but that’s the nature of anthologies.
My only real gripe (and why this lands at a 3.5 for me) is that a few entries felt more like museum plaques than hauntings. Beautifully researched, yes, but I wanted a bit more narrative oomph, a little more “Yuletide terror is tapping on your window.”
Still, when it hits, it hits.
And honestly? If you want to spend December wandering through ancient ruins, cursed coastlines, and folklore that predates your great‑great‑great‑grandmother’s knitting needles, this is the perfect little winter treat.
A chilly, eerie, folklore‑soaked collection that whispers, “Merry Christmas, now here’s a ghost.”
March 14, 2026
Hellebore is always excellent, and if anyone has ever read any of my previous reviews of the zines they will know what I like. The editorial position, of articles being thoughtful, intelligent yet accessible is it's core strength. One doesn't need to be an academic to enjoy the zine and it is certainly aimed at a broad audience (as long as you like folk horror and the occult I guess) but it never talks down at it's audience and leaves plenty of room for further study and of course everything is fully referenced with sources.
By now, there seems to be quite a regular crew of writers and I think my eyes always open a bit wider when I see there is a piece from a name I recognise and enjoy.
This is the second 'Yuletide Hauntings' themed issue (and it shows how far behind I am in my to-be-read pile that I bought this over a year ago and hadn't got round to it despite loving Hellebore!). I really enjoyed everything in the zine.
Nick Freeman explores the darkness in Yuletide through the lens of the ghost story with particular attention to the idea that much of our Christmas conventions were formed in the Victorian era and the ghost story in particular was strengthened and became traditional. Even at a time of joy and family time together indoors, there is space for a spooky story around the fire. Whether that is Dicken's 'A Christmas Carol' or the 1970's and now rebooted, 'A Ghost Story for Christmas' it feels like ghosts are as much a part of our tradition as the Christmas Tree.
There is a piece by Verity Holloway about the legend of Cruel Coppinger, the Cornish smuggler. Verity Holloway's pieces are usually my favourite in Hellebore and one day I will buy all of her books because I really enjoy her essays which take legends and try and find the historical links to make sense of them. It's strange because I was reading about Cruel Coppinger only a week or two ago. The legend suggests he was a Danish sailor who was shipwrecked on the coast, fell in love with a local woman and settled, turning to ruthless smuggling and piracy. I don't think Holloway references hauntings quite so much, and the source I was reading (from the 1970's) suggested that there were paths in the area he operated named after him and rather romanticised sights of ghostly smugglers! There is an attempt to trace the origins of this man which is quite fascinating where the stories come from.
There is a quick piece about 'haunting children in cinema / TV' with a few I've seen and some I have not. I think many people find children quite sinister and haunting anyway but I seem to remember there is something incredibly unsettling when you're a child yourself seeing a ghostly child or equivalent. Like there is a connection to the shared idea of childhood and being lost or apart.
Katy Soar explores the spiritualist element of excavations of Viking burial ships in the 20th century. One of the things I like about pieces like this is the depiction and characterisation of local enthusiasts. In a world that feels increasingly centralised, controlled, driven by permissions and formal experts I love the idea that a wealthy lady can commission the equivalent of a self taught archaeologist to dig up her garden and find one of the most significant archaeological finds in the UK.
Kerri O'Shea has an excellent piece examining aspects of Susan Hill's 'The Woman in Black' with particular attention to the 1989 TV version and it's contrast to the book. I haven't seen that (or the stage play) but have seen the 2012 film and read the novel. I think it is an excellent exploration of the idea of grief, linking back to Victorian standards of women mourning. It touches on anger and morality and how the woman in black is viewed in respect of her rage, and how society viewed, and still views the fallen woman.
John Callow investigates the legend of the Black Dog on Peel Castle in the Isle of Man and I am interested in how black dog legends surface everywhere in the UK - some more famous than others. I think I am also interested in Manx folklore and need to learn more about it's history. It's largely known for motorcycle races and being a tax haven but it's somewhere I have never visited despite living close. It's almost as though it is separate from the UK and yet is a bridge between Britain and Ireland. I'd love to learn more about it's language, history and folklore.
Reggie Oliver wraps up the zine with an exploration of the ghost story throughout written history and where it may go. It's a rather bold exploration but it shows that ghosts have always been with us.
The art direction is fantastic, the look and feel and the fonts are excellent. I always enjoy Hellebore and long may it continue!
By now, there seems to be quite a regular crew of writers and I think my eyes always open a bit wider when I see there is a piece from a name I recognise and enjoy.
This is the second 'Yuletide Hauntings' themed issue (and it shows how far behind I am in my to-be-read pile that I bought this over a year ago and hadn't got round to it despite loving Hellebore!). I really enjoyed everything in the zine.
Nick Freeman explores the darkness in Yuletide through the lens of the ghost story with particular attention to the idea that much of our Christmas conventions were formed in the Victorian era and the ghost story in particular was strengthened and became traditional. Even at a time of joy and family time together indoors, there is space for a spooky story around the fire. Whether that is Dicken's 'A Christmas Carol' or the 1970's and now rebooted, 'A Ghost Story for Christmas' it feels like ghosts are as much a part of our tradition as the Christmas Tree.
There is a piece by Verity Holloway about the legend of Cruel Coppinger, the Cornish smuggler. Verity Holloway's pieces are usually my favourite in Hellebore and one day I will buy all of her books because I really enjoy her essays which take legends and try and find the historical links to make sense of them. It's strange because I was reading about Cruel Coppinger only a week or two ago. The legend suggests he was a Danish sailor who was shipwrecked on the coast, fell in love with a local woman and settled, turning to ruthless smuggling and piracy. I don't think Holloway references hauntings quite so much, and the source I was reading (from the 1970's) suggested that there were paths in the area he operated named after him and rather romanticised sights of ghostly smugglers! There is an attempt to trace the origins of this man which is quite fascinating where the stories come from.
There is a quick piece about 'haunting children in cinema / TV' with a few I've seen and some I have not. I think many people find children quite sinister and haunting anyway but I seem to remember there is something incredibly unsettling when you're a child yourself seeing a ghostly child or equivalent. Like there is a connection to the shared idea of childhood and being lost or apart.
Katy Soar explores the spiritualist element of excavations of Viking burial ships in the 20th century. One of the things I like about pieces like this is the depiction and characterisation of local enthusiasts. In a world that feels increasingly centralised, controlled, driven by permissions and formal experts I love the idea that a wealthy lady can commission the equivalent of a self taught archaeologist to dig up her garden and find one of the most significant archaeological finds in the UK.
Kerri O'Shea has an excellent piece examining aspects of Susan Hill's 'The Woman in Black' with particular attention to the 1989 TV version and it's contrast to the book. I haven't seen that (or the stage play) but have seen the 2012 film and read the novel. I think it is an excellent exploration of the idea of grief, linking back to Victorian standards of women mourning. It touches on anger and morality and how the woman in black is viewed in respect of her rage, and how society viewed, and still views the fallen woman.
John Callow investigates the legend of the Black Dog on Peel Castle in the Isle of Man and I am interested in how black dog legends surface everywhere in the UK - some more famous than others. I think I am also interested in Manx folklore and need to learn more about it's history. It's largely known for motorcycle races and being a tax haven but it's somewhere I have never visited despite living close. It's almost as though it is separate from the UK and yet is a bridge between Britain and Ireland. I'd love to learn more about it's language, history and folklore.
Reggie Oliver wraps up the zine with an exploration of the ghost story throughout written history and where it may go. It's a rather bold exploration but it shows that ghosts have always been with us.
The art direction is fantastic, the look and feel and the fonts are excellent. I always enjoy Hellebore and long may it continue!
January 2, 2026
As my first Hellebore volume, I was not quite sure what to expect in tonal respects. I was happy to find it being an intelligent appraisal of its topics, with each article usually surveying a fairly narrow topic. The exception would be Reggie Oliver trying to cover 'the ghost story', as broad as that sounds. There are ample citations after each article giving this an academic flavor but for popular audiences. I was only disappointed not to find a list of recommended reading of the 'modern' ghost tales from Oliver then, to which he alluded. This series has an attractively high production value, full of illustrations, photos, and author bios.
November 19, 2025
A beautiful book that takes the academic stance towards yuletide hauntings, and there are some great chapters in this year's edition. Highly recommend!
March 30, 2026
A beautifully illustrated zine/journal. In style and focus, it reminded me a bit of the classic 1970s Readers' Digest compendium 'Folklore, Myths and Legends of Britain'.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews