For the ancients, the subterranean world was the realm of the dead; in the Medieval era it became the abode of demons. With earth we cover our dead. Embedded in our psyche is the idea that what has been buried ought not to return—at least not to this world.
From M.R. James’s Templar whistle sticking out of the sands of an East Anglian beach to the demonic skull emerging from the mud in The Blood on Satan’s Claw, the act of unearthing in folk horror always brings back something long-forgotten, threatening, and uncanny.
In The Unearthing Issue we look at these stories to examine what once was buried and analyse the consequences of its disinterment. The re-emergence of cursed objects, human remains, and Martian spaceships threatens us with the repetition of past traumas and forgotten histories. But if the earth often acts as a repository of our darkest truths, the act of unearthing forces us to confront them. In spite of fears and tribulations, only by learning about our past will we stand the chance of breaking the cycle.
Hellebore is a collection of writings and essays devoted to folk horror and the themes that inspire it: folklore, myth, history, archaeology, psychogeography, and the occult.
Featuring words by Gabriel Moshenska, Katy Soar, David Evans-Powell, Peter Hewitt, Jonah Locksley, Kenneth Brophy, Aleco Julius, Amara Thornton and Subhadra Das. Artwork by Courtney Brooke (Lightwitch), Isa Bancewicz, and Nathaniel Winter-Hébert.
This is probably my least favourite of all the ‘Hellebore’ magazines I’ve read so far, as a few of the articles just weren’t all that interesting to me. However, there are a couple of absolute standout articles: ‘The Hexham Mystery’ (about a couple of cursed heads supposedly from the Iron Age, but more likely from the modern era, that terrified everyone) and ‘The Abyss of All Being’ (about the terror of the discovery of “deep time” and the knowledge of how truly insignificant the human race is by the Victorians). Both of these articles were amazing and among the best I’ve read in the magazine series so far!
I also really appreciated that we get a bit more diversity in this book from the writers and contributors themselves. It makes the whole thing feel so much more rounded with the variety of perspectives.
This is probably my least favourite issue of Hellebore so far, but that doesn't diminish the excellent product that it is. Hellebore is an occult folk horror zine, with every issue having it's own theme. This issue is 'Unearthing' - that act of digging up something from the ground that has been laid to rest, and what that recovery means.
As always, the zine looks beautiful, and each article is accessible and easy to read whilst retaining a somewhat scholarly approach. Each article is referenced and each issue leaves me with a reading and viewing list much longer than I started.
I don't know if it is the mood I am in, but it felt like I had read some of the arguments or articles before (for instance whilst it is important to address the decolonisation of museums and how they make people invisible, I feel I have read this article in different ways often recently). Since the theme is 'unearthing' this issue feels more like an archaeology issue than a folk horror one. There is an interesting article about scientists in the late 18th century surmising that the world is much older than previously thought, and a brief nod to 'cosmic horror' in the sense that all of a sudden humans know the past is unimaginable, and therefore the future is too - but I didn't really pick up on the 'folk horror' themes.
'The Witches of Florence' by J Locksley was one of my favourite pieces, investigating the story of Roma Lister - an occultist who knew a stregheria who apparently could trace her lineage back to Etruscan days and had a knowledge of rituals and spells. Whether this was true or not, the documentation of said knowledge influenced the early 20th century writings of pagans and formed the basis of the Wicca religion.
'The Cursed Field' by Peter Hewitt is a brilliant introduction to a field in Cornwall said to be cursed by a witch, and over the decades has a storied history of ill fortune and attempts to end the curse (even in 1997 when a water pipe was laid a local priest blessed the field). There is a nod here to the Bronze Age burial grounds that are often found along the Cornish coast, and the bodies that come to the surface which has been both a source of research - but also horror fiction (I'm looking at The Reddening!)
Katy Soar's work rarely disappoints exploring Arthur Machen, and his links to archaeology of the era and how that influenced his work. In particular the concept of a Roman 'god of the Abyss' . It's something that when I was reading it I felt I would mine it for influence on my own writing.
I am so, so happy to see the notable progress in this issue in terms of representation and inclusion. I was a bit nervous to crack this one open after the last few issues, but was very relieved to see a broader array of perspectives, not only because it adds a richness and depth to the publication that had been a bit lacking in previous issues, but also because it blows open the possibilities for this magazine’s scope, audience, and influence going forward. I did dock it one star because I believe an even wider array of perspectives here is not only possible, but absolutely vital. The writing herein still seems to be predominantly by writers who fit into most of the current western normative identities, for example. And when showcased directly next to the work of writers who do not fit into all such boxes, it becomes abundantly clear why a wide and well-balanced array of representation matters. For example, some articles, with reverent references to Lovecraft—of all people—pale in comparison to others that devote themselves to challenging how we engage with modern museums, highlighting the colonialism baked into certain cultural practices and perspectives that we take for granted. I would love to see more time devoted in future issues to topics such as the latter, which directly and intentionally dismantle problematic elements of the folk horror tradition while simultaneously highlighting ways in which we can carry the genre forward in a thoughtful and positive way. I would be thrilled to see pieces that break down the reputations of people like Lovecraft and Lewis and Stoker, for example—instead of uplifting them while ignoring their deeply problematic influences—as well as more articles that replace the traditional marginalization and mystifying of “non-white” traditions with a respectful and good-faith exploration, uplifting, and centering of those people and artifacts. Folk horror has a lot to own up to before we can carry it forward, after all. And while this publication has begun with some very good strides, an important step going forward is to leave no room at all for uplifting racist voices, and to devote that space to an even wider array of previously marginalized voices. If we are honestly going to espouse an affinity for and proximity to witches, after all, we need to do everything in our power to be fully on their side. To the creators—please keep going in the direction that this issue is turning!! I will be excitedly awaiting the next one.
This is a weak edition, especially the last three articles with their plaintive themes of decolonization, as if noone had ever pointed to the political dimensions of museums and curatorship before these junior researchers came along. Graduates of UCL are overrepresented, and the usual uncaptioned and/or poorly reproduced illustrations very noticeably pad things out. It looks to me as though the editor needs to look outside of her circle of friends and widen the scope of this periodical.