One of the most iconic witch stories from Hanna Barbera is "The Witch's Cat". This episode was part of the classic Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! series, which aired in the 1970s. In this episode, the Mystery Inc. gang, consisting of Scooby-Doo, Shaggy, Fred, Velma, and Daphne, find themselves in a spooky town called Wicklesville. The town is known for its haunted reputation, and the gang is called to investigate strange occurrences at an old house. They soon meet Maldor the Malevolent, a grumpy old man who claims to be a warlock.
We are all haunted by certain writers whom we have never read. “I should read that author,” we think guiltily to ourselves in libraries, at bookstores, during dinner-party conversations. “One of these days,” we assure ourselves, “I’ll pick that up.” Perhaps the author has been recommended to us, by a friend, a teacher, a glowing review. Or perhaps we are simply aware that the author is one of the greats, a celebrated master of his craft, a creative genius we would be sorry to miss.
These are criticisms I would make in different ways of even such fresh and exciting stories as Angel Levine or The Last Mohican in one category, or of The Lady of the Lake in another. But I had never heard of The Magic Barrel , Malamud s first collection, published in 1958 and awarded the National Book Award, until a fellow writer urged it upon me.
They soon meet Maldor the Malevolent, a grumpy old man who claims to be a warlock. Maldor tells them a tale of a powerful witch who lived in the town many years ago. According to the legend, the witch had a magical cat familiar who would do her bidding.
Bernard Malamud: The Magic Barrel
I have raved about Bernard Malamud’s novels here (well, one of them), but it never occurred to me to try his stories until I was on holiday and picked up a copy of this book in a second-hand bookshop in Kenmare, Co Kerry. Anyone who has been on holiday with an infant will know, in any event, that a book of stories averaging twelve pages apiece is the perfect occupation.
The Magic Barrel (1958) was Malamud’s first collection and contains stories which are, not to muck about, stunning. Together, they create a portrait of Jewish immigrant life in post-war America which, if not quite Dubliners, is coherent and complete.
Many elements recur in these stories: the characters are either penniless or heading there. The highest social station they can attain is to run their own small business: a store (as with his novel The Assistant), or a shoemender’s. Such is the role of Feld in ‘The First Seven Years’, who reacts with horror (“You are crazy. She will never marry a man as old and ugly as you”) when his assistant Sobel tells him that he wants to marry Feld’s daughter Miriam:
Then he realized that what he called ugly was not Sobel but Miriam’s life if she married him. He felt for his daughter a strange and gripping sorrow, as if she were already Sobel’s bride, the wife, after all, of a shoemaker, and had in her life no more than her mother had had. And all his dreams for her – why he had slaved and destroyed his heart with anxiety and labor – all these dreams of a better life were dead.
In ‘Angel Levine’, the small businessman is Manischevitz, a tailor, who has “suffered many reverses and indignities.” Like most of these characters, he is at the end of his rope. When an episode of divine intervention seems to relieve his backache for a few days, he is disappointed when it returns. “He had hoped for a longer interval of easement, long enough to have some thought other than of himself and his troubles.” He resents the pain not just because it is pain but for richer reasons too.
Who, after all, was Manischewitz that he had been given so much to suffer? A tailor. Certainly not a man of talent. Upon him suffering was largely wasted. It went nowhere, into nothing: into more suffering.
We might observe that, if Malamud is speaking from experience, either his own or that of his contemporaries, then the suffering did not go into nothing. Anyway these stories, for their grim detail, are not for a moment colourless. Malamud has black humour by the bucket and, linked to this, a mastery of insight into his characters’ worst impulses. In ‘The Girl of My Dreams’, a frustrated writer, Mitka, meets a woman with whom he has struck up a correspondence, and ends up more frustrated still. “The irony of it – immured for months in a rat hole, to come forth for this. He’d go back now and entomb himself forever.” How much lower can he go? “He was wondering, what after this? Where would he drag that dead cat, his soul?”
As well as recurring settings – I’m guessing too that Malamud spent time in Italy when young – there is a universal current of desire (or need) in the stories in The Magic Barrel. I remember, years ago, reading Kurt Vonnegut’s guidelines for story writing. The third was “Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.” This seemed to me laughably unsophisticated (though if these were rules by which Vonnegut wrote the stories in Welcome to the Monkey-House, I couldn’t much complain about the results). Well, to prove me wrong again, Malamud makes an art out of making his characters want something. Often this is, or appears to the character to be, selfless, something they want for others rather than themselves: Feld’s wishes for his daughter’s future in ‘The First Seven Years’; Rosen’s urgent desire to help a widow financially in the extraordinary ‘Take Pity’ (one of those stories where the last few lines make you recast everything that has gone before). A couple of times, in ‘Behold the Key’ and ‘The Magic Barrel’, the want runs so deep that Malamud gives us a comedy of multiple attempts to get something right: an apartment, a bride. But his characters are destined not to get things right, though Malamud’s compassionate eye means we feel nothing but sympathy for them.
So here is a chance encounter that thrilled me as much as any book this year. Great writing in capsule form, Malamud’s Magic Barrel is a bran tub of delights.
In Mr. Malamud’s case we feel this particularly when we consider the wonderful sureness with which he can reach out and touch directly the emotions of his characters: the nakedness of the impact can be almost too much to bear. And we recognize his power too when we acknowledge that humble and simple though his characters are, they have an awareness of a kind that is much rarer and subtler and more difficult to communicate than anything that usually goes under the heading of “intelligence.” Mr. Malamud’s bakers, pressers, egg candlers, “holdupniks,” storekeepers and the rest, are morally intelligent; they are aware that their actions take place in a real world and have consequences for which they are responsible.
However, the cat turned against her and caused her to vanish into thin air. As the gang explores the old house, they encounter various paranormal activities that suggest the witch's presence. They witness objects moving on their own, eerie sounds, and even see the witch herself. Each member of the gang starts suspecting Maldor, as he seems to have a particular interest in the legend and the house. However, their suspicions shift when they discover the true culprit. It turns out that Maldor is actually the magical cat transformed into human form. He had been using his powers to scare people away and keep the legend alive. His motive was revenge against the town for rejecting and mistreating him as a cat. The gang manages to stop Maldor and his reign of terror, restoring peace to the town of Wicklesville. In the end, they unmask him and reveal his true identity to the townspeople. "The Witch's Cat" is a classic Hanna Barbera witch story that incorporates mystery, suspense, and a touch of the supernatural. It highlights the theme of revenge and the consequences it can have on both the avenger and those around them..
Reviews for "A Touch of Magic: Hanna Barbera's Witch Stories and their Impact on Pop Culture"
1. John - 2 stars
I found "Hanna Barbera Witch Story" to be quite disappointing. The animation style felt outdated and the storyline was predictable. The humor fell flat and the characters lacked depth. Overall, it just didn't live up to my expectations.
2. Sarah - 1 star
I couldn't stand "Hanna Barbera Witch Story". The animation was horrendous, even for a classic show. The characters were uninteresting and I couldn't connect with any of them. The plot was meandering and had no clear direction. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone.
3. Michael - 2.5 stars
"Hanna Barbera Witch Story" was nothing special. The animation was average, and the writing was mediocre at best. The humor was forced and the characters were forgettable. It just felt like a shallow attempt to cash in on nostalgia without putting in much effort.
4. Emily - 2 stars
I was not impressed with "Hanna Barbera Witch Story". The story felt rushed and poorly developed. The characters lacked personality and their motivations were unclear. The animation was subpar and the jokes were stale. I wouldn't waste my time watching this show again.
5. David - 1.5 stars
I found "Hanna Barbera Witch Story" to be unwatchable. The animation was hardly tolerable, even for a show from that era. The dialogue was cringe-worthy and the plot was unimaginative. I couldn't find a single redeeming quality in this show.