Folk magic from Sicily is a rich and vibrant tradition that has been passed down through generations. It is a unique blend of Catholicism, pagan beliefs, and superstitions, creating a tapestry of rituals and practices that are deeply ingrained in the Sicilian culture. **One of the main aspects of folk magic from Sicily is the belief in the evil eye.** It is believed that certain individuals have the power to cast a malevolent gaze upon others, causing misfortune, illness, or even death. To ward off the evil eye, various talismans and amulets are used, including the cornicello, a small horn-shaped pendant, and the mano cornuta, or "horns of the bull" hand gesture. Another prominent feature of Sicilian folk magic is the use of herbs and plants for healing and protection.
From a 1428 testimony by accused witch Matteuccia da Todi, we have the first mention (anywhere in Europe) of witches flying to their sabbats — their gathering spot, in this case, being Benevento. Matteuccia was also the first to speak of flying ointment as a means to achieve this. We include a musical setting by the southern Italian band Janara of the incantation that was spoken while applying the ointment.
I can see it manifest in my own familial trauma of oftentimes the need to be unsustainably generous when there really is not enough to needing to be seen image-wise as having a lot when there really is not enough. While most European witches were intermediaries between the mortal world and the Devil, standing against everything that was good and holy, the Sicilian fairy witches were mortal messengers that could interact with both the fairy realm and the human world.
Another prominent feature of Sicilian folk magic is the use of herbs and plants for healing and protection. **The muti, or magical potions, are made from a combination of herbs, spices, and other natural ingredients believed to possess supernatural properties.** These potions are often used to treat ailments, protect against evil spirits, and even enhance luck and prosperity.
Witchcraft in Southern Italy
In southern Italy, belief in witchcraft has a long history, much of it centering on the town of Benevento, about 30 miles east of Naples.
From a 1428 testimony by accused witch Matteuccia da Todi, we have the first mention (anywhere in Europe) of witches flying to their sabbats — their gathering spot, in this case, being Benevento. Matteuccia was also the first to speak of flying ointment as a means to achieve this. We include a musical setting by the southern Italian band Janara of the incantation that was spoken while applying the ointment.
Sermons of the Franciscan monk Bernardino of Siena seems to have introduced the idea of Benevento as a mecca for witches, mentioning a certain tree as the center of these gatherings, one later identified as a walnut.
“Walnut of Benevento” by Raffaele Mainella, 1890?
Though no tradition around a specific location for this tree has survived in Benevento, the legend has been wholeheartedly embraced by the local distillers of Strega (witch) liqueur, created in 1833 and now distributed worldwide. This seems to have been part of a 19th-century revival of interest in the legend, which saw the composition of a popular poem, “The Walnut Tree of Benevento,” which added a serpent living in the tree’s branches, and probably inspired Niccolo Paganini to compose his signature piece, Le Streghe, (The Witches) from which we hear a snippet. (Yes, that’s a real clip about Strege liqueur and elections from the film Kitty Foyle).
What really locked down the local mythology was an essay written in 1634 by Benevento’s chielf physician, Pietro Piperno, one titled “On the Magical Walnut Tree of Benevento.” This is the first mention of the species of tree in question. Piperno also places the walnut at the center of a curious rite conducted by the Lombards occupying the region in the 10th century, a rite he sees as a model for the Benevento witch tales of his own day. Mrs. Karswell also reads for us a retelling from Piperno’s text of a hunchback who stumbles upon a sabbat, only to have the hump on his back magically removed.
The discovery of a the ruins of a temple to Isis in Benevento in 1903 led to further speculation as to possible origins of the region’s witchcraft myths, but it was the Roman goddess Diana most strongly associated with southern Italy’s witches, in part because the name used there for a type of witch is janara, believed to come from the Latin dianara, a servant of Diana.
We hear snippet form a 2015 Italian horror film called Janara (retitled in English “The Witch Behind the Door”), a bit about folk practices taken against these night-hag-esque beings, and of their activities at sabbats, which apparently includes dancing La Volta.
Then we hear a tale of “the fishwife of Palermo,” as she’s identified in 1588 trial records of the Sicilian Inquisition. It illustrates an aspect of Italian witch mythology that seems to have absorbed elements of fairy lore, including details such as a beautiful king and queen presiding over nocturnal gatherings.
From Naples we hear the sad tale of the “Witch of Port’Alba,” who was sentenced to a peculiar fate for casting spells on her wedding day, a story involving leaping, bell-wearing witches on the slopes of Mr. Faito on Naple’s southern outskirts, and a story of a witch calming lost souls said to be screaming from the depths of Vesuvius.
Still from “Magia Lucan” by Di Gianni”
We then move beyond the witch of folklore and Inquisitions to the notion of the witch as folk-healer, something very much alive and well, as represented in the short documentaries on Souther Italian magic made in the 1950s-70s by Luigi Di Gianni in conjunction with anthropologist Ernesto de Martino, who was mentioned in our discussion of tarantella possession in our Pied Piper episode. An example of these films would be L’Attaccatura (dialect for fattucchiera, the standard Italian for folk-healer, or literally “fixer.” A whole playlist of the films can be found here, though unless you speak Italian (and local dialects), you’ll have to settle for YouTube’s auto-translate function.
Of great interest to those consulting folk-healers is protection from the evil eye or malocchio. The concept of fascinatura or “binding” is central to the evil eye’s workings, one which happens to be the English title of a 2020 Italian folk-horror film sampled in the discussion.
The driving force of envy said to be behind the evil eye is well illustrated in the spurned lover a the center of the 1963 film Il Demonio, from which we hear excerpts. (In the show, I mistakenly called the film “Demonia” (feminine form), missing the point somewhat as the actual “demonic” forces portrayed might not be those belonging to the rejected female lover and town outcast/witch, but those of the male villagers around her.)
Still from “Il Demonio”
A number of magical charms and gestures prescribed against the evil eye are examined, as are the pazzarielli of Naples, flamboyantly costumed characters who deliver street blessings against the malocchio. Their characteristic cry, “Sciò sciò ciucciuè” (sort of “shoo, bad luck”) is take up as a 1953 song by Nino Taranto, which we hear (along with a Calabrian song about the possessor of the evil eye, the jetattore)
“Sciò Sciò” Neapolitan luck-bringer figure
Our show concludes with look at the strange tale illustrating the dangers of taking the advice of fattucchiera in the wrong way. It’s that of Leonarda Cianciulli, Italy’s answer to Sweeney Tod. We also hear a bit about the 1977 Italian cult comedy, Gran Bolitto (English title: Black Journal), which combines Cianciulli’s grisly tale with elements of drag and musical theater.
For centuries, witches have been at the heart of investigations, trials, and executions throughout Europe and the New World. In Sicily, though, the witch took on a rather different appearance.
**Candle magic is another important aspect of folk magic from Sicily.** Candles are used to communicate with the saints, petition for assistance, and create a sacred space for rituals and prayers. Each color of candle represents a different intention or purpose, such as red for love, green for prosperity, and white for purity. Sacred objects also play a significant role in Sicilian folk magic. **Relics, images of saints, and holy water are believed to harness divine power and provide protection and blessings.** These objects are often kept in homes, carried on one's person, or used in rituals and ceremonies. Despite the influence of Catholicism, **folk magic from Sicily retains many pagan elements.** The worship of ancient goddesses, such as Diana and Persephone, is still practiced alongside the veneration of Catholic saints, reflecting the syncretic nature of Sicilian spirituality. In conclusion, **folk magic from Sicily is a complex and deeply rooted tradition that combines elements of Catholicism, paganism, and superstition.** It is a vibrant tapestry of rituals, beliefs, and practices that continue to captivate and enchant those who delve into its mystical realm..
Reviews for "The Art of Sicilian Spellcasting: Spells and Incantations Passed Down through Generations"
1. Mike - 2/5 - I was really disappointed with "Folk Magic from Sicily". I was expecting to learn about the rich cultural traditions and practices of Sicilian folk magic, but instead, I found the book to be shallow and lacking in depth. The information provided was very basic, and there was a serious lack of historical context. Overall, I felt like this book missed the mark and failed to provide a comprehensive understanding of Sicilian folk magic.
2. Lisa - 1/5 - I cannot recommend "Folk Magic from Sicily" at all. This book was a complete waste of my time and money. The content was poorly researched and poorly presented. It felt like the author gathered a bunch of random information from the internet without any real knowledge or understanding of the subject matter. The explanations were confusing and contradictory, making it impossible to follow along. Save yourself the frustration and find a different book on Sicilian folk magic.
3. Mark - 2/5 - I had high hopes for "Folk Magic from Sicily", but unfortunately, it fell short of my expectations. The writing style was dry and lacked any sort of engaging storytelling. The book lacked depth and failed to provide the in-depth knowledge and practical tips I was looking for. It felt more like a general overview rather than a comprehensive guide. Overall, I found this book to be a disappointment and would not recommend it to others interested in exploring Sicilian folk magic.
4. Sarah - 3/5 - While "Folk Magic from Sicily" touched upon some interesting elements of Sicilian folk magic, it lacked depth and left me wanting more. The information provided was quite basic and didn't offer any unique insights or perspectives. Additionally, the organization of the book was confusing, making it difficult to follow along or find specific information. Overall, it was an okay read, but I was expecting more detailed explanations and practical applications.