As a summer replacement for our regular episode: a round-up of non-English-language Folk-Horror films (here as audio but also available as video)
The presentation was created by Mr. Ridenour’s for the Rural Gothic conference hosted by The Folklore Podcast on 9/26/2020. The focus is on European folk-horror films, including Russian productions, and a few especially interesting Turkish films are also highlighted. It’s by no means comprehensive and naturally only includes films made in 2020 or earlier.
You’ll hear the audio component if you continue listening here, but to watch the trailers, go to the Bone and Sickle YouTube channel (here: https://youtu.be/fJm6hgzaPV4). Or just Google “YouTube” and “Bone and Sickle” and you’ll find “International Folk-Horror Films” as a video.
These are the films discussed (English titles).
ANTHOLOGY FILMS:A Field Guide to Evil – Tale of Tales.
SPANISH LANGUAGE:Tombs of the Blind Dead – Macario – Poison for the Fairies – The Witches of Zugarramurdi – Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil.
GERMAN-LANGUAGE:Mark of the Devil – Laurin – Sennentuntschi.
SCANDINAVIAN:The White Reindeer- The Juniper Tree – Trollhunter – Rare Exports- Thale- Border.
POLISH-ESTONIAN:Witchhammer – November.
CZECH-SLOVAKIAN:Valerie and Her Week of Wonders – Morgiana- Beauty and the Beast – The Cremator- Kytice – The Noonday Witch – Little Otik.
RUSSIAN:Vasilisa the Beautiful – Kashchey the Immortal – Viy – Viy: The Forbidden Empire – The Night Before Christmas – Gogol: The Beginning – Gogol: Viy – Gogol: A Terrible Revenge – The Bride – Queen of Spades: The Dark Rite – The Mermaid: Lake of the Dead – Ghouls (Vamps).
The Fates of Classical Antiquity not only survived in the form of related fairy-tale figures but also as the object of superstitions and rituals associated with newborns. In South Slavic and Balkan regions particularly, these customs represent a surprisingly long-lived and genuine case of pagan survival.
We begin our episode examining the fairy godmothers of “Sleeping Beauty” as embodiments of the Fates. Mrs. Karswell reads a few key passages from the definitive version of the story included in Charles Perrault’s 1697 collection, Histoires ou contes du temps passé (“stories of times gone by.”) We learn how the fairies fulfill the historical role of godparents at the newborn’s christening. We also note the peculiar emphasis on the quality of what’s set before the fairies at the christening banquet, observing how a failure there leads the wicked fairy to curse the Sleeping Beauty.
1874 illustration by František Doucha for a Czech edition of Sleeping Beauty
We then explore antecedents to Perrault’s tale, beginning with the 14th-century French chivalric romance, Perceforest. A peripheral story in this 8-volume work is that of Troylus and Zeelandine, in which the role of Sleeping Beauty’s fairy godmothers are played by Greek and Roman deities, with Venus as supporter of Princess Zeelandine (and her suitor Troylus) and Themis cursing Zeelandine to sleep in a manner similar to Perrault’s princess. A failure to correctly lay out Themis’ required items at the christening banquet is again again responsible for the curse, though the awakening of Zeelandine by Troylus awakens is surprisingly different and a notorious example of medieval bawdiness.
Preceding Perceforest, there was the late 13th-century French historical romance Huon of Bordeaux, in which we hear of the newborn fairy king Oberon being both cursed and blessed by fairies attending his birth. From around the same time, French poet and composer Adam de la Halle’s Play of the Bower describes a banquet at which fairy guests pronounce a curses and blessings on those in attendance prompted again by their pleasure or displeasure at what’s set before them at a banquet. We also hear of the Danish King King Fridlevus (Fridlef II) bringing his newborn son to a temple of “three maidens” to ascertain the destiny pf the child in Gesta Danorum (“Deeds of the Danes”).written around 1200 by Saxo Grammaticus. And lest listeners think such appeals to the Fates were strictly a literary motif, we hear Burchard of Worms, in his early-11th-century Decretum, condemning the not uncommon among the Germans of his region of setting up offering tables for the Fates. By this point, the connection between how fairy godmother types are served at a banquet and offerings made to the Fates to ensure a cild’s fortune should be clear.
We then turn back to the Greek Fates, the Moirai (Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos) and the Roman Parcae (Nona, Decuma, and Morta). Particularly in the case of the Parcae, we hear examples of their connection to the newborn’s destiny in the celebration nine or ten days after the birth of the dies lustricus, during which offerings were made to the Fates.
The Three Fates by Bernardo Strozzi, late 17th c
We make a brief side-trip to discuss the Norns (Urðr, Verðandi and Skuld), the Germanic equivalent of the Fates. These are more distant cousins, not strongly associated with the newborn and his destiny, though we do hear a passage from the Poetic Edda, in which the Norns are present birth of the hero Helgi. We also hear a gruesome passage from the 13th-century Njáls Saga, in which the Valkyries weave out the fate of those who will die in the Battle of Clontarf.
The Anglo-Saxon equivalent of the Fates, the Wyrds, are also discussed, and we hear how the witches in Macbeth partook in this identity as the “Weird Sisters,” an association Shakespeare inherited from his source material, the 1587 history of Great Britain, known as Holinshed’s Chronicles.
We then turn our attention the Fates in Slavic and Balkan lands — the Rozhanitsy in Russia and Ukraine, the Sudičky among West Slavs, the Orisnici in Bulgaria, and the Ursitoare in Romania. As these customs survived into more recent times, there is a vast body of folklore to describe — much of it revolving around the setting up of offering tables and the communication of newborn’s destiny through dreams sent to mothers and midwives and confirmed by marks (visible or invisible) left upon the infant during their nocturnal visits on the third night after birth.
We also enjoy a couple entertaining folktales about Romania’s Ursitoare collected in the early years of the 20th century by folklorist Tudor Pamfile.
While such customs have since died out in Greece, customs related to the Moirai preserved into the early 20th century, as we hear in passages of John Lawson’s Modern Greek Folklore and Ancient Greek Religion: A Study in Survivals, written in 1900.
We end with a brief look at christening parties in modern Romania, at which costumed Ursitoare play an increasingly major role, this paired with an introduction to the popular song “Ursitoare, Ursitoare.”
Romanian Fates attend a christening party. Ursitoare show by FormatiiNunta
Mr. Ridenour introduces his new book “A Season of Madness: Fools, Monsters, and Marvels of the Old-World Carnival,” explaining how the project grew out of his research for “The Krampus and the Old, Dark Christmas.” In this episode, he sketches out chapter themes and topics, from ancient Rome to modern Bulgaria, focusing particularly on cultural hinterlands where festivities still echo the cruel realities of the old, agricultural world and where medieval Christianity intertwines with pagan practice. The Carnival portrayed is at once beautiful, strange, and savage. Spring is welcomed by clowns waving inflated pig bladders. Stalking sheepskin monsters brandish clubs bristling with hedgehog spines, and plows are dragged over cobblestone streets by celebrants wearing masks painted with cow’s blood. Folk horror fans take heart as the Old World welcomes Spring!
Available now for pre-order. US Publication date, May 6, 20205.
A few advance reviews of the book:
“Sumptuously illustrated and written with clarity, eloquence, and wry humor, “A Season of Madness” is one of those rare books that can pass muster as an academic study yet also provide a good read. Al Ridenour’s meticulous research exposes the subtleties and outrageous quirks of a topic you didn’t know you wanted to learn about until you picked up his book. Under his direction, the madness once again reigns, as the neglected history of European Carnival is placed center stage before the reader, in all its seedy, wild, and triumphant glory.”
—Dr. Paul Koudounaris, author and photographer of: “Faithful unto Death,” “Heavenly Bodies,” and “Empire of Death“
“A Season of Madness“ is a fantastic carnival of a book. Equal parts irreverent and erudite, it lovingly captures the depth, complexity, and subversive nature of the carnival, from its ancient roots to modern expression. Gorgeously illustrated, intellectually hefty, and also fun, it is a seductive introduction to the material cultures, legends, and history of this perennially fascinating and slippery subject.”
—Joanna Ebenstein, Founder and Creative Director of Morbid Anatomy
In celebration of Mr. Ridenour’s new book on folk-Carnival traditions, Bone and Sickle is making available the new ultra-super deluxe CARNIVAL KING Patreon Rewards Tier celebrating the release of my book on Carnival traditions.
CARNIVAL KING Rewards are available either on an annual or monthly basis.
BILLED ANNUALLY – $204 ($17 month, 15% savings)
Annual Pledge — your book, video playlists, and merch will be sent ASAP.
BILLED MONTHLY – $20
Monthly Pledge — you receive your rewards after 6 months (US) or 8 months (International)
Here’s what CARNIVAL KING includes:
1) Signed Copy: “A SEASON OF MADNESS”
A SEASON OF MADNESS: FOOLS, MONSTERS, AND MARVELS OF THE OLD-WORLD CARNIVAL will be published in the US on May 6, but Carnival King subscribers may receive their signed copy of the book before the official publication date.
Growing out of Ridenour’s study of the Krampus and Winter folk celebrations, his latest volume explores the traditions of early Spring, the “Fifth Season” of Carnival. Sumptuously illustrated with over one hundred historical and modern images and illustrations, A Season of Madness takes readers to cultural hinterlands where Carnival is more strange, more marvelous, and even a bit frightening — where Spring is welcomed by clowns carrying inflated pig bladders, where stalking sheepskin monsters wave clubs bristling with hedgehog spines, and plows are dragged over cobblestone streets by celebrants in masks painted with cow’s blood. Folk horror fans take heart as the Old World welcomes Spring!
2) LIBRARY OF COMPANION VIDEOS
Unlock Mr. Ridenour’s private YouTube playlist created for “Season of Madness.” Included are 60+ videos depicting traditional processions and figures curated into playlists matching themes and chapters of the book. These are not videos an average user would easily find as they were sourced using a variety of specialized terms in foreign languages (including Cyrillic Bulgarian, Russian, and Ukrainian).
3) HUNGARIAN CARNIVAL STAMPS
Issued by the Hungarian Post in 1973, these collectible stamps depict figures of the folk Carnival known as Busójárás. We’ll slip a few into the book is mailed. (While supplies last)
4) CHOICE OF MUG OR SHIRT
(Mugs and shirts also independently available via our Etsy Shop.)
“MADNESS” MUGS:
Medieval Carnival Musicians mug
Slovenian Carnival Monster (Kurent) mug
“MADNESS” T-SHIRTS
Featuring illustrations from the book. In a wide array of cuts, sizes, colors.
Carnival Fool led by Death w/ “Bone and Sickle Podcast”
“Party Like It’s 1598 shirt” (16th-cent German Carnival costumes)
SOUNDSCAPES Narration for each episode is removed allowing you to enjoy the rich, wall-to-wall soundscaping consisting of original music woven around ambient sounds, drones, effects, and snippets from films, old records, or other recordings. Make up your own narration! (Monthly reward)
SHOW SCRIPTS: A Pdf version of the script for the month’s show is supplied (Monthly).
BONUS EPISODE : The Bonus Episode, streamed via a private Patreon feed, features Mr. Ridenour reading from choice 19th and early 20th century sourcebooks on folklore, superstitions, antiquities, and historical oddities, all set against an appropriately moody, droning soundscape. Shows are released once monthly and run 15-35 minutes. (Monthly)
BLOG ACCESS Unlock posts sharing extra written material that didn’t make it into the show. Includes original text and links to additional texts, videos, or music mentioned in the post or relevant to recent shows. (Every few days).
The Sin-Eater was a figure associated with funerals of the 17th – 19th century, mostly in Wales, and the English counties along the Welsh border. According to tradition, he was invited by grieving families to transfer the burden of sins from the deceased to himself by consuming bread and beer in the vicinity of the corpse, after which he might receive some financial compensation. He typically came from the fringes of society and was said to be motivated by a combination of poverty, greed, and irreligious indifference to matters of eternal judgement.
After a quick montage of clips from the generally terrible films made on the theme —Sin Eater (2022), Curse of the Sin Eater (2024), The Last Sin Eater (2007) — we review the historical references to the tradition, which are surprisingly few in number.
The first comes from a particularly early 1686 collection of British folklore written by John Aubrey, The Remaines of Gentilisme and Judaisme. His characterization of the custom is essentially that described above and despite the early date of the text, he describes the practice using the past tense, though qualifies this somewhat later mentioning that it is “rarely used in our days.” Mrs. Karswell, of course, reads Aubrey’s original text along with our subsequent examples.
Our next account from 1715 comes from antiquarian John Bagford (published later, in 1776) in John Lelan’s, compendium, Collectanea. It does not mention Wales but locates the custom in Shropshire, an English county bordering Wales. It also has the Sin-Eater remaining outside the house where the body lies as he consumes his bread and ale. Bagford also adds a verbal formula, which the Sin-Eater is supposed to pronounce, mentioning the deceased’s soul attaning “ease and rest,” for which the Sin-Eater’s soul has been “pawned.” These phrases are recycled in later literature on the topic.
The next text comes from 1838, appearing in the travelogue Hill And Valley: Or Hours In England And Wales by the Scottish novelist, Catherine Sinclair. It’s particularly brief, adding little detail other than specifying the tradition as one (formerly) belonging to Monmouthshire, in eastern Wales. She also characterizes the custom derisively as “popish,” or belonging to the Catholic past.
The next and final account (not counting clearly recycled retellings of those above) was contributed by Matthew Moggridge in an 1838 journal of the Cambrian Archaeological Association. It also relegates the tradition to the past, placing it specifically in the Welsh town of f Llandybie. Moggridge removes the ale, keeps the bread, and
adds salt (used symbolically rather eaten). He also makes explicit the Sin-Eater’s pariah status.
Aubrey’s, Bagford’s, an Moggridge’s accounts received greater attention when collected in an 1892 article by E. Sidney Hartland in the journal Folk-Lore, the publication of the British Folk-Lore Society. Hartland’s “rediscovery” of these texts fueled the interest of the British public and corresponded with a rising fascination in such things as represented in the arts by the Celtic Revival instigated by William Butler Yeats’ 1893 work, The Celtic Twilight and the ongoing publication between 1890 and 1915 of James Frazer’s evolving work on folklore, The Golden Bough.
As there are no firsthand accounts describing sin-eating as a custom still in existence a misinterpretation or garbled accounting of another tradition may lie behind the concept of the Sin-Eater. The second half of our show examines the extent to which creative myth-making formed the concept along with the role older Catholic practices may have contributed to the tales.
The earliest literary Sin-Eater we encounter appears in a chapter of Joseph Downes’ 1836 novel, The Mountain Decameron. Mrs. Karswell reads an evocative passage or two describing a traveler stumbling into a scene of sin-eating while traveling through a haunted bog. Along with several other quick summaries of post-Hartland novels treating the topic, we hear a sin-eater clip from a BBC adaptation of Mary Webb’s 1924 novel, Precious Bane and learn how Christanna Brand’s 1939 short story “The Sins of the Fathers,” ended up in an episode of Rod Serling’s 1970s TV series, Night Gallery.
We then survey a number of transactional funeral customs possibly reinterpreted as Sin-Eater lore, among these: “funeral doles” and “avral feasts” at which property of the deceased was disbursed, unsavory pallbearers paid off in food and drink, and the distribution of “soul-cakes “and the custom of “souling” to assure the deceased’s heavenward ascent. Best of all, we learn about that cousin to the soul-cake — the funeral cookie.
Illustration of Sin-Eating from The Cambrian Popular Antiquities (1815)
A short extra episode on Befana, the gift-bringing Italian witch associated with Twelfth Night, the end of the Christmas season. Included in the show is material from the book, “The Krampus and the Old, Dark Christmas,” traditional music of the season, audio from actual celebrations, and a few pop songs associated with la Befana.
Befana on the Piazza Navona, Rome.The Cucibocca of Montescaglioso
Apparently, I clipped off the beginning of the show during the initial upload. It’s been fixed, so this would only effect those downloading yesterday, but for those who missed it, here it is..
Ouija boards, or more generally, “spirit boards” have antecedents going back to the very first days of the Spiritualist movement. We begin our show with a seasonally spooky visit to the cottage of the Fox sisters in Hydesville, New York, where the ghost of a murdered pedlar supposedly began communicating with the family through a series of mysterious knocking sounds. While the method used by the Fox sisters to translate these knocks into messages anticipates the process of pointing out letters on a Ouija board, the evolution of spirit boards was not so straightforward.
We learn how the planchette, used on board as a pointer, appeared long before any boards were printed and was initially used as a writing device. It was equipped with a pencil inserted through it like a third leg. As the planchette was guided by the user (supernaturally and/or unconsciously), “spirit writing” was produced.
We next hear from a number of contemporaneous accounts describing the pencil planchette as if it were inhabited by a ghostly presence and how these devices first appeared in Paris and London. Once imported to America, the homeland of the Spiritualist movement, merchants in Boston and New York did brisk business in producing versions of their own.
By the 1880s, the planchette was finally beginning to be used as a pointer, and W. S. Reed Toy Company of Massachusetts became one of the first merchants to produce boards printed with letters. Reed’s model was known as the “Witch-board.” Along the way, we hear of an unexpected connection between President Grover Cleveland and Witch-boards.
We then go to Baltimore, where former fertilizer salesman Charles W. Kenner partners with attorney Elijah to create their own version of the ghostly spelling board, one they name Ouija. Lore around the naming of the board (through a seance) and peculiar happenings at the US Patent office in Washington DC are discussed along with the passing of rights to manufacture the novelty to William Fuld, who manufactured the Ouija board from 1897 to his untimely death in 1927.
We discuss the phenomenon of “Ouija-mania,” which generated a number of songs and (questionable) literary works. Ouija-mania also generated a certain degree of misery among unstable users. Several absurd and tragic stories from newspapers of the day are read by Mrs. Karswell, and we close with a particularly dramatic story told in a letter preserved in the William Fuld archives. It conceives of the Ouija as a tool of the Devil, something we will explore more in our next episode.
We’re getting into the spirit of the season with a classic tale of witchcraft set in 17th-century Salem Village, Nathaniel Hawthorne’s short story, “Young Goodman Brown.” Written in 1835 for New England Magazine, it later appeared in the 1846 collection, Mosses from an Old Manse, which also includes the excellent supernatural story, “Rappaccini’s Daughter.” Hawthorne regarded “Young Goodman Brown” as his most impactful short story, and it received high praise from his contemporary, Edgar Allan Poe.
Two more Halloween-themed episodes (historical explorations) await you next month.
Agartha, Shambhala, and Hyperborea are all names for a a mythic spiritually and scientifically advanced kingdom, always in some hidden location, sometimes within the earth, a legend which became an obsession of early Soviet spies, a mad soldier of fortune, and a mystical Russian artist during the 1920s.
We begin with a clip from the 1939 German documentary, Secret Tibet, which records the activities of visiting Nazi researchers in that country. While we can’t establish to what extent the expedition focused on Third Reich mythology connecting their Nordic Aryan with South and East Asia cultures, we examine other efforts by the Reich’s department of Ahnenerbe (ancestral heritage) to make such connections. Alongside this, we look at some 19th-century precedents associating an ancient, primal race with both the far north and Vedic culture of the subcontinent. We also examine the classical concept of Thule (a far-north Neverland) appropriated by the pre-Reich Thule Society.
We next look have a brief look at 1871 book by French writer Louis Jacolliot, The Son of God, which introduces the name “Agartha,” (and its many forms) to designate an underground city or land serving as a repository of ancient wisdom. Jacolliot places this land in the East and associates it with a sort of universalized Vedic culture.
It’s Alexandre Saint-Yves’ 1886 book The Mission of India in Europe, that really defines Agartha as its come to be understood, placing it underground, in the East, and probably within the Himalayas. His fascination with the topic probably was inspired by his Sanskrit tutor, a mysterious Afghan, who called himself Hardjji Scharipf, and claimed to be “of the Great Agartthian School.” Scharipf, however, had little to do with the specific content of Saint-Yves’s book, which in part reads like Hollow Earth fiction of our previous episode. Mrs. Karswell reads for us some fantastical passages from his text.
The majority of Saint-Yves’s work, however, is devoted to the ruling principle of this hidden kingdom, something he calls “Synarchy,” (from Greek words for “together” and “rule.” Fearing the West’s descent into anarchy (Synarchy’s opposite) and its inability to receive the “Synarchic radiations” of Agartha, he calls upon the East to unify with Europe and guide the world toward a Synarchic utopia (the titular “Mission of India to Europe”). Saint-Yves is particularly concerned with Britain and Russia’s competition for the lands of Central Asia, an area poised to become the hypothetical capital of a united East and West.
This brings us Russia or the competing Red and White armies of the Russian Civil war fighting in this region.The Polish writer, Ferdynand Ossendowski, who served with the White Guard in this setting documents these conflicts in his 1922 best-seller, Beasts, Men, and Gods. Ossendowski not only mentions encountering the local myth of Shambhala (Tibetan Buddhism’s equivalent of Agartha). but also relates tales of Baron Roman Ungern von Sternberg, a German cavalry officer loosely allied with the Whites, but fighting not so much for the Tsars as for Mongolia’s Bogd Khan, third highest lama of Tibetan Buddhist, whom Ungern imagines rebuilding the empire of Genghis Khan. Ossendowski describes the Baron’s use of Tibetan legends, including that of the King of Shambhala, to promote this cause. He also describes some of the German’s more perversely brutal ways, which earned him the moniker, “the Bloody Baron” which we naturally share.
Baron Ungern von Sternberg, painting by Dimitri Shmarin.
Next we come to a figure who represents a sort of nexus of all we’ve discussed — a Russian occultist and mythographer, Aleksandr Barchenko. We hear a bit about his early life, involving extracurricular ESP experiments, lecturing sailors of the St. Petersburg fleet on Shambhala, and his meeting with the occult-minded chief of the Secret Police, Gleb Bokii, who is attracted by Barchenko’s talk of an ancient body of knowledge that might be mined for new techniques of psychic control, surveillance, or manipulation.
While Barchenko was denied funding he sought for an expedition to locate Shambhala, Bokii sent him to investigate a phenomenon with of possible supernatural import on the far northern Kola Peninsula. There he was study a collective outbreak among the Sámi people of a trance-like state peculiar to Artic regions, known locally as “menerik” and elsewhere as, “the Call of the as North Star.” We hear some details of this bizarre condition and of Barchenko’s alleged discovery of vestiges of ancient Hyperborean culture on the Peninsula. We also hear of his search among the people of the Altai Mountains for legends related to Shambhala.
The last Russian Shambhala-enthusiast discussed is Nicholas Roerich, an artist and writer best known for his paintings of glowing Himalayan landscapes and spiritually charged scenes from Asian and Russian mythology. Along with his wife, Helena, a psychic in communication with Theosophy’s “Hidden Masters,” Roerich hatched a scheme he promoted (unsuccessfully) to Soviet officials, a “Great Plan” for uniting East and West, in which the mythical King of Shambhala (or the Last Buddha, the Maitreya) were to play a key roles. We hear tales of Shambhala collected during Roerich’s travels through the Himalayas and of a physical token allegedly from that kingdom, the Chintamani stone. Details are provided of stone’s mysterious delivery to a Paris hotel where the couple was staying in 1923, its role in developing Roerich’s status among his following, and the not entirely convincing evidence presented in support of the tale.
We end with some audio from the Hollow Earth itself, from a Tibetan cave — so says the Russian YouTube account, along with a collage of sonic anomalies collected under the the title, “The Earth Groans,” and (strangest of all) sounds that seemed to issue from within a Chinese mountain in Guizhou Province in July of 2020.
Portrait of Roerich in a Tibetan Robe by Svyatoslav Roerich
