by Lionel
A poppet.
The ancient African religions that provided the foundation stones of much that is now associated with the syncretistic mystery religions such as Voodoo and Santeria were undoubtedly in contact with Egyptian beliefs and practices millennia ago.
Sympathetic magic of the kind that employs dolls and poppets was in use more than three thousand years ago, and was actually employed during the plot against Pharaoh Rameses III, who reigned from 1186 BC to 1155 BC.
One of his wives, Tey, was responsible for triggering a harem revolt against him, because she wanted her son, Prince Pentawere, to succeed him. The conspirators included a number of “magicians” who probably relied on poison as well as their sympathetic magic involving the waxen images of Rameses. The conspirators were arrested and most of them were executed — but Rameses died before the trial ended. Had he been poisoned? Or was it the image magic that killed him?
The ancient Greeks also used poppets to practise their version of sympathetic magic. These Greek images were known as kolossoi, and could be made from wood, clay wax, or metal — silver, bronze, and lead were popular choices. Parts of the figurine were often twisted and distorted to incapacitate the person against whom the kolossoi magic was being directed. Kolossoi were often pierced with nails or needles, and it was customary to use thirteen of these. In some cases, animals’ teeth were used to pierce the kolossoi.
The basic idea behind these Greek kolossoi was to bind the opponent rather than to kill him or her. Each of the thirteen nails, needles, or animal fangs was strategically placed to paralyze a limb or to cause blindness or deafness. Sometimes the kolossoi were decapitated and the head was buried away from the rest of the figurine. It was believed that this would completely confuse the opponent and prevent him or her from taking any effective or appropriate action against the “magician.”
On happier occasions, kolossoi were used as love-binding magic. In “The Witch” by Theocritus, written during the third century BC, there is a reference to an enchantress named Simaetha who tries to bring back her errant lover, Delphis, by using the Greek version of sympathetic poppet magic.
Contemporary practitioners of poppet magic who are adherents of the syncretistic mystery religions frequently use fabric as a basic material. These fabrics are selected carefully so that their base colours, patterns, and designs are appropriate for the poppet-maker’s purposes.
Green, gold, or silver base colours with a design suggesting pounds, dollars, or Euros would be ideal for a prosperity spell poppet. Scarlet or crimson would be best for a love spell with a design of stylized lovers’ hearts and roses on the fabric. A hostile poppet spell would be likely to employ black or dark grey cloth and to have crossed swords or axes as a design. The warm red and creative colours of gold, orange, and yellow would be right for a creativity enchantment to help writers, artists, sculptors, and composers of music. Solar designs or patterns involving salamanders would be appropriate too. Red and white fabrics are recommended for poppets involved in protection spells, and their patterns could include castle gateways, turrets, ramparts, and steel fences. Keys and locks are appropriate too, as are sturdy portcullises and raised drawbridges. For a poppet magician who is trying to heal a sick pet, the poppet needs to be made in the shape of the animal, not in human form. The ideal fabric colour would be fawn or brown, and the design would incorporate animals, birds, or scenes from nature. For poppet-makers seeking to enrich their spirituality, blue fabric is recommended, with a design of stars, planets, the moon, and representations of the zodiac.
The poppet is then filled with appropriate herbs and spices and the all-important taglocks linking it to the person it represents. In addition to the lock of hair or nail trimmings, a photograph or the person’s signature is believed to be effective.
Poppet-makers regard it as a very important part of the process to tell the figurine whom it represents, and actually to name that person. It is thought by devotees of the syncretistic mystery religions that this naming and identifying process is central to the poppet’s effectiveness.
The challenging question that arises over the poppets, talismans, and amulets cherished by followers of Santeria and the other syncretistic mystery religions is that those who believe in their efficacy swear by them. Is it remotely possible that they really do provide the protection, healing, or success in love or business that is claimed for them?
Is there a parallel factor here with belief in the ability of seers and prophets to forecast the future accurately? Psychology suggests that human perceptions are not always reliable. The memory can be an arbitrary and selective piece of mental equipment. If nine out of ten prophecies and forecasts come to nothing, those nine are quickly forgotten — if they register at all. If one in ten actually comes to pass, however, that’s the one the prophet’s adherents remember, talk about, exaggerate, and multiply.
If the talisman wearer recovers quickly from a serious accident, wins the love of a hitherto unattainable dream partner, or makes a fortune from a new business venture — these are the things that will be remembered and widely publicized, with all the credit for them being accorded to the talisman or amulet of the particular Loa or Orisha associated with that talisman.
The universe is a strange and mysterious place, and the most advanced twenty-first-century technology is not yet able to assign the precise links binding every cause to every effect. As the famous quotation from J.B.S. Haldane (1892–1964) points out, “The universe is not only stranger than we suppose — it is stranger than we are able to suppose.” What if, amidst all that Haldanean strangeness, there really are connections between wearing amulets and talismans and bringing about certain desired ends and goals? It seems that almost nothing is totally impossible — but some things are far less likely than others. As the millennia roll by, science becomes aware of more and more proven causes and effects. Yet, year by year, month by month, and even day by day, new discoveries are being made, fresh technologies are being developed, new connections between causes and effects are being traced. There may actually be some genuine and effective connection — which scientists prefer to dismiss because it sounds like magic — between wearing a talisman or amulet and bringing about the benign results with which that talisman or amulet is traditionally associated by members of the syncretistic mystery religions.
The power of the mind is grossly underestimated. Thought is a form of energy. Energy and matter are interchangeable under certain circumstances. Theoretically, if its full powers are released and directed, mind ought to be able to accomplish what most people would describe as miracles. Mind may need focal points in order to channel its vast powers. The greatest mental powers appear to be generated at a level either above or below normal, everyday consciousness. Is the real power of a talisman or amulet its ability to act as a focal point for the mind of the wearer who believes in its power? If mind energy is capable of influencing its environment, does it do so by thinking that an Orisha or Loa is working via a talisman or amulet on the believer’s behalf to make the desired things happen? Is it the power of the subject’s own mind that stimulates the immune system to destroy the pathogens causing the believer’s illness?
Does this mind power work within groups of believers? Are many unidirectional thoughts like the numerous tiny strands of hemp in a thick rope? If enough Santerians or Quimbanda devotees think the same healing thoughts, or will the same love and prosperity together, does that group mind power bring things to pass?
Talismans and amulets dedicated to particular Orishas and Loas seem able, on occasion, to create real, external, objective, and desired benign effects. Quite how this happens still remains conjectural.
Chapter 13 SPELLS, INCANTATIONS, AND MAGICAL INGREDIENTS
Enchantments, incantations, spells, and their magical ingredients such as blood, bone, herbs, and spices are an integral part of Voodoo, Obeah, Santeria, and the other syncretistic mystery religions.
Spells have seemingly been part of ancient magic from th
e beginning of time. There are numerous classical and biblical references to them, such as the dramatic “magical” conflict between Moses and Pharaoh’s court magicians in Exodus, Chapter 7. In order to persuade Pharaoh that Yahweh wanted the Israelites set free, Aaron casts down his staff, which becomes a serpent. At Pharaoh’s command, the Egyptian magicians do the same with their rods, which also become serpents. Aaron’s serpent then swallows theirs.
In the adventures of Odysseus (Ulysses) he encounters Circe, the enchantress, whose Greek name Kίρκη (Kirkē) means “falcon.” She lives on the Isle of Aeaea. Circe is no ordinary mortal: she is the daughter of Helios, god of the sun, and Perse, who was one of the oceanids. Circe’s magic relied very much on her vast knowledge of herbs and drugs. She also used a wand to complete the spell that turned Ulysses’ men into pigs.
Mandrake root — often used in spells.
On his way to rescue his men, Ulysses is met by the god Hermes, who tells him to use moly (μῶλυ), a herb with a black root and white blossoms, as a protection against Circe’s magic. Hermes also warns Odysseus that although Circe is irresistibly sexually alluring, she is also treacherous. By following Hermes’ advice, Odysseus survives a year with Circe and then sets off again for Ithaca.
How does a wizard, a witch, a sorcerer, or a hungan set about performing what he or she believes to be magic? And what does such a magician regard as the purpose of such magic? The goals of Pharaoh’s magicians and Circe were clear: they were attempting to use their magical powers to achieve particular objectives. The targets and purposes of contemporary spells may be as varied as the magicians and their clientele, but the fundamental goals have not changed: people use magic as an attempt to achieve some desired end.
There is also a sense in which, while respecting the ancient, traditional ingredients and methodology, every worker of spells is an individual with his or her own refined, creative ideas. The expert who has reached the traditional cordon bleu standards in cookery via one of the international centres of excellence, such as the world-renowned Canadian Cordon Bleu School in Ottawa, will nevertheless have his or her own special, personal perspective on the cuisine that is being prepared. Modern spell casters work along similar lines. While adhering to the time-honoured basic methods of traditional magic, every enchanter will put a distinctive, personal signature on a spell.
Almost every known spell — from hunting spells created millennia before the Christian era to spells aimed at solving the problems of advanced computer technology in the twenty-first century — contains elements of what magicians would regard as sympathy and the law of similars.
There is also a sense in which words are an essential part of many Santerian spells. The etymology of the word spell provides interesting corroboration for this emphasis placed upon the importance of words during magical practices. The Anglo-Saxon term spel means a story or an aphorism. The Icelandic term spjall means a saying or an utterance. The Gothic word spill means a story with a meaning or a fable. The law of similars can be seen here yet again: by using the name of a deity, an Orisha, a Loa, or a jinn, it was believed that the magician could produce the same effects as if the paranormal entity was actually there with the client and the miracle worker.
By adhering to this principle of similarities, a spell caster believes that a symbolic object, when used correctly in terms of its magical potential, can act on the environment. This influence on the environment — including the human inhabitants of the environment — is believed to function effectively simply because it has a sympathetic relationship with the target.
For example, if a blacksmith or farrier has accidentally injured his hand while putting a nail in a horse’s shoe, the spell caster who has been called in to cure his friend the smith will put healing ointment on the farrier’s injured fingers, as well as on the hammer and the nail. The tools that caused the problem of the hand injury are seen as being in a sympathetic relationship with the victim and with the specific injury that they inflicted upon his hand. By putting healing salve on the hammer and nails — as well as on the injured human being — the magician is implying that the tools have somehow been reconciled to their owner and he is, therefore, protected from future injury from them.
According to the magical law of similars, which is understood and practised by Santerian magicians, Voodoo hungans, Obeah workers, and others, there is what might be described as a type of godly essence or divine blueprint that pervades and underpins the whole of the natural universe. According to the law of similars, this celestial pattern hidden throughout the universe is full of clues to the true spiritual nature of animate and inanimate objects. The skilled, experienced, and perceptive Santerian magician believes that he or she can read and interpret these baffling patterns and matrices.
Leaves in the stylized shapes of human hearts often form part of love spells. The colour red can signify blood and can therefore figure in a healing spell to cure a disease of the blood. The colour blue can be used in a spell to heal and reduce varicose veins. Mosses and delicate ferns are employed in spells that reverse hair loss, because they resemble prolific human hair. Bright, transparent jewels and clear, shining glass can be regarded as similar to bright eyes and clear vision, and so may be used as components of spells aimed at helping to restore sight. Seashells, treated with holy oil or holy water, rubbed with appropriate herbs, and then blessed, can be placed against the supplicant’s ear as part of a spell to bring news from distant places — including the spirit world.
This law of similars is sometimes applied in areas outside magic in its generally understood sense. Salvador Dali (1904–1989) had all the outstanding intellectual power, talent, and charismatic self-confidence to have been a noteworthy priest-magician had he been a believer in Santeria, Voodoo, Obeah, or one of the other syncretistic mystery religions. He knew the law of similars very well, and he understood its powers over an audience. While delivering one of his lectures aimed at exploring the deep theological and philosophical issues that intrigued his amazing mind, Dali dressed up in an old-fashioned deep-sea diving suit. Those of his entranced audience who understood the law of similars saw the point immediately: depth of water similarized depth of thought.
One of Dali’s many superb but challenging canvases is entitled Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a Pomegranate a Second Before Awakening. It was painted in 1944, when the artist was forty, and shows a beautiful sleeping girl, whom Dali identifies as Gaia. There are two pomegranates in the painting — a very large one and a normal-sized one. From the large one emerges a fish and from this fish emerge two tigers that seem to be springing towards the exquisite sleeping Gaia. There is also a rifle with a fixed bayonet in the picture. It is descending from the sky. The bayonet is pressing into Gaia’s arm — like the sting of an insect — and waking her. (The Second World War was coming towards its end when Dali created this work.) The picture also contains a strange elephant-like creature on enormously long, telescopic legs.
Over the years, various art experts have attempted to explain the symbolism in this canvas as Dali’s surrealist attempt to interpret the theory of evolution. He has almost certainly been influenced here by Freud’s ideas about the subconscious mind. Dali seems to be working through a series of semi-Freudian ideas about dreams in a dreamscape. The power in the picture is largely derived from its near-magical qualities, which proceed along the lines of the law of similars. The mystical Gaiagoddess’s beautiful form, for example, is shown as similar to an exquisitely attractive human girl. The audience is instantly drawn to her. This very positive symbol stimulates the viewer to feel a similar attraction to the Earth itself and to Nature personified in the biosphere. The huge fish shows life emerging from the sea. The tigers are dangerous predators. The bayonet touching Gaia’s arm suggests that war and violence are a threat to all life on the planet. It wakes her from the peace of sleep and pleasant dream images into a hazardous reality. The bayonet symbol — like the sting of the bee circling the pomegranate — is simi
lar to the suddenness with which life can change from peace to war: from pleasantness and stability to horrendous suffering and chaos.
Dali’s other famous symbols — perhaps the ones for which he is best known — are the soft, drooping, and melting watches. They say so much about the mystery of time as Dali conceived it. The plasticity and flexibility of Dali’s watch images follow the magicians’ law of similars. The surrealistic image of the unreal watch is Dali’s method of conveying his message about the weird and incomprehensible nature of time.
Another general category of magic, well known among Santerians and followers of the other syncretistic mystery religions, includes the ancient fire spells. These go back to extremely early times. More than one Orisha and Loa is associated with fire, but Shango is one of the best known in this field. In Haiti, Ogun is revered as a fire Loa.
The ancient Greeks told in their myths and legends how Prometheus brought fire to earth and was punished for it by the other gods.
Indigenous American myths and legends include an intriguing story of how the coyote stole fire from the powerful and mysterious Fire Beings and brought it back to be shared by men and all who needed it for warmth in winter.
Learning how to create and use fire was one of the most important turning points in ancient history, ranking alongside the domestication of animals and the discovery of the wheel.
Fire spells like these are very much part of the priest-magician’s stock-in-trade today. They can be extremely simple: all that the fire enchanter needs to begin work is a fireproof container such as a ceramic bowl or a metal bucket filled with sand as an extra precaution. Fire spells are normally performed outside, so that the smoke can rise to the realm of the Orishas, Loas, and spirits of the departed. However, fire spells on a sensibly small scale can also be performed indoors, near an open window, so that the smoke is free to rise through it. The smoke is also understood to be carrying the magician’s intent as well his or her prayers and supplications. The choice of twigs from different trees, bushes, and shrubs is important. Practising fire-magicians know which twigs and dried leaves are appropriate for each particular spell. Favourite fuels for different spells on different occasions and with different objectives can include applewood, rosewood, pine needles, pine cones, lavender, bay leaves, and eucalyptus.