Daydreams, Witches and the Power of Reading

By Tara O’Malley

Photography by Tara O’Malley

The first time I considered going to Edinburgh was in lockdown. We all had different ways of coping with the fact that we were house-bound and stuck for an undetermined amount of time, and mine was to daydream about travelling. I suppose it’s fitting then that I was making lists of places I wanted to visit in between online lectures and assignments. I’m sure I still have the notebook somewhere, thrown in a wardrobe and forgotten about when the restrictions lifted, and we went about as if the world had returned to normal. I went back to in-person classes and finished my undergraduate degree. I applied for and started my masters. Time went on.

And yet the thought of getting away somewhere lingered in the back of my mind, as all good dreams are wont to do.  While I was editing essays and sitting exams, I was thinking about what I would do once I was free of university.  I knew I would be finished with education after this course was done.  I daydreamed of flying off somewhere when I should have been drafting my thesis.  I priced flights in my study breaks.  I discussed the logistics of it all with one of my closest friends.  And then, suddenly, there was one month left in my thesis, and I had organised a full trip with that same friend to Scotland’s capital.

We booked flights and a hotel room on Princes Street.  The hotel room in particular was an expense that we could only afford once and decided to splash out on – it was a celebration, after all, and it was hard to lament the price once we saw the view from our hotel room.  Within a week of me submitting my final paper for my MA, the two of us were sitting under a tree in the middle of Princes Street Gardens, Edinburgh Castle looming above us.  It was a fantasy come true, heightened by the detachment that comes from pleasant surprise at your current situation.  It was like floating on air.

The fact that we were finally in the city didn’t fully sink in until we were walking the grounds of the castle a few days later.  Though its immediate surroundings were distinctly modern, especially with the host of machinery outside deconstructing the concert seating, the castle itself was just as old and majestic as I had expected.  It’s a fantastic homage to the rich history of Edinburgh, housing several museums as well as the castle’s own displays and features.  It was probably one of my favourite parts of the trip.

It was also one of the factors that led me to wanting to read a book set in Edinburgh when my friend suggested that we do a buddy read.  Our final day in the city was to be cut short because of our flight home, so we had decided that it would be best spent reading a book in the park instead of trying to squeeze in more touristy outings.  Ironic that such a decision was made in the middle of Topping & Co. Bookshop, while I was holding a copy of the novella we would end up reading: Hex by Jenni Fagan.

I don’t remember exactly when I heard about this book.  I do remember seeing it recommended by a Booktuber at some point, and I had quietly made the decision that it would be one of the books I picked up in the near future.  I didn’t know much about it, other than the fact that it was about witchcraft, was based on a true story and that the writer was a poet by trade.  These factors were enough to intrigue me, so I decided I would not look into it any further until I had the book in my hands.  What I would learn about the story as I read it, and what I would discover in my research afterward, was not quite what I had been expecting.

Hex is indeed based on a true story.  This was the largest factor in the novella’s conception.  Its publisher, Polygon, commissioned a series of books that would reclaim landmark moments in Scottish history and present them through fiction to a modern audience.  Four have been published so far, the other three being about Mary Queen of Scots, Bonnie Prince Charlie and St Columba respectively.  Hex is concerned with one of several victims of the North Berwick witch trials in Scotland, Geillis Duncan.  Geillis was a servant of David Seton, a man tasked with finding witches in Scotland who were trying to flee into England.  Geillis herself was accused of witchcraft and was sentenced to death.

Fagan crafts a story in which a witch from the modern day, Iris, travels back in time to be with Geillis on her final night.  They speak through the night and Geillis discloses the harsh treatment she has endured since her arrest, both from agents of the law and men of the clergy.  It was difficult to read at points given the events Geillis describes, but it was cathartic for the same reasons.  I never tire of reading books that provide a cleansing experience for the reader, especially those that use the exploration of relatable themes to do so.  The unfairness of Geillis’ situation, of how her status as a maid and as a woman stripped her of the little power she had before she was taken in, is not lost on any reader.  It takes jabs at the treatment of women in society that are still relevant for the modern woman.  It is angry, and brutal, and surprisingly powerful for such a short book.  Such is the power of the poet, I would argue.

The witch trials are regarded as one of the worst periods in Scotland’s history.  They were spearheaded by James IV (who was also James I of England), who was convinced that witches had caused storms on his voyage home from a trip in Denmark, storms which delayed his laying on Scottish shores.  Records state that it was Geillis’ confession to practicing witchcraft (a falsified one that guards obtained by unspeakable means) that linked the witches to the storms and gave legitimacy to the trials.  They lasted for about two years, during which over 70 people were accused of witchcraft.  The Scottish government did not issue an apology for these or any other witch trials that occurred in Scotland until 2022, the same year Hex was published.

I suppose the surprising thing about this is I would not have known about any of this history without my reading of Hex.  I had not gone to any museums which spoke of this part of the city’s history.  I had no inkling of any witch trials taking place in Scotland, as the only things I saw that were in that realm were associated with Harry Potter.  Reading Hex subsequently changed the way I viewed the city.  I had walked along Castlehill, where the gallows had been set up.  I had seen many of the areas Geillis described seeing or walking along in the story.  It is a naïve thought to assume that one would feel the darkness that once lingered on a street or a building after all these years, and yet it surprised me that I hadn’t an inkling that something so horrible had happened there.

This is not to say that what I learned through my reading of this book tainted or ruined the way that I viewed Edinburgh.  If anything, it made me feel a deeper understanding for the history of the city, and an appreciation that those working in the book industry felt a need to commemorate this dark period.  It reminded me that history is all around, whether it is positive or negative, and while it is never healthy to fixate on these histories, it is important to remember them.  It also underlined how important literature can be, and how reading something in the place that it is set can heighten your engagement with it.  If you ever get the opportunity to read a book about the place you live in or are visiting, do it.  It is a worthwhile experience.

I left Edinburgh feeling like I was leaving my second home behind me.  I do hope I will get the chance to return there in the near future.  Maybe then I will look for more signs of its histories, learn more about what has happened in the many years since it was first founded.  God knows there is an awful lot left for me to uncover.