On the dark side

From hag-riding to corpse roads to phantom black dogs, Andy Paciorek finds darkness a-plenty in this bewitching array of fortean lore Bob Fischer

Dark Folklore

Mark Norman & Tracey Norman The History Press 2021 Hb, 174pp, £14.99, ISBN 9780750998017

There is certainly darkness a-plenty within the world of folklore; what Chthonic treasures will be found in Dark Folklore? Its five chapters offer a bewitching array of lore with fortean interest.

The first chapter, “The

Old Hag: Folklore and Sleep Paralysis”, provides a very good overview covering the bases of superstition, psychoanalysis and scientific rationale. Presented are numerous entities associated with the hag-riding phenomenon and aspects of sleep disturbance in world folklore, from the Hungarian Liderc to the Arabian Quarinah and the Alien Grays. The authors put forward balanced and insightful consideration of the subject, without judgement. They explain the medical processes of such unsettling experiences but don’t merely dismiss the entities envisioned, rather questioning why a feeling of somnolent physical inertia and laboured breathing (amongst other symptoms) can result in visions of old crones or other strange entities squatting on the sufferers’ chests or dark mysterious figures lingering in the corners of the room. Archetypal consideration is applied here, as is the rich folklore of myriad nocturnal entities that can be found across the world in both developing and more technologically advanced societies.

Chapter two deals with “The Dark Church” and covers widereaching examples of association mostly between the Christian church in Britain and superstition and pagan influence. Discussed are foliate heads and Sheela-na-gig carvings, St Mark’s Eve vigils (whereby observers may see a procession of those destined to die in the following year) and other wondrous delights. Here we wander down corpse roads and meet the priests of Devon who reputedly employed rather than denied folk magic. The magician-priests included the Rev Franke Parker, who had an esoteric library that he was deeply protective of and whom folklore declares had the power to shape-shift. The peculiar Parson Parker was reportedly once found at rest in a bed surrounded by dead toads.

“Folk Ghosts” provide the focus of the third chapter, which considers the distinction that should be made more in haunt studies between ghosts that exist purely in lore and those reported to have been experienced by verifiable witnesses. Many places are said to be haunted by a phantom stagecoach or phantom black dog for instance, but how many have known contemporary witnesses of the particular phenomenon? “Cockstride ghosts”, the spirits of those destined to perform some impossible or potentially eternal penance for an earthly crime, are also given attention. Weaving rope from grains of sand or emptying large pools with a leaking diminutive vessel are examples of such posthumous burdens that may befall wicked souls.

The Normans move on to “Urban Legends” and contemplation of their history, endurance and evolution from the era of Spring-heeled Jack through the Edwardian case of the Cottingley Fairy photographs, to the supposed radio and televisual panics of the broadcasts of War of The Worlds and Ghostwatch to the virtual “fakelore” creations taking on a real-world presence and influence in the digital age such as Slender Man and the Momo Challenge, perfectly showing that folklore is not simply an historical study but a living, developing part of human culture.

In the final chapter, “Dark Tourism and Legend Tripping”, the authors turn tour-guide and lead us to some intriguing and odd international locations; they contemplate why people may be drawn to visit places of grisly repute, to witness rituals alien to their own cultures or even to re-enact certain strange historical happenings. Included here are Aokighara – the notorious “suicide forest” of Japan, the Black Mausoleum of Edinburgh’s Greyfriars cemetery, with reported activity by the Mackenzie poltergeist, and the ghost tours of the Ararat Lunatic Asylum in Australia. Also covered are death rites and rituals such as the Torajan Ma’nene funerary customs in South Sulawesi, Indonesia, and the Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) celebrations in Mexico.

A surprising amount of lore is covered within this relatively slim but charming, attractively presented book, with illustrations by Kathryn Avent and Tiina Lilja. (An old adage dictates that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover but I was beguiled by the frontage of this book as soon as I saw it.) Subjects are given a satisfying amount of considered attention rather than being skimmed over, but other examples are mentioned in passing, whetting the reader’s appetite for further research. The allocation of the five chapters works well, giving the book a tight focus while still covering a lot of ground and providing plenty of scope for possible further volumes in the series. ★★★★

Waiting For You

A Detectorists Zine ed. Cormac Pentecost Temporal Boundary Press 2021/22 Pb, 54pp, £6.75

Quietly flourishing in a shady nook of BBC4 between 2014 and 2017, Mackenzie Crook’s sublime sitcom Detectorists followed the low-octane adventures of the Danebury Metal Detecting Club, a tiny huddle of hobbyists seeking buried treasure in the Essex countryside. Over three series, the show’s own complex strata of themes were slowly uncovered: the intertwining of love and obsession, the mindfulness of all-consuming pastimes, and the relationship between landscape, history and the lingering echoes of “what lies beneath”.

The first issue of this charming zine edited by Folk Horror enthusiast Cormac Pentecost concentrates on these latter aspects. David Colohan’s excellent “Phantom Signals: Voices From the Past in Detectorists” notes the influence of MR James in the show’s subtle dalliances with the uncanny. For both Crook and James, the landscape is protective of its legacy and will punish those who disrespect its secrets. David Petts contributes a splendidly wry paper on the psychogeography of the fictional Danebury, and Rosemary Pardoe reviews a brace of earlier novels by Crook that reveal a burgeoning interest in the otherworldliness of the English countryside.

In Issue Two

Scott Lyall explores the mindfulness of hobbies – including his own passion for Bigfoot-related forteana – while Innes M Keighren writes touchingly of the show as a comforting refuge from anxiety, a “golden summer” encapsulation of a modern-day Merrie England.

With a third edition on the way, Waiting For You is an appropriate tribute to Detectorists: filled with simple pleasures, gleeful diversions and the occasional fleeting spectre.

★★★★