Cinderella & Other Fairytale Necromancers

For this page I've collected a few of my favorite fairytales and a few I found fitting for the theme: fairytale necromancy. There are plenty more such stories to be found if you look! (Although I caution you against taking any tale of death, ancestral aid, or supernatural help more generally to be one of necromancy - not everywhere has the necessary historical context to be able to apply this term accurately. Stories and meaning cannot be cleaved from the people who create them.)

I assume you're already familiar with necromancy if you're reading, but just in case you aren't, here we aren't talking about raising an army of skeletons to fight for you, but rather such things as calling up the dead to ask them for advice, to reveal secrets, to divine the future, to aid in sorcerous endeavors, to make agreements more generally, and the like. Winning feuds is but one of many of the motivations for this art.

The clever witch might find fairytales, and especially these sorts, to be of great inspiration in their works.

Cinderella, or, Aschenputtel

One of the most popular fairytales which contains elements relevant to this topic is Cinderella, or really her german cousin-tale Aschenputtel. There are many, many variations on this tale. While the french Cinderella might gain help from a fairy godmother, Aschenputtel's aid comes from her deceased mother. This story's necromantic threads are also ones of love and care unbroken by death, strong enough to lift poor Aschenputtel out of despair and carry her into happiness where her own strength could not be enough.

In familiar fashion, after her mother's death and her father's remarriage, Aschenputtel was subjected to cruelty and injustice at the hands of her stepmother and stepsisters who envied and resented her. Her father was of no help, being totally wrapped around the stepmother's finger, even calling her by her new nickname. She is alone to bear these burdens without hope of escape - or she would be, were it not for her clever mother.

In this first version of the story we look at today, her mother was well-prepared to ensure her daughter's wellbeing after her death, instructing her to plant a tree upon her grave after she died, and shake it in her times of need. This tree planted upon the grave and watered with tears, along with two white pigeons, become the way for her to provide for her daughter after death.

There's no need for foresight to serve as an explanation, but the cruel stepmother is a common character, reflecting the fears of the storytellers that a new spouse would not love and care for children had from previous marriages, and maybe worse than neglecting them, actively persecute them in order to secure the material position of their own children. (Beyond the problem of the stepmother, maybe she knew how much of a pushover her husband was?)

It is thanks to this that Aschenputtel's ending is a happy one - it is because of the intervention of the dead that impossible tasks are made possible, fun is had, love is found, lies are revealed, and escape is possible - and beyond escape, becoming queen. It is her mother's love that saves her, it is this love which prevails over the ill will of living persons, over the material obstacles that prevent her from running away, over the limitations of what she can do all alone.

Silver dresses and gold dresses, silver and gold slippers, beautiful carriages, splendid glittering pearls and precious stones, dancing with a lovestruck prince as the star of a royal ball, the material gifts that Aschenputtel gains are all in service of the more intangible gifts. Freedom from harm, restoration of status and respect, the satisfaction of besting her abusers, elevation both societally and materially, happy moments, reprieve from shame, a loving and kind partner, these are the shared wishes of mother and daughter in Aschenputtel.

These wishes are familiar to any of us who have been powerless in the grip of others - to those who love us, and want the best for us.

At the heart of it, I love this story as an example of necromancy because it shows a side which is rooted in care for one another, the care that ancestors have for their descendants, the care a (good) mother has for her child, the human wish to help the ones we love. It is because of this care that we take action for one another. That this action would be possible after death may not be a very popular belief, but it is at the core of the necromantic heart.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

The second variant upon Aschenputtel that we look at here is a bit different. In this revised version (from the 7th edition of Grimms' Fairy Tales), Cinderella is shown to be much more enterprising with the magical end of things, not needing to be instructed to ask for the birds' gifts, nor to come home before midnight, how to hide her endeavors from her family, and so on. Her knowledge is not explained by instruction as it was before, giving a very different impression!

An important scene explains how the tree came to be, where their father asks each of his daughters what gifts they would like for him to bring home to them. Cinderella asks not for jewels or finery, but for something that seems unusual: the first twig that should brush against his hat on his way home. Here, this twig is from a hazel bush.

This hazel twig, planted upon her mother's grave in the same fashion as the first variant, grows into a beautiful tree. Upon this tree sits a white bird, similar to the two white pigeons from above, which grants Cinderella whatever she wishes for in her prayers at the grave.

Here, too, come impossible tasks. It is not pigeons alone but also turtledoves and "all the birds beneath the sky" which help poor Cinderella pull the lentils from the ashes - but to no use. Her stepmother's dishonesty is not enough to stop Cinderella, no, she is clever and quick to act: as soon as she is alone at home, she heads off to the tree to gain her disguise for the festival (which has replaced the ball).

All other details are similarly changed, placing much more focus upon Cinderella's own agency, rather than her mother's dying wishes and love. Leaving out supernatural guidance while keeping supernatural help gives this Cinderella story a strange and exciting feel to it, a facet which is also suitable for our focus today.

Ambition has its place in necromancy, Cinderella's motivations are well in line with those of her ancestral supporters, and so despite its shift to a portrayal more fitting of the resourceful, enthusiastic, desirous sorcerer, she is far from being demanding or ungrateful.

This version conveys to the clever witch a necessary element that pairs nicely with the love and care of the previous one: daring and pluck.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

Vasilisa the Beautiful

The next tale which agrees with our theme is Vasilisa the Beautiful, another favorite of mine, and one with more grim and grisly elements (Baba Yaga is here maybe an even more frightful figure than the stepmother).

Although it is not explicitly said to be so, that the doll given to Vasilisa by her mother on her death-bed would be her own mother or another ancestor, it is within reason to read the story in this way. It is from this angle that we work today.

Vasilisa's story begins with her mother's death, where on her death-bed she says her goodbyes to her young daughter and gives to her her mother's blessing and a little doll. This doll comes with instructions: keep it always by you, let nobody see it but you, and give it food. The doll is vital throughout the tale, it gives good advice, helps with performing both mundane and impossible tasks, and teaches Vasilisa much wisdom (such as herb-lore) in her mother's place.

In the beginning there is mundane suffering, with Vasilisa tormented by her new stepmother and stepsisters. All the workload of the household is on her shoulders, she is punished for every little thing. She is punished even for things outside of her control, for sparking envy in the hearts of these wicked women - it is because she is such a wonderful girl that they try so hard to drive shame and loathing into her. Everything good about her has become another reason for her persecution, in complete inverse to what is right. Even her ability to mature in meeting milestones expected of herself is cut off, as her stepmother will never let her marry before her own daughters are married. She has been robbed of all that they could possibly take.

"Teach me what I must do in order to bear this life."

The doll, in her mother's place, provides a crucial lifeline during this time - for surely without such an influence upon her, it would be all too easy to fall into despair, to allow her stepmother's narrative to overwrite and crush her own. Its help, advice, and consolation allows her to thrive despite being subjected to such cruelty which would make any child fall apart. Through the work of the doll, a path forwards through the thorns of life is for Vasilisa cleared. Her mother, through the doll, continues to give her a life of merriment, combatting the efforts of the terrible new wife her once-husband had found.

Even as we wish for things to change, it is rare that change comes easy. Often it takes our lives and runs through them as a destructive whirl, throwing everything - not just the things we wish would change - into uncertainty and fear. Our story takes a turn when her father goes away on business, leaving Vasilisa alone with her new "family".

We move from the village to a dense, dark forest - which her stepmother has chosen for their family residence while her father is away. This wood is full of danger, for Baba Yaga lives here as well, and it would be no easy feat to avoid being gobbled up when Vasilisa is sent away time and time again for this and that without the aid of her reliable little doll.

And so it comes that endangering her is not enough, for clearly her stepmother wishes her dead as one night Vasilisa is sent out to get fire from Baba Yaga herself. It is certain to be her doom, becoming her next meal!

Or it would be, if dear Vasilisa were all on her own. Although she still trembles while walking into the dark forest, our girl knows that her doll is skilled and steadfast, she will not be abandoned to Baba Yaga's discerning palate.

Fantastical and gruesome is the hut in which Baba Yaga lives, surrounded by a fence of human bones upon which stakes skulls sit with blazing eyes bright enough to make the meadow as light as though it were day.

It is dreadful, the circumstances here in the bend of this story, where ahead on the path could be waiting something more dreadful than even the torture she endured before. It is only thanks to her dear mother's gift that Vasilisa managed to fulfill the steep requirements set out for her by Baba Yaga to complete each day - for any one person, such a workload would be truly impossible, and the punishment for failure is death.

The doll is her savior in one way, and her mother's blessing in yet another: for with Baba Yaga no one blessed may stay! Thanks to this, she is sent off in a hurry with the fire she was sent out for, in the form of one of those skulls with burning eyes.

No fire would stay lit in their house while Vasilisa was away, all fires would go out the moment it was brought inside - thus the stepmother takes the skull from her hands and brings it into the home... and the skull, as it looks into their eyes with its fiery eyes, singes them right out of their skulls. The wicked stepmother her daughters are burnt until they are nothing but ashes by the fire they sent her out to get, in their plot to have poor Vasilisa killed they had themselves set in motion their own doom. And when everything as burnt away, Vasilisa alone was left alive.

"Then Vasilisa buried the skull in the earth..."

The twist in fate which had terrified her was overcome by the hand of her mother, and made into an opportunity for Vasilisa's life to turn for the better. Dreadful things and wondrous things tend to come from the same dark places, and here is the might and power of loving bonds in the face of peril: one girl's strength could never force life to bend and make way for her, but by the help of the beloved dead, the blow which knocks down a wall is not just destroying one's life as it is but creating an opening for you to squeeze through and start anew, and better. It is by the same designs that Vasilisa gains a kind old woman as a new member of her family, and even marries the Tsar.

Similarly to Aschenputtel, this story is rooted in love and care, the basic compassion that holds peoples together. The facet which I find most interesting today, though, is not only the love but the constant guidance and teaching given to Vasilisa by the doll, in the same fashion which she would be guided and taught if her mother had lived to do so through regular means.

Lack of loving care, lack of a guide to teach one how to be a person in their particular society, lack of security that comes with being well-supported by one's community, these have the power to kill all on their own. Death in this story does not sever the tie to these fundamental needs for little Vasilisa, thanks to the doll, but it is not so common for people to listen to the dead in this way.

In this way, Vasilisa the Beautiful conveys such important pieces as sustaining connections with the dead, with the knowledge and wisdom our communities hold and have held, and feeling a sense of belonging to a greater community than only the living one most near us which may be entirely hostile to one's very life. These are necromantic threads which usually take a backseat in grimoires to such things as treasure-hunting and prophecy, but the dead as part of our own communities can enable us to more fully come into being through the bonds that are formed.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

The Wonderful Birch

Although The Wonderful Birch is considered so very similar to Cinderella as to be only a variation upon it, I feel that it contains so many substantial differences that it is easier to list where they are similar than it is to list where they differ. This tale is particularly rich in symbolism, which for our purposes we will be focusing on moreso than the scenes which by now are familiar.

There is a single daughter had by a husband and wife, the wife is replaced by another, the daughter is persecuted by the new wife and the new daughter, there is a festival held by royalty, there are small seeds to be picked from the ashes, a prince falls head over heels for her and in the end they are wed.

But in this story, the good wife is replaced not in death but thanks to the trickery of a witch, who turns her into a black sheep, turning herself into the image of the true wife and having the sheep killed and made into a soup, which the husband and witch-wife both eat.

The daughter, however, does not partake in this grisly meal - following the instructions of her mother, she takes the bones from the soup and buries them at the edge of the field. From that very spot, upon that grave, a birch tree sprung up immediately.

This cannibalistic meal, and the multiple threats to eat the girl just the same way, can be placed in contrast to the king's feast, a communal meal. Symbiosis vs subjugation. I would also like to tie it in with the multiple mentions of wood-boring beetles in this story which contains so much tree symbolism: despite their truly contributing a great deal to the forests in which they live, in this story they are being portrayed as destructive force, appearing both times in relation to the harmful magic of the witch.

There are three trees of importance to this tale: foremost is the birch-tree that is the girl's mother, secondly the golden hemlock that is the witch's daughter, and finally are the aspens, which do not play a major role but are mentioned by the old widow beside the birch.

It is clear that the birch is the mother, a guardian and carer. We could go further and tie her in with a more general life-giving role, placing ancestors in that foremost position. It may also be that the relationship between birch wood, which burns very well, and fire, may be of especial importance in the hearth scenes. It is fun to turn over in my mind the idea of that warmth turning about the actions of the witch upon the hearth, making things right again.

The golden hemlock is at first confusing, as there is a tree native to north america which is called by this name, here it is not this tree but a supernatural variation upon the poisonous herb (which may grow to eight feet tall, standing head to head with some trees).

Hemlock is a plant associated with witches and death, thanks to its real deadliness, but it is not a very popular plant among witches (at least online) nowadays that I can see. That the witch's daughter would turn herself into a hemlock may be showing her special resentment towards the prince, given its alleged association with the destruction of men's sexual potency. That it would be tied to the river in this story makes sense, as this herb likes to grow near streams.

The aspens are only of minor note, being mentioned most likely because of thequaking and rustling of their leaves alongside the birches being fitting for the old widow's story of only going out to shake branches in order to soothe the child.

Bathing on one side of the tree, drying on another, and dressing on the third in wonderful finery made the girl more beautiful than any other, and upon a beautiful horse with gold and silver hair she rode to the festival.

This detail, of turning round the tree while readying herself, is also relevant to our theme here. Washing away the grime of the world of the living, drying herself hidden behind her mother, and coming out the other side to dress in finery gotten from the grave calls to mind something like a brief motion to and from the underworld, facilitated by her mother.

This transformation, and tied to it the travel between places, also can be placed in contrast to the witch's transformation of her later on in the story: into a reindeer, to replace her with her own daughter as the king's wife. Whereas the girl's mother makes her all the more lovely so that she may take her rightful place among peoples, as a reindeer the girl is not only belonging to another crowd, but also now is a creature which eats the leaves of birch-trees, calling back to the refusal to partake in cannibalism while she was a human.

The reindeer's antlers are shaped very similarly to the branches of trees. It is meaningful that this in particular would be the shape of choice - the reindeer is here a shift away from her mother's wishes for the girl, while being recognizable as still being very much of her own nature, being nurtured by the birch and nurturing in kind.

Of interest too is the symbolism of threes in this tale, three steps around the tree and three times the witch defiles the hearth before the girl makes off to the feast, and also three items which are lost (and stolen, and returned), three items which the witch places upon her daughter, and three shapes which the girl transforms into after her reindeer skin is burnt.

The three items which are lost, stolen, and returned are the ring, circlet, and golden slippers. They are given to the girl by the mother, lost to the prince, stolen by the witch and her daughter, and returned to the girl. Of more importance for now than the items themselves are their number and their transference.

The three things the witch places upon her own daughter are a wood-boring beetle (in place of a foot), a log (in place of an arm), and dirt (in place of an eye). Relating back to the hemlock, and the witch's goals, this act serves much more than just righting the earlier harm done unto her at the feast. She is trying to make the hemlock more like the birch-tree: woody and warm, to disguise the baneful as benefic. So too does her paring and whittling away at her daughter to fit her into the stolen goods remind of preparing an herb for its use, here to do great ill with the stems, the flowers, and the roots all.

Parallel to the witch's daughter, the girl herself transforms into three shapes after losing her reindeer skin: a distaff, a wood-boring beetle, and a spindle.

Two of these relate to spinning, for which there is much to be said in relation to witchcraft in general as well as divination (with the dead) that I will leave to a later date. The distaff holds the wool (or flax, or any fibre to be spun) for spinning in order to keep them untangled, it is made from the wood.

The wood-boring beetle is again the second item/shape, its place being below and within the wood, eating of the tree similarly to the reindeer. The spindle is that which spins fibre into thread, it is also made from the wood, spinning, winding, whorling.

Although none of these are her proper shape, they reveal more of the girl's place within the story as the daughter of the birch, living among people and serving as the intermediary between the birch-tree and its place within the home.

The witch and the true wife are seemingly opposite one another in their roles of destruction and creation, death and life, baneful witchcraft and supportive magic, as are their daughters opposite each other by extension, being hinderer and nurturer of human vitality, specifically revolving around both the prince/king and the son.

In this story these roles are exagerrated to communicate meaning with clarity, but these characters, or rather the roles they inhabit, are two sides of the same coin. All of these are not only of use to but are sometimes necessary for those who wish to do magic - at the very least, an understanding is required.

Altogether, one might almost get the impression of a story which is conveying knowledge of nature and relationships with particular neighbors moreso than a Cinderella story. It is not only for those elements which are familiar with Cinderella that this story has its place in the clever witch's bookmarks, its richness and its clarity of relationships between its symbols are of great interest.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

The Juniper Tree & The Rose-Tree

These next two fairytales, especially the first, are like nightmares - horrible, heartbreaking, staggering and magical. Again we have trees (and birds) in near center-stage.

The Juniper Tree is a story with many layers building upon each other, the most relevant parts all pertaining to the juniper tree the title is from. Life and death go hand in hand, as do food and death in this story. The cannibalism is the most obvious example within of the death-food tie, but the apples are a very significant symbol of this as well.

We begin with a woman who in all her years of happy marriage could not have any children, which she sorely wished for, having a child with the help of the tree - in exchange for her own life. Later this same tree is where her son is buried, and where he comes back to life in the shape of a beautiful bird.

"Oh, if only I had a child as red as blood and as white as snow."

We end with the boy returned from the dead, the evil stepmother killed, and a happy meal at the table with the rest of the happy family.

The juniper tree in the courtyard of the rich family's home is central to this tale. Here is where the wish for the child is made, where the woman comes throughout her pregnancy to linger and delight, where berries are eaten and death in exchange for new life promised, where the woman is buried after her death, where the boy's bones were placed to rest wrapped in Marlinchen's silk scarf, where he is reborn as a beautiful bird in fire, where he dispenses gifts and punishment, and where he is changed back into the shape of a boy, once again alive and well.

Something interesting about juniper berries in relation to this story is that they have been used to induce miscarriages and labor, and can be dangerous to consume by pregnant people as well as some others for the same reason they were considered useful for those purposes.

That the juniper berries would be safe for the mother in this story to consume in pregnancy is not immediately a sign of lack of knowledge on the tellers' end - the mother did, after all, immediately become sorrowful and sick after eating of the berries. It could be that she was not safe, that this is the moment where it became certain she'd have to trade her own life in order to bring her son into the world.

I would consider this moment, of eating her fill of the berries, to be in parallel to the man's eating of the stew made of his own child. It is these berries that, although they should have caused a miscarriage, brought him into being. One could imagine that he is not entirely the fruit of the man and woman but also of the tree, in this way.

The juniper tree is a source of life, and similarly to the wonderful birch tree, it is a link to the dead, a grave, a place where the dead remain active in the living world, a doorway.

It is while peeling an apple to eat that the woman initially cuts her finger, letting her blood fall into the snow beneath the juniper tree. It is easy to imagine her blood as waking the tree.

It is an apple that little Marlinchen asks of her mother, apples that the stepmother keeps in her chest with its heavy sharp lock, apples she offers to her stepson whom she loathes, apples his severed head lay among in the chest, an apple which is placed in his dead hand.

Apples are a favorite in fairytales, and also a favorite of mine. I have long loved them, their star-shaped inner core, their wealth of symbolism, and their taste. Here we might take the apples as being for life itself, youthfulness, immortality, or even love.

The imagery of the stepmother withholding that much longed for parental love, on top of seeking to keep the wealth of inheritance all to her own daughter, only to use the promise of it in order to murder the poor boy paints an even more sorrowful and cruel picture.

After his murder at the hands of his stepmother and the devouring by his father, the boy is transformed at the base of the juniper tree into a beautiful bird with red, green, and gold feathers, and eyes that shone like stars. His song has the power to captivate and compel those who hear it, as well as convey the truth of the atrocities committed.

Something that differentiates the juniper tree from the birch tree is that while the birch of the previous story was the home of a singular ancestor, the juniper tree appears to me to be home to multiple such spirits. There is at least the indwelling spirit which heard the woman's wish and granted it, that of the woman herself after her passing, and temporarily that of the boy.

The gruesomeness of this story is not exactly why I feel it fits our theme here, but it is not out of place either. The terror of it is not unfamiliar to me, and to the cunning necromancer who seeks to enact justice and right wrongs, it can be of great interest to consider especially the fruits and song in this fairytale.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

The Rose-Tree is a shorter english variant upon The Juniper Tree, where the son and daughter are swapped and there is much less gruesome detail as to the terror, also not having the beginning portion (telling of the birth of the child by the first wife, and her immediate death). The color of feathers upon the resurrected bird is also different, here being white instead of red, green, and gold.

The resurrected daughter in the rose-tree, in much the same fashion as the son of the juniper tree, goes to a cobbler, a jeweller, and finally to the millers, to obtain a pair of red shoes for her brother, a gold chain for her father, and a millstone with which to crush her stepmother to death. These gifts are exactly the same between the two variations.

The red shoes for her brother are a gift that shows her love and care for him. The shoes match the color of blood and of apples, after such a horrific nightmare of events I would be sick of the color red.. but I feel that it is here tied to life as much as it is to death.

The gold chain for her father, who unwittingly ate her, falls around his neck and fits perfectly. Jewelry is a perfectly normal gift, but something about the focus upon the father's neck in both tales stands out to me. It is by decapitation that the child dies in both variations, this parallel in details is compelling to me.. the child's death and rebirth brings no bitterness or resentment upon the father although he remarried this evil woman, the final wound made upon the child by that woman is marked equally upon the father - not in blood, but in gold.

It is clarity regarding who repayment for the evil done should fall upon, a signal of benevolence and forgiveness, and what goodness is wished upon the father (although being a rich man he would surely already have plenty such fineries).

The millstone, worn about the bird's neck (where previously it was severed) as if it were light as the jewelry, is used to crush and kill the stepmother. The millstone is used to grind grain into flour, here the child is creating nourishment for the lives of the family out of the evil - mirroring the way she was turned into a meal for her father by this woman, but here it is not said that they actually eat the dead stepmother, rather I feel this is less direct than that.

Justice through exact repayment is a common thread in the stories I have picked out for this page. Life does not work this way by default, through some kind of cosmic justice (at least if you ask me) ensuring that for every tit there is a tat, for every wrong a punishment, and for every right a reward.

But it is possible sometimes to enact it by human will, and you may find in many curses and fairytales such as this that it is the justice of choice. As with the above variation, it can be of interest and inspiration to hold in mind how compelling this form of fairness is, how hearts and hands can be moved to act to right wrongs by telling of what has been done, (even) especially those of the other-and-underworld.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

The Two Caskets

The Two Caskets is the seventh story I've chosen for our purposes today. There is quite a lot we could delve into here as this fairytale is particularly rich and wonderful, but for this page I'll be focusing on a few choice symbols and the central thread I'd like to draw from.

The first focal point is that of textile-crafts - spinning, yarn dyeing, and weaving.

In the beginning of our story, the stepmother gives her daughter and stepdaughter a task: spin, while sat on the edge of the well, and whoever's thread breaks first will be thrown down into it.

It is from the start weighted in favor of her own daughter, having given her fine quality flax, and to her stepdaughter only coarse throw-away bits. When predictably her thread snaps, the poor girl is thrown into the well - with the assumption that it would kill her.

Spinning is a topic I will save for another day, but know that there is so much to be done with this lovely art, that it could be your only means of working magic and divination both and you would want for nothing in effectiveness and breadth of applications.

The second task given to both girls during their respective journeys through the underworld is to change the color of two skeins of yarn by washing them in a river, so that the black becomes white and the white becomes black.

This is a task accomplished through magic, as instructed by sparrows, by plunging the black yarn into the river facing East, and the white yarn into the river facing West.

Rivers and the underworld are a familiar landmark, and though it is doubtful that this river would be any of the specifically named ones from those various mythologies with such rivers, it would serve well to take note of its use here.

Here too the clever witch will note that directions are often of especial importance in working magic, and it is no different with this. I won't tell you what the colors of yarn mean, out of the many meanings one could pull from, only that their change is of more significance than decoration.

After the yarns have been transformed (or not) they are to be woven into a web as soft and as smooth as the robe of a king, despite their being prone to breaking and tangling and confounding the weaver at the loom.

Fate is sometimes thought of as a woven tapestry that is being woven from the threads of our lives and choices, the events that shape the world in turn shaping further events, each choice contained within the previous and informing the next. Weaving, too, is an art that has much use to the witch, here it is explicitly a magical act.

Although these tasks given by the old woman in the underworld are set out as tests, it is easy to imagine that the girl is now weaving the tapestry of her own fate, for her own sake seeking to ensure that it is smooth and struggling with the materials given to her until she has the (otherworldly) help of the kittens. That she would be given this opportunity is no oversight.

Although the stepmother's daughter may accomplish her spinning, having been given an easier start, she is incapable of succeeding in these tests where the force and manipulation of her mother cannot determine the outcome ahead of time.

She cannot change the colors of the yarns, she cannot weave them into a tapestry, she cannot make anything of the materials given to her fairly - save for a tangled mess. One can see how it would be much the same in life otherwise for her.

Textile-crafts in this story are, fittingly, tied to fate. Making it, breaking it, what we are given to make it of, what help we may receive, as our fates are tied to each other's.

In earthly life our girl's fate was rigged from the start to be full of sorrow no matter what she herself would do... But in the underworld, where human hands did not have so much power to twist unfairly, and where help could be found more readily, her strength and goodness of character could shine and make for herself a better future.

The second focus for us to look at here is the well. It is the gateway to the underworld, a would-be tool of murder if this fairytale played by those rules.

(Although, would it really be wrong to say that the girl did die that day, only to come back to life? That the stepmother would kill her own daughter as well in order to satisfy her greed?)

The well is, apart from it being the door to the world of the dead, unremarkable and ordinary.

The third focal point is the old woman who employs the two girls in their respective katabases. The old woman, a farmer's wife, is not given a name at any point.

This story is very similar to, but differs very significantly from, that of Frau Holle... but I do not think that here we have Frau Holle under a disguise, it makes more sense to me to see her as an ancestor, a divinity-unnamed, a Norn or Fate or Matrone. Indeed, she could very well be all three.

The final focal point I'd like to point your attention to is that of the caskets.

The little black casket, picked out from the many beautiful options presented to the girl with the help of the cats, held a vast amount of beautiful gifts for the stepdaughter: crowns, rings, necklaces, all made with beautiful, shining jewels.

The casket which the stepmother's own daughter had chosen was big and red, holding in it scorching flames that consumed the house and everything in it, fire devouring the stepmother and the daughter both, leaving nothing behind of them.

Appearances are deceiving, with these caskets. The difference between the two is obvious, one is unassuming and humble, the other chosen for the expectance of even greater riches for its size and outward splendor. It was with the help of the cats that the girl could see past the external facade, and it was greed that blinded the other two to this.

In this fairytale, the relations between the living and the dead are much the same as they would be between living and living, all things considered. One of the threads I consider central to our purposes today is this, the reminder to tread lightly, gently, not to let power or experience or the special coolness of the art go to your head.

Respect, reciprocity, kindness, caution, diligence, and cleverness, all are valuable, and although that goes without saying, this story can provide much more for the witch beyond the moral lesson.

A map, for one, is held within if you wish to follow it, as well as options to take up for one's works even without similar travels.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

Jack and the Ghosts

Jack and the Ghosts is a shorter story, and the engagement with the dead is similarly very short, taking up only the beginning and leaving the rest of the tale to Jack and his own efforts. For our purposes today, we'll be focusing on the gifts given to Jack by the ghosts in the beginning.

As thanks for helping them settle their dispute in a way agreeable to all, Jack was given three presents by three ghosts: a piece of dough, a needle, and some cloth.

The dough is, of course, magical - capable of multiplying itself, and baking itself into many different things. Cakes, breads, and pies enough to fill an entire bakery, it's easy to imagine the uses for such an item, and hard to go hungry with it in hand. It is with this dough that Jack brings life back into the bakery he comes across, and through that feeds the kingdom.

The needle is similarly capable of doing the work by itself, filling in for a despairing shoemaker and making fine shoes for the Queen, the princes, and the whole rest of the court.

The cloth given by the ghosts, in the same manner as the magical dough appears capable of multiplying itself without running out, creating a dress embroidered with gold for the Queen. The cloth and needle used together are capable of creating fineries enough to fill the entire palace - there is no end to what these gifts are capable of providing for Jack.

It is significant that Jack does not use these gifts solely for his own benefit, but also for the benefit of others. When he comes to the kingdom, it has run out of everything it needs and been decrepit for hundreds of years, only Jack may provide with the ghosts' presents and revitalize this place.

(With how it is described, it is a miracle that anyone has managed to live there at all without starving for all this time.)

He helps but does not take the place of baker, tailor, shoemaker, decorator, or animal-keeper, and though he marries a princess in the end, there is no mention of deliberate use of the gifts to this end on his part. Instead he is honest, generous, and helpful, sharing the bounty he has been given so that many can partake and enjoy.

With the nature of the presents he has been given it is easy to imagine a life of needing for nothing and no-one, shut off from the troubles and lack in the world for having been blessed by the otherworld. But the true value of these gifts is not solely in their material use, they enrich life in a much broader sense - enabling connections and experiences Jack otherwise could never have had.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

Four Eggs a Penny

Four Eggs a Penny is another tale of the grateful dead, short and sweet, following a man named Tom.

Tom was very poor, and very kind, helping out a man who had even less than himself as often as he was able to. He brought eggs to the market to sell when he could find them, and when he had more than one, Tom would give an egg to an old beggar who had nothing, and they would sit and share stories and laughter together.

On a day when Tom had been very lucky to find twenty-four eggs to sell, he thought of the beggar before deciding what he'd buy with the money from them, and left an egg aside for the man the same as always. When off he went to market that day, there was the poor old beggar lying dead in the road outside the ale-house, left there unburied because of his debts.

There would be no sharing in food and laughter that day or any other after it.

With the eggs he had planned to sell, Tom traded for the repayment of the beggar's debt, for halfpennies to put on his eyes for St. Peter, for a coffin, and for his burial. When all was done, Tom had none left for himself to sell or to eat.

When he got home, to his surprise, there was a warm fire made, and on his table was a big loaf of bread, butter to go with it, and twenty-four eggs - exactly how many he had traded for a proper burial for his poor old friend. His kindness had been repaid in full and then some.

Although it is a shorter story, I find it to be another compelling one, much like Aschenputtel the necromantic threads are such because they are that same kindness and care as there is among the living - only here unbroken by death, by poverty, by debt.

Generosity, connection, and compassion are the heart of this tale, and the exchanges between Tom and the beggar are much more than just transactions, or equal repayment. There is true love for one's fellow human beings to be found here.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

Friends in Life and Death

The last story I've picked out for you in accordance with our theme today is a cautionary tale, one where the line between the living and the dead is erased, to the detriment of both.

The young man we follow in this story had sworn an oath to his friend, and after his friend's passing this oath was upheld. The young man's focus was fully, entirely upon his deceased friend - eclipsing his wedding, four hundred years of time, and his own life as well, ending with his death. It could be assumed that they would stay side by side after his demise as well.

Dedication and honesty such as this is usually presented as an admirable and desirable trait/behavior, but here it has swallowed up everything. There is so much time and attention placed upon the underworld that there is no room at all left for living.

Although this story has that sort of sad and abrupt ending, it is here not the fault of the dead that the man's life is cut short, but instead the man's own fault. He was so absorbed in continuing his connection with the deceased that he completely neglected his living relationships, abandoned his wife-to-be at the altar, he left everything behind in order to see such secrets he was not yet meant to know or taste.

There was no malice on the part of his friend, no deceit. Our young man abandoned his life and the world of the living of his own volition.

It can be tempting to seek escape rather than to seek benefit or nurturing, to throw oneself into these pursuits not to help in shaping reality but solely to leave it behind. Shirking all responsibility to the world, to oneself, is no longer dedication, it is not devotion.

For as much as "spirits are not just tools for obtaining your worldly desires" is true, neither does the clever witch allow these pursuits to consume them utterly.

This story may be read for free in full online here.

In parting...

Necromancy, working with the dead, can sometimes (the most fruitful of times?) require the sorcerer to foster close bonds, or at least working connections, with those dead that aid them.

There is often a deep, heavy shame assigned to being needy, being unable to be independent. Nurturing close bonds with spirits, with deities, with the dead, it has much of the same value assigned as asking any living person for aid in times of need.

The way we think of these matters is reflected in the way we speak of these fairytales.

Cinderella in particular is a fairytale where much of the fantastical and magical elements are often set aside in order to debate her victimhood and the legitimacy of her means of escape, no matter if her helper is a fairy godmother or her mother.

Much of the credit for her escape is given over to the prince, for marrying her, and although he plays an important part to be sure, the focus on him is at least not consciously in order to steal her mother's thunder but to call into question Cinderella's strength, and following that, if she cannot achieve escape through her own strength, question her deservedness of this happy ending.

Beyond having the proper respect for the dead, and those spirits otherwise that provide for us in our times of need (and want), the first step - when not taking up the position of domineering sorcerer commanding that thy will be done by the time thou want it done, or humble petitioner of the most gracious and benevolent lord-of-lords - is acceptance that, on whatever level and to whatever degree, what you hope to accomplish you cannot do, or cannot easily do, through solely your own strength and ability. That you want to get some otherworldly help.

If it were that we all got what we deserved solely because we deserved it, the world would surely be a more happy place than it is. If it were that what we deserved was determined by what we were able to accomplish all on our own, the world would be all the more impossibly cruel.

I encourage you to sit with these stories, draw from them what you will, allow them to feed the hungry part of your heart.

There are, as told earlier, plenty more tales such as these if you look. I hope that this has provided inspiration to those seeking it, and maybe entertainment to those not interested in taking a page from Cinderella's book.

Some of these fairytales are especially significant to me, and I've drawn inspiration, hope, and courage from them for many years, even before I started tying them back in-mind to necromancy, before I even began practicing in the first place.

These stories speak to something in the hearts of those who listen, some of them speak to and from that desire to help our loved ones, to seek help through connection and care when we are powerless. It is only that this care comes through the doors of death that separates their necromantic threads from more mundane matters.