Odd. Occult. Outstanding.

The magic of a good story about witches lies in determining the power dynamics at play. Since they have been historically maligned, misunderstood, and mistreated, engaging in hobbies that lie ever-so-slighty outside masculine influence has been a way for women to create agency in their own lives. This has been especially true for unmarried and childless people, no matter their station in society. Alas, male institutions have usually responded with misogynistic violence. If they can’t control it, then they must destroy it.

Which is exactly the tale that Olga Ravn tells throughout The Wax Child. Set in the 17^th century in what is now Denmark, we follow a woman named Christenze Kruckow and her circle of friends. Narrated through the eyes of the titular wax child, a literal waxen homunculus carried around by different characters, the book chronicles the collective’s pursuit of a life outside of their everyday chores. However, tragedy looms when a man peeks into their activities and reports them to the church and the king.

Blending mythology and magical realism with immaculate skill, Ravn weaves a tale of women relying on each other for support only to be accused of being in a coven hell-bent on corrupting society. Sapphic energy flows throughout the conversations between Kruckow and her compatriots but so does intense camaraderie in the face of the patriarchy. They are accused of being witches simply because the behavior of their group doesn’t meet with societal expectations – ultimately including someone betraying the club and her friendships because she couldn’t disobey her preacher husband.

Published by New Directions and translated by Martin Aitken, this powerful metaphor is also a crackling story that delivers the goods.