URI:
       # 2026-05-20 - Lolly Willowes by Sylvia Townsend Warner
       
       I found Lolly Willowes on a list of early feminist books and added it
       to my to-read list.  Later i saw articles about it, and bumped it to
       the top of the list.  The article text is below [A] & [B].  Beware,
       there be spoilers.
       
       The book is a satire, and indeed i found it humorous.  It made me
       laugh more than once.  My only complaint is that it is so framed in
       church terminology, but then, so was English society at that time.
       
       I enjoyed this book so much, i plan to put it on my to-read-again
       list, which is, comparatively, a very short list.  I also plan to
       read other books by Sylvia Townsend Warner.
       
       Laura Willowes was a somewhat neglected young girl who spent a lot of
       time alone.  She became eccentric and introverted.  She liked her own
       company and disliked balls and other group activities.  She liked
       books, gardening, and herbal lore.  Her father owned a professional
       brewery and she picked up an interest in brewing.  Another of her
       character traits was that she was extremely dutiful, even against her
       own best interests.
       
       One passage refers to `femme sole` and `femme covert` and
       "all that rot".  This led me down an interesting rabbit hole.  If i
       were subject to coverture [3], i might wish to become a witch too.
       
       At the age of 47, Laura Willowes abruptly decided to sluff off her
       dutiful daily routine.  I loved the description of her
       decision-making process, wildly following the most tenuous but
       legitimate connections.  I also enjoyed how she whole-heartedly
       immersed herself in nature, taking it all in and relishing the
       experience.
       
       I read in one book that some witches spent time naked and alone in
       nature to absorb spiritual power.  Basically an ancient form of
       "forest bathing."  In the first story in Myths of the Modocs [4], the
       Old Man (God) instructs his son to perform rigorous swimming rituals
       in remote and high altitude pools for the same purpose, and to avoid
       human society afterwards to prolong the results.  It stands to reason
       that these swimming rituals would have been done naked and alone.
       This Modoc myth existed outside of church belief systems, and
       probably pre-dated them too.  To frame it in terms of Satanism would
       be a grave error, because that would be untrue, or in other words,
       a lie.
       
       * * *
       
       [A]
       Your 2nd book recommendation is Sylvia Townsend Warner's
       Lolly Willowes; or, The Loving Huntsman, a novel first published in
       1926.
       
       It was such fun to re-read this after a period of years. It's a
       so-called feminist classic, a slim little book.
       
       The first 2/3rds are quite light, almost boring. I think
       intentionally. Then, 2/3rds in, there's this very dramatic shift.
       
       It's about this woman, Laura Willowes, who is a spinster. After her
       mother dies, she lives with her father and brother and is gradually
       boxed in as a kind of unpaid servant to the family. There's no
       opportunity to escape or have a life of her own. The book is
       exploring how patriarchal society can diminish women's lives, even
       ostensibly in supportive and loving ways.
       
       Lolly, as she's known, has become very bonded to the natural world
       and the village she is living in. Then her nephew comes to live with
       her. Again, this is very much an imposition, she doesn't want him
       there. Then this kitten turns up and scratches her.
       
       Lolly immediately understands that this kitten scratch, which causes
       her to bleed, is a pact with the devil. She understands that,
       tacitly, she has known this was going to come, has in some ways
       desired it. And so she commits to becoming a witch. All of a sudden,
       she has a new life before her: the life of a witch, although she is
       fully aware, that she's going to pay the price for that. She's not
       sure what, but there must be one.
       
       It's all told in this wonderfully witty prose. In some ways it's a
       satire, in other ways, it's a very, very serious book. I think it's
       actually very trenchant in the way it's describing how domesticity
       traps so many women, and how few options there are to escape that.
       
       From:
       [1] Lolly Willows book recommendation
       
       * * *
       
       [B]
       "That's Why We Become Witches": Sylvia Townsend Warner's
       Lolly Willowes (1926)
       
       When Laura Willowes' father dies, she goes to live in London with her
       older brother and his family. She is 28, under pressure to find a
       husband. But Laura shuns the local tea parties and genial balls, for
       there is never "an opportunity of mentioning anything that she had
       learnt from Locke on the Understanding or Glanvil on Witches." And
       besides, she has the unfortunate habit of making rather odd remarks
       at dinner parties, such as when she tells Mr. Arbuthnot, apropos of
       very little: "If you are a were-wolf, and very likely you may be, for
       lots of people are without knowing, February, of all months, is the
       month when you are most likely to go out on a dark windy night and
       worry sheep." It's this very remark, in fact, that convinces Laura's
       wards to cease and desist from any attempts to marry her off.
       
       And so, Laura becomes "Aunt Lolly", a caretaker for the younger
       children, accompanying them on seaside holidays, even though she'd
       rather "go by herself for long walks inland and find strange herbs".
       She is prone to seasonal fugue, a "recurrent autumnal fever", and
       daydreams of dark woods. Days become years, years become decades; the
       spinster bides her time. One day, shopping for chrysanthemums on
       Moscow Road, Lolly sniffs a bouquet of beech sprays. "They smelt of
       woods, of dark rustling woods like the wood to whose edge she came so
       often in the country of her autumn imagination." She enquires after
       their origin. "From near Chenies, ma'am, in Buckinghamshire." That
       evening, at dinner, she announces a change of course to her extended
       family, whose mouths gape in bafflement: "Great Mop is a village in
       the Chilterns, and I am going to live there, and perhaps keep a
       donkey."
       
       In Great Mop, "she lived in perfect idleness and contentment, growing
       each day more freckled and more rooted in peace", with little company
       but that of her landlady, a Mrs. Leak. Until, that is, her nephew,
       Titus--now a churlish aspiring writer, fond of beer and
       raspberries--comes to mooch off Aunt Lolly, forcing her back into the
       domestic servitude she had so radically escaped. One evening, in
       anguish, she stumbles toward "darkening trees that waited there so
       stilly" and into the woods of which she had dreamed her entire life.
       And suddenly the heretofore social novel metamorphoses into something
       much more strange: "She, Laura Willowes, in England, in the year
       1922, had entered into a compact with the Devil. The compact was
       made, and affirmed, and sealed with the round red seal of her blood."
       
       She is not alone in her compact: Mrs. Leak, it turns out, is also a
       witch--as are many other women in Great Mop. Soon after her pledge to
       Satan, Lolly attends the Witches' Sabbath, a dark inversion of the
       balls that she had always eschewed. She meets Emily, a "pasty-faced
       and anaemic young slattern", and the women interlock their writhing
       bodies. "They whirled faster and faster, fused together like two suns
       that whirl and blaze in a single destruction." Satan arrives at the
       sabbath in the guise of a loving huntsman; he looks like "a
       Chinaman", with "the face of a very young girl". With his serpent's
       tongue, he licks Lolly's right cheek: "How are you enjoying your
       first Sabbath, Miss Willowes?"
       
       Misfortune begins to continually befall Titus. His milk constantly
       curdles; a hairdresser butchers his boyish locks; he falls face-first
       into a wasps' nest in the woods. Finally, he becomes engaged to a
       woman named Pandora (bodes well) and moves back to London; and
       finally, Lolly is truly alone with the "satisfied but profoundly
       indifferent ownership" of her one true love: the Devil. The novel
       ends with a meditation on all the witchy women of Europe, who have
       opted out of the snares of patriarchy.
       
       > When I think of witches, I seem to see all over England, all over
       > Europe, women living and growing old, as common as blackberries,
       > and as unregarded, I see them, wives and sisters of respectable
       > men, chapel members, and blacksmiths, and small farmers, and
       > Puritans... Well, there they were, there they are, child-rearing,
       > house-keeping, hanging washed dishcloths on currant bushes; and for
       > diversion each other's silly conversation, and listening to men
       > talking together in the way that men talk and women listen...
       > Nothing for them except subjection and plaiting their hair...
       > That's why we become witches: to show our scorn of pretending
       > life's a safe business, to satisfy our passion for adventure...
       > It's to escape all that--to have a life of one's own, not an
       > existence doled out to you by others.
       
       Sylvia Townsend Warner (1893-1978) wrote Lolly Willowes, her debut
       novel, shortly before meeting her life partner, the poet
       Valentine Ackland (née Mary Kathleen Macrory). At first she was
       self-conscious in the presence of Ackland--young, poised and
       beautiful, and I was none of these things--but Warner invited her to
       stay in a spare room at Miss Green, the worker's cottage that Warner
       had purchased in East Chaldon in 1929. They would live together for
       38 years, and catch the attention of MI5 for their communist
       activities. When Virginia Woolf once asked Warner, at a party in
       Bloomsbury, how she knew so much about witches, the author of Lolly
       Willowes replied matter-of-factly: "Because I am one."
       
       From:
       [2] That's Why We Become Witches
       
       * * *
       
       author: Warner, Sylvia Townsend, 1893-1978
  TEXT detail: gopher://gopherpedia.com/0/Lolly_Willowes
  HTML source: ftp://ftp.mirrorservice.org/sites/ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/7/2/2/2/72223/
       tags:   ebook,fantasy,fiction,gender
       title:  Lolly Willowes
       
       # Footnotes
       
  HTML [1] Lolly Willowes book recommendation
       
  HTML [2] That's Why We Become Witches
       
  TEXT [3] Coverture
       
  HTML [4] Myths of the Modocs
       
       # Tags
       
   DIR ebook
   DIR fantasy
   DIR fiction
   DIR gender