Ancient Witches XIV: Apuleius' Apology
In the past, we
have examined literary characters and their role in the evolution of the folkloric
witch. Today, we consider an author whose work expanded the tradition, but also
left him vulnerable to a charge of being a witch himself: Apuleius. Apuleius’ best-known
literary work is his version of the myth of Cupid and Psyche, contained in his
novel Metamorphoses (notably retold by
C. S. Lewis and Joy Davidman as Till We
Have Faces). However, Apuleius’ Apologia
–delivered at his trial for bewitching a North African widow into marrying him—has
also come down to us. It is this unusual document that we will be discussing
today.
Those familiar
with Renaissance witch trials will immediately notice several common threads in
Apuleius’ defense. Witchcraft, as an invisible crime, was notoriously tricky
for prosecutors to handle when it came to gathering evidence. Typically, a
conviction required a confession on the part of the accused (even if forced) as
only circumstantial evidence could be produced. Thus, Apuleius’ defense begins,
oddly enough, with a recipe for tooth powder, a poetry recital, the matter of
his owning a mirror, the question of a boy falling down in his presence, and the
matter of procuring odd fish. Apuleius attempts at almost baffling length to
laugh these points off, but to those convinced of the reality of witchcraft,
they were no laughing matter. Roman witchcraft was thought to be enacted
through incantations combined with potions composed of distasteful substances. Apuleius
even quotes several of our prior authors, including Homer and Virgil, to show
that he understands the distinction between fabricating licit compounds and
witchcraft. By citing Apuleius’ ability to compose, write, and memorize verse,
his experience in compounding pharmaceuticals, and his copious zoological
knowledge, his opponents meant to demonstrate that he possessed the means to
commit witchcraft. Those who are familiar with the Salem Witch Trials should
also be quick to spot the mirror as a means of divination.* The boy falling
down in his presence is meant to serve as an example of odd occurrences linked
to Apuleius’ presence and is also a common form of “evidence” in Renaissance
witch trials. As to the fish—your guess is as good as mine, and Apuleius
appears completely baffled.
After reciting a
few lines of his poetry and giving a lengthy reading from a zoological text in an
attempt at humor, Apuleius makes an odd shift in his defense. He admits that he
practices magic. In Salem, that would have been the end of it: the witch had
himself confessed. However, in Apuleius’ Rome, there are witches and then there
are witches—just as in Renaissance England, John Dee and Sir Francis Walsingham
could practice ritual magic to their hearts’ delight as servants to Queen
Elizabeth I. The reason for this comes from the development of Neo-Platonism.
The Greek philosopher Plato laid out a grand philosophical system that
continues to evolve down to the present day. From the late Roman Empire into
the Enlightenment and even into the early 20th century, some forms
of Platonism accepted High Magic, or magia,
as a legitimate philosophical practice in pursuit of knowledge.** Apuleius’
real defense on this point comes down to: “Why would a philosopher who uses
traditional rituals to converse with gods and powers in the pursuit of
Goodness, Truth, and Beauty stoop to creating love charms to ensnare rich
widows?”
Apuleius goes on
in his defense to assert that he had no motive for the alleged crime and to
expose the sordid motives of his accusers. Nonetheless, he is still oddly
vehement at the end to defend certain unspecified theurgic practices and
mysterious initiations as part of a grand philosophical tradition. It may seem
an odd note, but it is one that resounds unbroken down to the present day: There
are witches, and then there are witches.
*Those
interested in the Salem Witch Trials, or witchcraft in New England more broadly,
should consult: Entertaining Satan by
John Putnam Demos, The Devil in
Massachusetts by Marion L. Starkey, Salem
Possessed by Boyer and Nissenbaum, The
Devil in the Shape of a Woman by Carol F. Karlsen, In the Devil’s Snare by Mary Beth Norton, and Escaping Salem by Richard Godbeer. For the general history of
European witchcraft, see Witchcraft
by Charles Williams. For a more personal take on contemporary witchcraft, see Waking the Witch by Pam Grossman.
Apuleius’ Apologia can be read online
for free at http://classics.mit.edu/Apuleius/apol.1.1.html.
**This can be linked
with forms of Gnosticism. In the 20th century, see the Hermetic
Order of the Golden Dawn and members William Butler Yeats, Arthur Edward Waite,
and Charles Williams. For a modern Catholic Neo-Platonist who firmly rejected magia as a legitimate practice, see J. R.
R. Tolkien. For a more ambivalent attitude from another Christian Neo-Platonist,
see C. S. Lewis.
Nota Bene: This post first appeared on Eidos at Patheos. All rights reserved by the author.
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