CONTAINS SPOILERS
If the Creek Don't Rise isn't a "witchy" book, unless you consider the high level of faith it takes to keep going with absolutely nothing. The title sentiment was also expressed by my Grandma as, "If I live . . . ". (Perhaps hearing, "If I live, we'll . . . " as the condition under which we would do things as mundane as making cornmeal mush made me prone to reach for a protection amulet and some lavender salt!)
However, magik is more expressly present in the book in the voice of Birdie Rocas, the neighbor (and protector) of the protagonist, Sadie Blue. Sadie Blue is in an abusive marriage, and, as such, needs a bit of help with details like delivering the baby her husband killed in utero or whipping up some hemlock root poison for . . . those who need it. Birdie Rocas tells us that her last name means crow, and that some folks call her a witch--a good thing for hunting ginseng (apparently because her appearance scares those who would steal her valuable harvest). When Birdie scrys for a dead body and the killer turns up dead himself, one begins to suspect she uses her magik for more than hunting ginseng.
Magik is sprinkled throughout the book as charms, amulets, potions, and folk wisdom. However, Birdie does share her scrying method:
--Fetch shallow bowl the color of blood
--Put on tree stump
--Pour spring water one finger width deep
--Kiss and put on personal amulet (Birdie's is a horn-shaped amulet)
--Make repeated "X" with thumb on forehead until coated with oil from skin
--Rub oil on item belonging to person you seek (handy to have crows to retrieve these for you!)
--Drop item into water
--Watch for answer to form
Although Birdie seems to get her answers, she leaves us with some lingering questions and an observation:
"Why are young girls dumb and men surprised?
"What does evil look like to crows from up in the sky?
"They're brave to play hide-and-seek with the dead."
While by no means a craft "how-to" book, this novel includes a few pages worthy of any book of shadows. It is a respectful window into the misunderstood and sometimes-popular world of granny magik or hoodoo, and deserves to be read.
The dialect in the book is southern Appalachian. It will sound "off" to readers from Kentucky or West Virginia. It does not seem to be intended disrespectfully.
Those of us not apt to find a hag stone shaped like a horn might appreciate a commercially-produced amulet like Birdie's:
(Note: links are designed to make me richer than a moonshiner with a revenuer cousin!)
