Reykjavík Grapevine - maj 2022, Qupperneq 30

Witchcraft and wizardry have been the
subject of fascination for centuries—
just look at the success of a certain
magical franchise written by She Who
Must Not Be Named. But in the past,
the relationship between everyday folk
and the dark arts was less millennials
running around in Hogwarts jumpers,
more townsfolk suffering from mass
hysteria and burning their neighbours.
While locations like Salem in the
US have long been notorious, in recent
years other countries have been sheep-
ishly stepping forward to acknowledge
their pasts. Only last month, Scotland’s
First Minister issued a formal apol-
ogy for the execution of around 2,500
people convicted of witchcraft between
1563 and 1736.
Iceland is not excluded from this
ugly history. But while there are
similarities between what happened
here and the mass witch hunts that
swept across Northern Europe in the
16th-18th centuries, the Icelandic situ-
ation had some strange and notice-
able differences. To learn more about
all things magical, we decided to pay
a visit to the Museum of Icelandic
Sorcery & Witchcraft.
A sleepy seaside town
Hólmavík is a small fishing village
located in the eastern part of the West-
fjords. Although more accessible than
some other towns in the region, in the
midst of the snowiest winter in recent
years getting there is still an endeav-
our. Nevertheless, we were greeted by
glorious sunshine on arrival, belaying
the area’s dark past.
The museum sits on the town’s main
street and is unmissable—painted
black, of course, and due to the weather,
decked with a row of deadly–looking
icicles. Slightly apprehensively, we
headed inside, only to be greeted by a
blast of warm air, the smell of delicious
food, and a cheery hello. Turns out, in
addition to being an informative centre
for learning about Icelandic history,
the museum also operates a cosy
cafe. Somewhat caught off guard, but
massively relieved to not be instantly
murdered by a warlock, we made our
way to the exhibition.
Burned alive
The first exhibit is simply a map of
Iceland, with red dots denoting where
witchcraft trials took place. Just over
200 dots adorn the map, starkly show-
ing the extent of the mis-directed
fear and madness that drove people
to accuse their fellow townspeople of
sorcery.
What sets Iceland apart from most
other countries, however, is the gender
of the individuals accused, and the
method of dealing with the supposed
sorcerers. The vast majority of those
charged, and killed, for witchcraft in
Iceland were men; dark magic was
far less associated with women here.
And while many nations dealt with
witches by drowning them, Icelanders
apparently came to the grim conclu-
sion that the only safe sorcerer was a
burnt sorcerer. At least 21 people were
burned alive for their supposed crimes,
with others being sentenced to banish-
ment, which was almost worse. The
exiled had to live alone in the wilds of
Iceland, and if they attempted to return
or sought help they could be killed on
sight. The waist–deep snow outside
was a bleak reminder of the impossibil-
ity of this situation.
Necropants
By far the most famous exhibit in the
Sorcery & Witchcraft museum, and
perhaps of any museum in Iceland,
are the necropants. They take pride
of place, beautifully lit behind a glass
door, in all their horrific, hairy glory.
Luckily, for those who are unable to
make the visit, the museum provides
detailed instructions on how to create
your own.
Firstly, the sorcerer must make a
pact with a living man to make him into
skin trousers after his death. Apolo-
gies to those of you who’ve already
murdered your unsuspecting victim,
but let this be a lesson to always read
the full instructions before you start a
complex spell. Only once your sinister
skin–graft buddy kicks the bucket can
you finally remove his leg skin, making
sure to avoid holes—other than those
that nature intended. The museum
assures that once you step into your
new pants, they will immediately
‘become one with you’—but unfortu-
nately the work is not yet done. The
last task on the list is to steal a coin
from a poor widow on a Holy day. Pop
that in the handy… purse, let’s say, that
comes pre-installed in your trousers,
and legend says you will never find it
empty again.
Rune-ing a good day out
If other people’s skin isn’t for you, the
Sorcery & Witchcraft museum has
plenty more to offer. Upstairs there
is an extensive collection of Icelandic
runes, including those to inspire love
and to reveal a ghost. The delicate,
spidery markings of the original runes
are nothing like the modern deriva-
tives re-designed to be sold to tourists,
and are fascinating to see in person.
And although most of the information
panels are in Icelandic, there are well-
written guide books in English and a
variety of other languages, making the
exhibits accessible to visitors.
Despite most of the events cata-
logued in the museum having taken
place more than 400 years ago, the
exhibits are a good reminder of the
harm that can be caused by disinforma-
tion and fear. Around the world, people
are still being killed for supposed
witchcraft. At the end of the day, it’s
not sorcery we need to fear, but our
own human nature.
Distance from
Reykjavík:
232 kilometres
Accomodation
provided by:
holmavikhouse.is
Car
provided by:
gocarrental.is
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Hólmavík looking deceptively pretty An ancient spell, or a grocery list or something
Travel
The history of witchcraft in Iceland is
a far cry from Harry Potter
Words: Josie Anne Gaitens Photos: Josie Anne Gaitens & Art Bicnick