Dear Readers,
Summer came and went, and you heard nothing from us. We were too dazed with sunshine and lake-soaked to settle down indoors and look at our laptops. But Fall is here, and with it, our favorite Holiday: All Hallows Eve. And so we hunkered down in our rooms, keeping out the chill and letting in wandering spirits. And now we have this issue for you, devoted to everything uncanny, everything out of place, unusual, odd. An issue for portals to other realms and times when you’re not yourself. But first, from Emily Jewel Mundy, a brief History of Halloween Hello, readers. And welcome to the third issue of the Odds/Ends Archive—brought to You, and you, and you on this hallowed day. One where the roots’ wrists twist and swallow back the leaves. One where the graveyards’ guts grumble unrelentingly. One for the slitting of the silky, milky barrier between our realm and… well, theirs. This thirty-first day of October seems to know its mysterious wealth better than some of us know ourselves. Each year, we barely scratch the surface of its howling, harrowing guise. We vanish backward some 2,000 years and reappear at the ancient festival of Samhain, or “summer’s end.” For the Celtic societies (sprawling about modern Ireland, the United Kingdom, and Northern France), welcoming winter was an imperative process, as the cold and dark season brought chilling changes to a people who survived primarily on crops grown and animals raised. A dusk of dwindling daylight and uncertain survival conditions, this time of year became abruptly associated with human death. The Druids (elite, or—revered, priestly members of Celtic society) believed the spirits of those who had died the previous year could crawl out from their resting place and back into our realm to roam the earth on the night of Samhain. Celebrating with a roaring fire (in hopes of encouraging the dimming sun not to vanish entirely), villages danced and yowled, a-whirl in front of the flames with the wish to keep descending evil spirits at bay. Doors, though, were propped forcefully agape to vacant houses, welcoming kind and kindred spirits inside—one night of warmth, in exchange for blessing. On this night, they adorned themselves with carved animal heads and dried skins to conceal their human forms from curious spirits. They burned crops and sacrificed sacred animals. They attempted fortune telling, future predictions, and spells. All this superstition, enacted for the sole purpose of avoiding possession, curse, and winter’s misfortune. By 43 A.D., the Roman Empire had conquered the vastness of the Celtic territory, and over the course of four hundred years, two Roman festivals were irreversibly melded with Samhain: Feralia (a Roman festival commemoration of the passing of the dead) and the day of Pomona (celebrating the Roman goddess of fruit and trees—apples, specifically). Christianity’s thumb spread and kneaded itself into Roman society when the Great Invisible Clock struck 1000 A.D., and the Catholic Church probed the culture’s early expressions of Autumn celebration for modification, sneakily stirring saints into the festive mix. Alholowmesse (Middle English for “All Saints’ Day”) punctuated the traditional night of Samhain in the Celtic religion, All Hallows Eve. Halloween came crawling to the United States with the flood of European immigrants (particularly those fleeing from the Irish potato famine). Unlike most morphed American traditions, neither the rigid Protestant beliefs in New England nor the Americanizing of Halloween in the latter nineteenth century could stifle this holiday’s ancient allure. Zam. We’re present day. Our culture certainly lacks a seriousness in revering this holiday, but truly, does not celebrate all that differently. There you have it, readers. As you roam at the height of this mystical season, take note of Halloween’s holy, uncanny, mysterious self-awareness. Listen to the soil swallow the leaves. Don’t you hear the graveyard churning? --- Thanks to a few of our favorite ghouls, we’ve got some wonderful art about just these feelings. We’ve got spooks masquerading as humans, and humans hiding in spooks. We’ve got all kinds of escapism — escape to strange lands, and from the even stranger present. What’s more horrifying than the here and now? So escape with us. There’s a reason we love ghost stories. Whether you’re feeling exposed or unseen, alone or crowded, terrified or terrifying, we’ve got something for you today. Love, E, L, & M
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