Wörterbuch des Aberglaubens (review)

In his foreword, Dieter Harmening, who literally wrote the book on superstition in medieval Europe (Superstitio: Überlieferungs- und theoriegeschichtliche Untersuchungen zur kirchlich-theologischen Aberglaubensliteratur des Mittelalters [Berlin, 1979]), explains why this new, compact “dictionary of superstition” is needed. In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, superstition was a topic mainly explored by folklorists, ethnographers, and historical linguists. They understood superstitious beliefs and practices primarily as the residue of very early cultures, and used superstitions as a point of access to pre-Christian Germanic societies. The mammoth Handwörterbuch des deutschen Aberglaubens, published between 1927 and 1942, is marked by this approach to the topic. Ominously, Harmening also notes the work was marked by conditions in Germany at the time of its publication, when notions of early and “authentic” Germanic culture took on particular political force. Not only have those dark times passed, but scholars now approach superstition in very different ways. They recognize that many European superstitions do not derive from ancient ur-cultures but developed only in the medieval or early modern periods. Rather than using superstitions to access some lost, primeval past, they examine them as important elements of historical (and contemporary) societies.

Nowhere in the foreword does Harmening set out the limits of his dictionary, assumedly understood by his intended German audience. First, although no “deutschen” appears in the title, this Wörterbuch des Aberglaubens is, like its giant predecessor, absolutely Eurocentric and to a large degree Germano-centric. Friedrich Spee and Johann Weyer receive entries, for example, where the Englishman Reginald Scot does not. There are entries on Agrippa, Paracelsus, and Johann Faust, but not on John Dee. Elsewhere in Europe, coverage is spotty. From Italy, Marsilio Ficino and Pico della Mirandola get entries, for example, while Giordano Bruno does not. Girolamo Cardano is treated (by his Latinate name, Hieronymus Cardanus) while Tommaso Campanella is not (nor is D. P. Walker’s classis study of Spiritual and Demonic Magic from Ficino to Campanella listed in the bibliography; also missing is Anthony Grafton’s essential study on Cardano).

The second major limit to this dictionary is that it is rather thoroughly medieval and early modern. There are, of course, entries extending back into classical antiquity that provide a basis for medieval and early modern European superstition, as well as entries that defy any historical periodization, such as on “fire” or “grave” or even “blue” or “red” (although curiously no “black”). But for the most part, entries on people or practices that can be historically fixed come from medieval and early modern Europe. Entries begin to grow thin into the eighteenth century; only a very few come from the nineteenth and none at all from the twentieth, which seems to be a kind of absolute cut-off (Eliphas Lévi merits an entry, but Aleister Crowley does not).

Within these limits, this dictionary provides wide-ranging and informative coverage. Harmening understands superstition to encompass almost any aspect of magic, sorcery, divination, or witchcraft (exclusive of witch trials). Many entries deal directly with magical beliefs or practices (from “Astrologie” to “Zaubersprüche,” although no entry on “Zauberei” itself ), items used in magic, or authorities who wrote about or more often against it. When entry-words are more general—anything from the above mentioned “blue” or “red” to “Bible” or “house,” “Pentacost” or “time”—superstitious elements, associations, or applications are stressed. In any such assemblage of terms, there are bound to be omissions. Among the more curious choices include an entry for Dracula but none for vampires in general. There is also no entry for the vampiric/witchy strix, although there is an entry for lamia (and also for werewolf, for that matter). The goddess Hecate, often associated with magic and witchcraft, receives an entry, but not the far more commonly referenced Diana.

Searching through the extensive bibliography also reveals a few curious absences. Naturally, one finds the principal focus falling on German-language scholarship. Yet there is no reference to works, either in German translation or in the original, by Carlo Ginzburg, and...