The stigma around magic is age old. But does that mean we need to change the way we write about it in our fantasy stories?

by Alethea Lyons

While magic doesn’t have to be present for a story to be classified as fantasy, it is a frequent hallmark of the genre. But does the word magic mean precisely what we, as fantasy authors, are describing? What are the stigmatizations and nuances of the word in society’s collective psyche?

Some dictionary definitions,¹ specify that magic relates to the “supernatural.” Others² more broadly classify it as “special powers.” Some religions have a blanket ban on magic, believing the only way a human can possess it is through a demonic bargain. Some others see it solely as the purview of religious leaders acting on behalf of their deity (sometimes called theurgy).

These negative associations aren’t a new phenomenon brought about by modern religious conservatism or the overwriting of old folklore by current scientific thinking. They aren’t even purely Renaissance or medieval, although witch hunts during the Tudor reigns and earlier have a prominent place in public knowledge. Even dunking a witch in water has roots potentially as far back as 1800 BCE Babylonia³. For as long as humans have wanted to scapegoat people they considered “different,” magic has been an excuse for murder.

In 200 BCE, there were mass executions of 2–3,000 veneficium in and around Rome⁴. This means that when the ancient Romans invaded Britain around 2,000 years ago, they brought with them an anti-magic attitude and wouldn’t have looked kindly upon any practices in contemporary Britain that resembled magic, even if there were parallels to acceptable practices within Roman culture.

The existence of similar magics in Roman culture suggests a double standard of “our practices are divine and yours are occult” that can be seen across the ancient world. Ancient Rome sanctioned augury from those to whom the gods spoke but viewed foreign or private diviners as suspect. Emperor Tiberius expelled seers from Rome unless they worked for him, following the treasonous plotting of wealthy aristocrat Libo, who delved too far into foreign occult practices and eventually killed himself rather than face trial for accusations of divination, necromancy, and threats against the emperor.⁵

While the Romans eventually left our shores, this hypocrisy of persecution became part of our culture.

In the medieval world, the word magic had demonic connotations. Many of the anti-witch and anti-demon charms and potions of the period would be viewed as magic by a modern time traveler. Even the words charms and potions invoke associations of witchcraft to the modern mind. However, people then believed in protection from herbs hung over their doors and religious icons to ward off evil.⁶ What they did was not seen as magic.

Are we slowly changing thousands of years of history, or do we need new language to describe inherent gifts that cannot be explained by science?

Moving on to the Tudor period, Queen Elizabeth I is well known for her persecution of “witches,” yet she had in her employ John Dee, one of Britain’s most well-known alchemists and diviners, an “intelligencer … seeker of hidden knowledge, philosophical and scientific, as well as a spy.”⁷ Simply put, alchemy offered a promise of wealth that a herbalist in a village could not.

Vilification of magic has frequently been associated with some other sort of persecution or personal gain. Folk accused of witchcraft, or other negative occult associations, are those deemed lesser or troublesome: women, foreigners, people who were likely neurodivergent, followers of other religions, the poor and sick, or those with opposing political views. There is also the ever-present motive of greed in deciding guilt and innocence.

While the people of ancient Britain had their own natural magics, the negative connotations of the ancient powers such as Babylon, Mesopotamia, Assyria, Greece, and Rome, as well as the demonic associations from Abrahamic religions, have colored our modern interpretation of the word magic.

So what does that mean for fantasy authors writing books about magic—especially those of us writing magic and religion?

I have often found people are more accepting of magic if it is in a purely fantastical society. Worlds that bear no resemblance to ours get a pass because they don’t have those ancient cultures or our religions in their history. It may simply be personal experience, but the books that are most stigmatized for showing magic are those set in present-day Earth, or a variant of it. Since the release of my alternate-world witchy book, I have had a few people message me with concerns, even after reading it.

The associated language used also influences how magic is perceived. Generally, society has a kinder view of wizards and magicians, from Merlin to Gandalf, than of witches. Part of this is undoubtedly sexist, although “witches” have been people of any gender whose powers come from a dark source. Conversely, fantasy writers often use “witch” purely as a feminine form of “wizard,” ignoring the demonic implications attached to the word historically.

In Britain, we are fortunate to also have a history of natural magic which falls outside of the purview of this piece. This type of magic, and others, are sometimes differentiated in other or older cultures by using different words, but modern English distills it all into one. Thus, “magic” that is part of the earth, or inherent in humans themselves, is tarred with the demonic brush.

Whatever the reasons, there can be a stigma attached to the word “magic” that is not representative of how the word is used in a lot of modern fantasy. Are we slowly changing thousands of years of history, or do we need new language to describe inherent gifts that cannot be explained by science?

¹Merriam-Webster, Collins, Dictionary.com
²Oxford, Cambridge
³Ronald Hutton: Talk on Western Magical Tradition
⁴Veneficium: relating to poisons and associated with magic potions (Oxford Research Encyclopedias)
⁵HistoryCollection.com
⁶Based on information from the exhibition Magic and Mystery at Barley Hall in York, UK.
⁷The Queen’s Conjuror: The Life and Magic of Dr. Dee by Benjamin Woolley

Alethea Lyons (she/ze) writes various forms of science fiction, fantasy, and speculative fiction (SFF), with a particular love for science-fantasy, dark fantasy, dystopias, and folklore. Many of her works take place at the intersection between technology and magic. She enjoys writing stories with subtle political and philosophical messages, but primarily wants her stories to be great tales with characters readers will love. She also has soft spots for found family, hopeless romances, and non-human characters. Her short stories can be found in a variety of publications.

Alethea lives in Manchester, UK, with her husband, little Sprite, a cacophony of stringed instruments, and more tea than she can drink in a lifetime.

You can find bonus content for The Hiding, along with links to Alethea’s short stories and other works on her website, and connect with her on social media.