Occult Book Reviews: The Crooked Path
[I'm sharing some of my old reviews from Quora because I will refer back to them in the new ones. This one is from 2023]
The next big field of magic on my list to study is folk magic. I realize I don’t know enough about folk magic. I’ve gotten it through the filter of Wicca, or through the PGM, but I don’t feel like I’ve absorbed much folk magic that I can actually… y’know… use. So much of folk magic seems impractical to me, utilizing ingredients I don’t have access to or being too Abrahamic for my taste. I haven’t done a lot of spellwork (in comparison to theurgy and the like), and most of what I have done is an awkward form of sigil magic. This is a shame, because spellwork was the reason I became interested in occultism in the first place! I stopped calling myself a witch because I didn’t do enough practical “low” magic for it to feel right, and it’s about time I learned it. I’m finally cycling back around to witchcraft, and this time I know what to search for. So, I’m starting off with The Crooked Path by Kelden, which is an introduction to Traditional Witchcraft. Traditional Witchcraft, at least how Kelden presents it, is mainly based in the British tradition of cunning folk. It’s spiritual, but also practical — very firmly rooted in the pragmatic application of magic. It’s hedge witchery. Kelden explains in the introduction how he was originally taken in by Wicca, but ended up forgoing it for the older and more irregular practice of Traditional Witchcraft. I have no idea if this will end up being my path, but it seems like a decent place to start.
Up until now, I’ve considered Traditional Witchcraft to be basically Wicca with the serial numbers filed off; I assumed it’s all the same sort of stuff, and certainly the same aesthetic, but without the doctrines and rituals that are specific to the religion of Wicca. This is not accurate. Though Traditional Witchcraft owes a lot to Wicca and related movements from the twentieth century, it owes just as much to folklore. I’m intrigued by the emphasis on developing a working practice out of folklore. I like that Kelden draws a distinction between drawing from historical sources, and drawing from folklore. Concepts like the Witches’ Sabbath, flying ointments, and familiar spirits are not necessarily grounded in any sort of historical tradition (especially if they come from confessions under torture), but knowing that, modern witches can still use these ideas to inform their practice.
Kelden associates three specific practices with Traditional Witchcraft: folk magic, hedge-crossing, and reverence for nature. This means that Traditional Witches perform practical magic, travel to the Otherworld to work with spirits, and work directly with the natural world. Kelden provides a brief but nuanced take on the role of religion (or lack thereof) in Traditional Witchcraft — not all witches are pagan, not all witches are theists, and many traditional spells are Christian or syncretic.* I breathed a sigh of relief, because I was afraid that this book was going to be based in a vague, wishy-washy Wiccanate paganism in the manner of Grimoire for the Apprentice Wizard. I regret my initial assumptions, because I really sold Kelden short. This book is well-sourced. It references medieval and Renaissance-era Christian lore, upon which much of the cunning tradition is based. It contains a succinct but really interesting and useful history of modern witchcraft, describing the various witchcraft traditions that sprung up around Wicca. The only one I was previously familiar with was Feri; I’d never heard of 1734 or the Clan of Tubal Cain. I’d also never heard of Cecil Williamson, which is criminal. And there’s no airy-fairy, pseudo-historical nonsense about vaguely-defined ancient pagans worshipping the moon goddess!
Though Traditional Witchcraft still takes a lot of cues from Wicca, it is less like Wicca than I expected. Differences include a heavier emphasis on folklore as a resource, animism, more direct and personalized interaction with the natural world (as opposed to a standardized Wheel of the Year), and explicitly including baneful magic. Based on the information in this book, Traditional Witchcraft seems to “fix” many of my personal grievances with Wicca. For one thing, Traditional Witchcraft rituals tend to be more idiosyncratic than standardized, which works better for me. I’ve realized that I’m working “backwards” with respect to certain magical skills, and it’s far more productive to adapt techniques to suit the skills I already have than to try to force myself into a system that doesn’t work for me. Traditional Witchcraft rituals are also more ecstatic, in contrast to Wicca’s very ceremonial rituals. I definitely prefer the ecstatic kind. I quickly grew weary of rituals that consisted mainly of reading long verses out of a book or off of a website, and the stress of having to plan and set up rituals deterred me from doing them. Many of my own best rituals have been spontaneous. A more ecstatic practice also better suits the particular gods I work with.
Kelden does describe the gods associated with Traditional Witchcraft in similar duotheistic terms. This book’s discussion of theurgy is brief, simplistic, and still very Wiccan. But it also makes the point that many witches have differing conceptions of divinity (or none at all), which is reassuring. I’m very tired of the Horned God/Triple Goddess, but Kelden has one of the most interesting takes on this concept that I’ve seen in years. He comes right out and says that the Witch Father (which is what he calls the Horned God) is the Devil. By this, he means that the folkloric conception of the Devil is more intrinsically associated with witchcraft than any other entity. The Devil has some very pagan dimensions, even on his own. Regardless of however much the Devil has been directly influenced by pagan deities, he occupies the same “space” in folklore that would have been filled by trickster deities in a pre-Christian context. He assumes whatever roles and aspects that the Christian God won’t touch. That doesn’t mean that Kelden or that any other Traditional Witch is necessarily a Satanist, but it does mean that the Devil in folklore informs the Traditional Witch’s conception of the masculine Divine. I really, really like this. It’s a nice middle ground between Margaret-Murray-ism and the edginess of Satanism. Everything Kelden said about the characterization of the Witch Lord (a bringer of enlightenment, tricksterish, likes dance and sexuality, dual-natured, both frenzied and somber, associated with life and death, represents the Shadow and primal aspects of the psyche) resonates for me, because that’s Dionysus. Much of what he said about the Witch Mother also resonated — that she facilitates initiation, that she presides over birth and death, and that she is a cosmic wellspring from which the universe is generated. Despite how jaded I have become with the duotheistic model, I am starting to warm up to these archetypes again, swinging back around to them after having been devastated by the amount of modern constructs and outright fabrications that surround them. The two gods I’m closest to, Dionysus and Hecate, embody these archetypes perfectly — even in their original forms.
Traditional Witchcraft is more ethically neutral than Wicca (or at least, mainstream Wicca) because it is grounded in the folk magic of disenfranchised people who didn’t have any other way of standing up for themselves. Kelden emphasizes that one should not haphazardly cast curses, hexes, banishments, and bindings, but that one should always know how to cast them if the need arises. This dual approach to magic is appealing to me. Turns out I actually know much more about folk magic than I thought I did, because all of the techniques that Kelden outlines are ones I’m familiar with. I wish he went into more detail about how to adapt historical spells into modern ones, because that’s where I feel I have the most trouble, but it may be that I’m overthinking it. I really like having the examples of workable spells that have been derived from these older sources.
Like most witchcraft books, this one describes the method of hedge-crossing to be quieting down one’s body and mind through deep breathing exercises, to trigger an Out-of-Body-Experience. I’ve never had an OBE, not even once. This led me to believe that I’m incapable of hedge-crossing, when I’m actually really, really good at it. I just have a weird way of doing it. Quieting my body and mind down makes me more aware of my physical discomfort and more present in the real world. I travel to the Otherworld when I pace, or otherwise keep my body occupied with repetitive movement. I’ve had some pretty spectacular experiences like this, and I’m working on structuring my practice around them. I’ve even experienced the “Witches’ Sabbath” in meditation before, which I realized while reading this book. (Just like with the Devil, Kelden puts a positive spin on the concept of a “Witches’ Sabbath,” describing it as an otherworldly festival attended by witches and various types of spirits. You can go there to do business with spirits, perform magic, or just have fun.) I still hope to have an OBE someday, but if I don’t, I understand I’m not missing anything. Because of my unconventional methods, I don’t know how to explain hedge-crossing to newbie practitioners, so I’m glad I now have this book as a resource to point to. I also really appreciate the recipe for non-toxic flying ointment.
The final section of this book is about communing with nature, which I have something of an ambivalent relationship with. On the one hand, I scoff at the notion that paganism in general is “nature-based.” Paganism thrived just as well in ancient metropolises that celebrated their “dominion” over nature. And there are so many different varieties of paganism, that generalizing them all as Druid-stereotype tree-hugging is, at best, reductive. On the other hand, I do really like being in nature. It improves my mental health. I ended up spending a lot of time in the nearby forest at my school. And, I distinctly remember that the most witchy I have ever felt was when I was dancing in my front yard with a hoop made from a wisteria vine. I haven’t been as interested in the wortcunning side of witchcraft, but I won’t pretend that the natural world holds no interest for me or has no relevance to my practice. As a child, I built fairy-houses in nearby trees and left food offerings. Who says I couldn’t do that now? I think my biggest hurdle is that I see local plants as mundane and boring in comparison to mandrake and mugwort, so I don’t really know how to magically engage with them. Kelden has some great advice about how to discover the “virtues” (correspondences) of native plants, rocks, and animals, and about how to safely work with poisonous plants for baneful magic. I also appreciate his advice about adapting the Wheel of the Year to suit your own seasonal patterns and landscape, as well as the spiritual/cultural associations that are actually important to you — no sense in celebrating agricultural or pastoral milestones if you’re not a farmer or a herder! Kelden closes off the book with a short chapter about how to actually apply all of the information in the book. Not enough beginner books do that. Establishing a regular practice is still something I haven’t quite gotten down, so even though it’s a short little section, any help is welcome.
Color me impressed! I liked this book more, and got more out of it, than I expected. I loved how accessible it was. It was a really easy and fast read (this is the quickest I’ve gotten through an occult book in a while). Kelden does a great job of distinguishing where all these different ideas or practices come from — which bits of folklore, which preexisting occult traditions, which primary sources, when it’s UPG, etc. The Crooked Path somehow walks the line between having just enough specificity to not feel generic (i.e. it’s a guide to a particular tradition), and being universally applicable enough to work for people of different creeds and locales. There are some things I would change: Kelden could have included more advice about how to connect with the natural world when one lives in a completely urban environment, and the Otherworld chapter could have used a section dedicated to Shadow Work. But this is still one of the best and most accessible beginner books I’ve read in a long time. I’m definitely going to start recommending it as a non-denominational intro-to-witchcraft book, of which there aren’t many.
Not that it’s bad to start with Wicca, but you have to know that’s what you’re doing; my biggest problem with Wicca 101 books is that most of them make certain beliefs/practices/approaches seem universal when they’re actually distinctly Wiccan, or draw no distinction between Wicca and witchcraft: “Witches” worship the Horned God and the Moon Goddess. “Witches” celebrate the eight Sabbats and Full/Dark Moons. “Witches” cast the circle and perform the Great Rite with the chalice and blade. “Witches” greet each other with “Blessed Be” or “Merry Meet,” and seal every spell with “so mote it be.” “Witches” follow the Rede. All of these things are features of Wicca specifically, but you have to know enough to be able to separate out the distinctly Wiccan aspects from everything else. As a neophyte who lacked that prior knowledge, I took all these things as a given. Early on, I frequently parroted “Wicca is a religion, witchcraft is a practice.” But somewhere along the line, I realized I didn’t know what that practice actually was. Wicca and witchcraft were so intertwined in my mind that I didn’t know what witchcraft looked like independently from Wicca. Traditional Witchcraft is still a specific path with its own history and associated practices, but it gives me a good idea of what “witchcraft” looks like on its own. It cuts out all the "pomp” of the Golden-Dawn-esque ceremonialism and focuses only on the “low magic” stuff, giving me a better sense of what “witchcraft” is at its core, and providing me with a framework that I can more easily adapt.
This book got me feeling witchy again, which is saying a lot. This is the most excited about witchcraft I’ve been in years, and Traditional Witchcraft scored a lot of points with me. I’m not comfortable with every aspect of it, but it gives me the freedom to change the things that don’t work for me. I read descriptions of other Traditional Witchcraft books on Amazon, and most of them also emphasized formulating an authentic and personalized craft based on one’s own environment. I wouldn’t expect something called “Traditional” to be so idiosyncratic; that seems a bit oxymoronic, but it’s also comforting and promising. If you’re a beginner and you’re interested in witchcraft, I highly recommend getting this book (or other books on Traditional Witchcraft) in addition to Wicca 101 books. That way, you can see what your options are, and select or combine practices as you see fit.
*Note: The top critical review on Amazon is written by a person who seemed utterly appalled that so many of these traditional spells have God or Jesus or the Devil in them. That person does not seem to know very much about traditional British and American folk magic. If you have an anti-Abrahamic bias, I encourage you to put it aside when studying any kind of historical or historically-inspired folk magic (or ceremonial magic, for that matter). You can adapt these old Christian spells to suit any religion or spiritual tradition, and Kelden says as much.














