Footnote: Anagrams
I wouldn’t say this counts as a “convention” of the witch canon by any means, but ...
Did you ever notice how often anagrams feature as plot points in supernatural works, including witch tales?
In Rosemary’s Baby we have Roman Castevet/Steven Marcato (see Oct. 22). In The Witch Returns (1992), book six of Phyliss Reynold Naylor’s witch saga, Elnora Tuggle, the villainess of preceding installments, returns as her own younger sister Greta Gullone. Similarly, in the movie Horror Hotel (see Oct. 11), witch Elizabeth Selwyn lives on as Mrs. Newless—an anagram in intent, so to speak, “Newless” being a sort of backward spelling.
The revelation can make for a jolt in the protagonist caught unaware, as well as the reader/viewer along for the ride. But mostly the device comes off as “kid stuff,” and kind of lame even at that. “Elnora Tuggle’ and “Greta Gullone” at least are good witch names. But Levin’s Rosemary puzzle? Forced and awkward, if you ask me. Besides, what’s the point? Why not just use a completely new name? Is there some kind of supernatural law (or psychosis) that demands the letter switch-up?
The Da Vinci Code (2003) is rife with this woo-woo business. Witness likewise Stephen King’s famous “redrum” from The Shining (1977). Ooh, spooky. And don’t forget the “Alucard” catalog going back to Son of Dracula (1943). You’ve been around, what, a thousand years and you can’t come up with a better pseudonym than that?
But bar none the all-time silliest instance of this conceit has to be the town of “San Melas” in the 1971 TV movie Black Noon. Full of witches, you betcha!
Did you ever notice how often anagrams feature as plot points in supernatural works, including witch tales?
In Rosemary’s Baby we have Roman Castevet/Steven Marcato (see Oct. 22). In The Witch Returns (1992), book six of Phyliss Reynold Naylor’s witch saga, Elnora Tuggle, the villainess of preceding installments, returns as her own younger sister Greta Gullone. Similarly, in the movie Horror Hotel (see Oct. 11), witch Elizabeth Selwyn lives on as Mrs. Newless—an anagram in intent, so to speak, “Newless” being a sort of backward spelling.
The revelation can make for a jolt in the protagonist caught unaware, as well as the reader/viewer along for the ride. But mostly the device comes off as “kid stuff,” and kind of lame even at that. “Elnora Tuggle’ and “Greta Gullone” at least are good witch names. But Levin’s Rosemary puzzle? Forced and awkward, if you ask me. Besides, what’s the point? Why not just use a completely new name? Is there some kind of supernatural law (or psychosis) that demands the letter switch-up?
The Da Vinci Code (2003) is rife with this woo-woo business. Witness likewise Stephen King’s famous “redrum” from The Shining (1977). Ooh, spooky. And don’t forget the “Alucard” catalog going back to Son of Dracula (1943). You’ve been around, what, a thousand years and you can’t come up with a better pseudonym than that?
But bar none the all-time silliest instance of this conceit has to be the town of “San Melas” in the 1971 TV movie Black Noon. Full of witches, you betcha!
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