Witches of America

I picked this up from the library at the same time as Hutton's Triumph of the Moon, in the hopes that it would bridge the 1999-present anthropological gap. It didn't.

Uninspired writing, a weird obsession with bodies that reminds me of dark teenage ED thinking, and a totally disingenuous “seeker” narrative.

Overall vibe? Insecure 30 something wants to write a book that sells, has a lot of body and class hangups, and hopes that vaguely exotic topic will mask her frankly boring writing.

Alas. Shouldn't have expected academic tone from pop journalism.