Gateway to the Otherworld ~ Folklore of the Fly Agaric
The wheel trundles ever onwards, even through the age of the anthropocene, as buckled and worn as it may be.
Samhain approaches, that time when our attention turns to those who came before, our ancestors. All the celebrations that seem to occur at this time, the spiritual and the secular seem to include some aspect of looking backwards, yes the honouring our own beloved dead, but also involves delving into the dark despite our fears, perhaps even to spite them. All seem to hint at or touch on, in some way, the dying aspect of the cycle of life, death and rebirth.
Indeed, there is no denying that this time holds special meaning for many people, even those who may not be able to put into words just what it is they feel. Sometimes words just cannot convey that sense of other those transformational energies of the season seem to evoke. It isn’t the sense of freshness and joy that comes with spring. Instead, the dark autumn seems to draw us inwards, to those liminal spaces that felt so distant before but now bridge the gap between the self and this pervading sense of otherness that sinks into your bones and lingers there.
I feel this most keenly in the woods. I think others do too, though some find this feeling something to worry about or fear even (my dad often tells me off for going to the woods alone).
One of the woods I go to, a couple of miles from my home, is a large managed woods, a mix of pines, beech, birch and oak. It’s a beautiful place all year through, but seems extra special in the autumn months. But it’s not just the beauty and the sense of spirit that draws me to the woods at this time of year, though I cannot deny that in itself is enough, anything else an added bonus. It’s mushroom season.
There are so many fungi that grow in the woods, the weird and the wonderful. Most I don’t know, but there are those few unmistakable; the stinkhorn and shaggy inkcap. Penny buns and bay boletes make excellent eating. The star of the show though, the most striking of all, is the fly agaric, also known as amanita muscaria.
The fly agaric is perhaps the most well known of all fungi, having seeped into the human psyche through the ages of man. It is the magic toadstool of fairy tales and fairy land where all manner of creatures reside. Yes, there is something indeed magical and spiritual about the amanita muscaria.
And so let us explore this magical mushroom. It seems apt at this time of transformation, of descending darkness and the thinning of the veil.
Santa & Shamans
The link between fly agaric and shamans of Siberia is perhaps the most well known connection. I’ve lost count of the times people only interested in getting high told me to drink deer piss. Of course, there is that truth at the centre of such advice and insight. The deer itself acts as a filter, so that the urine contains few of the harmful elements and retains more of the hallucinogenic compounds.
With all this in mind, it’s easy to make links with modern depictions of Santa Claus. The red and white outfit, flying reindeer as transportation. I mean hello, flying…the image of the witch on her broom is an analogy of flying ointments we are used to but the flying reindeer less so.
And it’s not just here where we can see links with modern Christmas and Yule celebrations, we see them too in the descriptions of beings such as the tomte from Nordic folklore. These mischievous little creatures were associated with Yule and their big red hats and white beards again bring to mind the big red cap and white spots of the fly agaric.
Links to Fairy Land
One might assume the legendary liberty cap, the classic magic mushroom, would be the fungi most associated with magic and the otherworld, what with it’s well known effects. Yet it is the fly agaric that is the classic toadstool of fairy tales. Just looking at the glossy red cap and white spots, it’s easy to see why this mushroom has captured the imagination of man. Whereas the other mushrooms on the forest floor often take some looking for, the fly agaric is so visible, shockingly so among the browns and greens of the often muddy forest floor in autumn.
It’s not just the look that makes this mushroom a part of our collective lore, particularly when it comes to the fae and the otherworld that is their domain.
Unlike the relatively safe liberty cap, the fly agaric, while hallucinogenic, is also toxic. To reduce the toxicity, it must be carefully prepared. This element of danger that comes with the desired effects brings to mind the dangerously alluring fae. Beautiful and dangerous, all at the same time.
This link to fairy land and the fae can be seen in art, particularly of and around the 1900s. One of my favourite depictions of the fly agaric is in Illustrations by Ivan Bilibin for an 1899 edition of the Russian fairytale Vasilisa the Beautiful. This particular illustration shows Baba Yaga in a wood of birch with fly agaric sprouting up from the forest floor.
The Axis Mundi
It is clear that the fly agaric has many associations with magic, particularly at the darkest parts of the year. While many of the associations do indeed focus on the celebrations that come later in the year, for me, the amanita is firmly fixed in autumn, at Samhain, mostly because you’ll be lucky to find it here at Yule. Right now, though, it is in full stride.
Fungi in general, but the fly agaric specifically bring to mind working with the axis mundi, the world soul. Again, considering the wealth of lore and historical and magical uses of the fungi, it makes sense the amanita fulfils this role, a kind of psychopomp, if you will.
You know, you’ll commonly find the fly agaric beneath a tree, and the reason is they have a symbiotic, reciprocal relationship. The amanita is a mycorrhizal fungi, meaning it acts almost as a root for the tree, helping the tree to take in nutrients and minerals. At the same time, the tree provides the mycelium with carbohydrates. This to and fro relationship, one of balance and working together seems, at least in my mind, to embody what it means when we traverse the axis mundi at this time of year, whether that’s to work with the spirits of land and nature or our own beloved dead. The mycelium that acts as the nervous system for the forest, represents those invisible energies that are felt within rather than seen and explained, connecting us to the land, the spirits and the realms they call home.
References and Further Reading
https://publicdomainreview.org/essay/fungi-folklore-and-fairyland
EMMA KATHRYN
Emma Kathryn, practises traditional British witchcraft, Vodou and Obeah, a mixture representing her heritage. She lives in the sticks with her family where she reads tarot, practises witchcraft and drink copious amounts of coffee.
You can follow Emma on Facebook.