The Wax Child

Ravn (My Work) draws on the true story of a 17th-century Danish noblewoman beheaded for witchcraft, in this masterful blend of history and horror. It’s narrated by an omniscient wax doll made by Christenze Kruckow, a 30-something virgin who lives at Nakkebølle Manor in Funen, Denmark. By 1615, the mistress of the manor, Anne Bille, has given birth to 15 babies, all of whom were stillborn or died shortly after birth. When Anne accuses Christenze of witchcraft, she flees to the city of Aalborg. There, she’s instantly attracted to a stranger named Maren Kneppis, and they kiss. Maren then invites Christenze to a series of all-night “carding fests,” during which several women gather to spin wool and talk about their troubles. They also use Christenze’s doll to cast spells on others, until they’re caught by one of the husbands and Christenze is again accused of witchcraft, along with the other women. From here, Ravn’s depiction of the draconian criminal justice system is gripping and well researched, from the bloodthirsty king whose lieutenant serves the arrest warrants to the procedures of Aalborg’s provincial court. The main event, though, is the spectacularly demented doll, who channels a mysterious rebellious power inspired by Christenze and her cohort and by their grisly fate. Or, as the doll puts it in describing the hush that fell over the courtroom at the thought of the convicted Maren being burned at the stake: “It retained as yet a generative force that could be harnessed and put to use.” This devilishly subversive feminist anthem is one of a kind. (Sept.)