
Kate Griffin explores the lore of full moons and explains why she chose moon magic to deepen the character of Marta, the protagonist of her latest novel, Fyneshade.
Writing is a strange and solitary activity. Locked in their dens (or in my case chained to the kitchen table), most authors feel that they are howling at the moon. Once every 12 months the moon howls back.
The first full moon of the year is known in some traditions as the Wolf Moon. This year, it fell on the cold clear night of 25 January. You might have noticed that this chilling and rather romantic name appeared across social media. It even reached the orbit of the BBC, where a gallery of breathtaking photographs sent in by viewers was headlined: ‘In Pictures: Wolf Moon Rising’.
Until quite recently, the only moons deemed worthy of a media soubriquet were a Blue Moon (referring to the surprisingly frequent months when a moon is full twice), a Harvest Moon (self-explanatory), or a Supermoon (when the moon is at the closest point to Earth and appears larger and brighter).
But now it seems that the full moon also rises with a variety of richly evocative names. From Strawberry Moon to Sturgeon Moon, and from Hare Moon to Worm Moon, depending on which cultural sources you draw from you’ll find that this heavenly body has inspired a poetic and perhaps ritualistic response in ancient communities across the globe.
Interestingly, sometimes those names are the same. Separated by thousands of miles and the Atlantic Ocean, Native Americans and medieval Europeans used the name Wolf Moon. This is hardly surprising if you consider the eerie sound of these feared, totemic creatures howling in dark forests on a frozen night. At that time of year, the cry was a mating call or perhaps a wail of hunger.
In other parts of Europe, the January full moon was known as the Ice Moon or the Old Moon. The Anglo-Saxons called it the Moon After Yule.
I like Wolf Moon and I used it in my gothic novel Fyneshade. In fact, I used several of the old European moon names to divide the book into months, each name reflecting the development of my protagonist Marta’s story.
The book begins in the depths of winter with Wolf Moon and we progress through Bone Moon (February), Worm Moon (March), Egg Moon (April), Mother’s Moon (May), Rose Moon (June) and Thunder Moon (July). I leave Marta and the reader just as storm clouds are gathering.
As Marta is a witch – or believes herself to be one – it seemed the perfect way to explore and illustrate her connection with the craft. She uses the moon magic taught to her by her beloved French Grandmere, a woman who died too soon to explain that spells are always cast at a cost.
I’m still not entirely sure where the idea of using the moons to mark time came from, but I have the feeling that I absorbed something already ‘out there’. I finished writing Fyneshade in the midst of the first lockdown and I know that the creeping sense of menace, isolation and uncertainty we all felt found its way into the book. When the world is turned on its head people often look to the strangest places for explanation.
I think it’s true to say that one, perhaps unmined, response to Covid was a revival and growth in interest in all things esoteric. References to traditional divination techniques – tarot, astrology, the I Ching — seemed to crop up in my social media feeds quite regularly. Young women seemed particularly invested.
I still wonder if this was almost a rejection of the shattered certainties of the modern secular world and an attempt to find comfort and meaning in older spiritual ways of understanding the workings of the universe. It was definitely around this time that I began to see references to the wonderfully descriptive array of full moon names, and I knew that these would be perfect for the book I was writing.
I was not alone in seeing potential.
In the last few years, the feminine principle of what might be called ‘moon magic’ has been seized upon by a galaxy of stellar women. As far back as 2016 it was Earth Mother (or should that be Merch Mother?) Gwyneth Paltrow who espoused the benefits of a morning smoothie including something called ‘Moon Juice, Moon Dust.’
And just last August, beneath an artfully moonlit photo, she posted: “Taking this full moon energy with me as I go into a social media break. Going to work on being present. Happy summer.”
Not to be outdone, our very own Kate Moss has fully embraced the trend with the launch of her wellness brand ‘Cosmoss.’ Promoting an array of products designed to balance mind, body and soul, she told the Sunday Times that she likes to moonbathe – that is lying outside under the night sky to absorb lunar energy.
Considering the papped photos we’ve all seen of Mossy staggering out of ‘intensely sociable’ parties, moonbathing must be a blessed relief in her middle years. And there’s more: Croydon’s finest export also said that during full moons, she likes to power up her crystals in the back garden.
Next in the queue of female celebrities harnessing the power of the moon to fire up their bank accounts comes Holly Willoughby, who actually called her lifestyle brand Wylde Moon. Her launch included a video where she lights a candle in the moonlight, wishes viewers a ‘happy full moon’ and explains how this ritual ‘lets new feelings and energies’ into her life ‘for the next moon cycle’.
It’s not only celebrities who swoon for the moon. If you go onto TikTok — I had to get a young person to help me with this — you’ll find a whole tribe of ‘moonfluencers’ (yes, that is a word) vlogging about their moon rituals and celestial affirmations designed to manifest positive power and energy.
‘Moonfluencers’ are nearly all young women and rather sweet, unlike my own dear Marta.
I’m not surprised by the appeal of this magical thinking. The moon has often been seen as female or as embodying female energy.
The 28 days of the lunar cycle mirror the menstrual cycle and in many early religions, while the sun was worshipped as a male deity, the moon was most often a goddess: Artemis, Ceridwen, Isis, Hecate, Selene, Chang’e, Nyame, Diana, Coyolxauhqui to name but a few. All such beautiful names.
Witches were suspected of gathering to celebrate their sabbats under the light of a full moon, because, obviously, feminine power is fearful thing of darkness and night (!)
I hesitate to call modern day moonfluencers witches, but there’s something quite uplifting about seeing them reclaim and reframe an echo of the past.
By the way, if you are inclined to emulate Kate Moss, the next full moon is on 24 February. It’s called the Bone Moon and also the Snow Moon, so wrap up!
Fyneshade by Kate Griffin was published in paperback on 1 February, 2024. Kate says: It was published on the Celtic feast of Imbolc. If you know, you know…
Read more about this book.
Kate has written other features for Historia. Have a look:
Top six Turns of the Screw, about the gothic films that inspired her novel
Top ten films set in the Victorian era
Find out about Kate in her Historia Q&A interview
Here are some related pieces you may also enjoy:
Did time run slower in the old days? My year living by almanack time and A charmed life: childbirth and superstition by Martine Bailey
The history of werewolves by Theodore Brun
Magicians and film-makers, masters of illusions by Liz Hyder (includes some excellent moon content)
Witch’s Mummy: corpses and cure-alls by Naomi Kelsey
The Fairy (tale) Godfather by Nicholas Jubber
The living history of traditional folk songs by Fiona Mountain
Images:
- Full Wolf Moon by stephaniesbecker: Flickr (CC BY-SA 2.0)
- Wolf howling at full moon: Rawpixel (public domain)
- Hecate (the Moon) by Francesco Salviati, 1543–1545: Palazzo Vecchio Museum via Wikimedia (public domain)
- Roundel with a personification of the Moon, Carolingian, 860–890: Metropolitan Museum of Art (public domain)
- Diana Luna, 1529, from The Illustrated Bartsch 17: Rijksmuseum (public domain)
- Coyolxauhqui, 1. original Coyolxauhqui Stone and 2. reconstruction of original colours: 1. Tenochtitlán Museum by Dennis Jarvis for Wikimedia (CC BY-SA 2.0) 2. Exhibition in the Temple Museum Major, Mexico, by Drini for Wikimedia (CC BY-SA 4.0)










