Notes on The Book of Mormon from a Nineteenth Century Perspective: Manichaeism in America, I

The tension between “I am responsible for my sins” and “it isn’t my fault—it’s coming from outside me” never entirely goes away. It certainly didn’t in the nineteenth century.

Calvinists believed in demons. Increase Mather produced the first American (colonial) collection of folklore when he compiled Remarkable Providences, an assortment of tales from the New and Old World about paranormal happenings. The fascinating aspect of the book is that although both Mathers are often blamed for furthering beliefs in witchcraft through their publications, the tales in this particular book come across more as “Woah! Didja hear about that poltergeist who caused all kinds of problems for that family down the block?!”

Two hundred years later, Increase and his son Cotton would be hosting ghost-hunting “reveals” on television.

Jonathan Edwards, who may in fact have believed in Satan less, being a product of Enlightenment thinking, seems more prone to use demons and hellfire as a scare tactic than Increase Mather, who thoroughly believed in them.

I was reminded of an incident in my teen years. I was at a slumber party where the adult leader—who was likely in her late twenties—wanted to tell us teen girls numerous “my roommate who was possessed by an evil spirit” tales. She wasn't doing it in a jokey, storyteller way--she wasn't telling urban legends--but rather as a believer who couldn't wait to relate her adventures. 

Finally, one of the girls said sternly, “I’m not okay with this. Let’s say a prayer.” She said a prayer and the discussion ended.

So modern-day teens who sorta, kinda, maybe believe in demons perceive them more as Edwards did (terrifying threats) than as Mather did (fodder for publication). 

What I remember most was the sheer disappointment on the leader’s face. She didn’t just think she was being entertaining. She wanted to tell stories about devils and demons.

In my novel Saint of Mars, my Catholic priest Rhys remarks to his personal lurking Cubus (an invisible being):

“[People prefer a] world populated by the familiar. You know, when Puritans established the Massachusetts Bay Colony, they left behind a landscape of elves and sprites and goblins. How lonely they were, adrift without their invisible companions. It is difficult to uproot what Father Hadaka calls yokai from place. Cubi [invisible sentient beings] offer a balanced Mars.”

 “Angels as well as demons,” Lider said, and Rhys smiled.

Even if they had to leave their local elves and fairies and sprites at home, the immigrants to New England brought beliefs in such beings with them as well as beliefs in magic. The educated preachers perceived any use of magic as negative—it meant that humans were attempting to undermine the grace of God by taking for themselves what only God could offer. If He wants you to suffer, you should suffer.

But beliefs in supernatural beings--and the methods to corral or at least appease those beings--were prevalent amongst "commoners," and they lingered. Accusations of witchcraft decreased as civil lawsuits became more and more of a norm. However, such accusations and related "news" continued well into the 1800s. The belief in vampires continued to provide communal explanations for tragedy--vampires as responsible for deaths from tuberculosis, for instance--into the late nineteenth century (I would argue that the same tales and beliefs transferred, in part, to space aliens in the twentieth century).

Next: Why beliefs in demons were embraced in the nineteenth century...