Questioning the Validity of Aztec Sacrifices: A Mini-Essay

     In December of 2007, historian Ocelocoatl Ramírez conducted a lecture titled El mito del sacrificio humano at the Center for Training and Careers in San José.[1] In his presentation, Ramírez, building on the theories of Fernández Gatica, Meza Gutiérrez, and Lira Montes de Oca, proposes the human sacrifices related by Hernán Cortés and other Spanish conquistadors were merely fabricated propaganda used to vilify the Mexica and encourage government-sanctioned enslavement and eradication of these people.[2] Although the concept of Ramírez and his fellow scholars provide an intriguing stance on human sacrifices among the Mexica (and hold parallels to Roman preoccupation with Celtic sacrifices), surviving Mexica art and literature, coupled with archeological evidence, attest to sacrifices done daily to Huitzilopochtli, the god of the sun and warfare, to protect the civilization from darkness and famine.[3] Typically war captives, victims were either drugged on peyote or intoxicated with pulque at dawn on the day of their execution. Dragged up the steps of the Tenochtitlán temples, including the two-hundred-foot-tall Pyramid of the Sun, those meant for sacrifice were stretched across a stone block, held down by four priests, and had their still-beating hearts ripped out of their chests by a fifth priest yielding an obsidian blade.[4] After the heart, which the priests referred to as a cactus flower, was offered to keep the darkness away, it was ceremoniously burned, the body was dismantled (the torso was fed to dogs and the appendages were ritualistically eaten with chili and maize), and the blood was sprinkled throughout the city to ward off evil entities.[5]

Works Referenced

Colín, Ernesto. Indigenous Education through Dance and Ceremony: A Mexica Palimpsest. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014.

Cummins, Joseph. The World’s Bloodiest History: Massacre, Genocide, and the Scars They Left on Civilization. New York: Crestline, 2013.
____________________ 
[1] Colín, 206-217.
[2] Colín, 206-217.
[3] Cummins, 27.
[4] Cummins, 27.
[5] Cummins, 27.

Christmas Votive

$5 - $10 (based on 2018 prices)

Makes one votive

In 2018, I participated in my office’s secret pal gift exchange, where we anonymously sent monthly gifts to a colleague. For December’s present, (see November’s present here), I decided to attempt a decoupage votive. Although I used a snowflake theme, you can substitute the imagery and ornament for other winter-related elements, such as a Santa Claus or snowman.

• One twelve-inch glass vase
• Two or three single-ply Christmas-themed napkins
• One 4 oz. bottle of decoupage medium
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in metallic silver*
• One small Christmas-themed ornament
• Hot glue gun and glue sticks
  

1. Thoroughly wash and dry the vase. If there is any sticker residue, use rubbing alcohol to remove it (soak a paper towel in the solution, let it sit over the area for a few minutes, and wipe away the remaining glue). After cleaning the vase, roughen its surface with coarse sandpaper to help the decoupage medium adhere.

2. Cut or tear apart the napkins. For the best translucency, you want single-ply paper. If you cannot find one-ply paper napkins, simply separate the plies of multi-ply sheets. You can either isolate distinct images (as I did) or use random sections.

3. Cover the entire exterior surface of the vase with the cuttings. This process works best if you move in stages: apply a layer of decoupage medium to one section, press the paper down until it sticks, and repeat the process. For the best translucency, try not to overlap the sections too much (the thicker your layers, the less candlelight will show through). 

4. Once the decoupage medium has dried, apply an additional coat or two to serve as a sealer. As with step three, ensure your coverage is even and thin to achieve the best translucency. 

5. Use hot glue to create a dripping effect along the rim of the vase. You want it to resemble icicles, so vary the length and thickness of each strand. Also, depending on your chosen appearance for the prop, you can cluster the embellishment towards the top of the vase or drag it down all the way to the base.

6. Apply two or three even coats of metallic silver paint to the drippings and, if you desire, seal the paint with a coat or two of the decoupage medium. Although I selected silver, you can use whichever color complements the color scheme of your napkins. 

7. Center a snowflake ornament at the front of the votive and, using the hanging loop, attach it to the vase with a few drops of glue. For a sturdier hold, use superglue. Here, too, you may utilize whichever decoration matches the theme of your napkins’ imagery. 

8. While you are free to embellish the item with additional details, try to keep these to a minimum. The more elements you add, the more the candlelight is blocked.

*You will not use the entire bottle’s content for this project.

"A Dialogue between the Soul and the Body" (A Poem)

Composed in 1681, Andrew Marvell's "A Dialogue between the Soul and the Body" builds on the medieval literary genre of the soul's complaint about its physical encasement; however, unlike its religious predecessors, which pit the pious soul against the sins of human flesh, Marvell's work takes a philosophical perspective, where the both entities bemoan their symbiotic dependence on each other.[1] 

SOUL 
O who shall, from this dungeon, raise 
A soul enslav’d so many ways? 
With bolts of bones, that fetter’d stands 
In feet, and manacled in hands; 
Here blinded with an eye, and there
Deaf with the drumming of an ear;
A soul hung up, as ’twere, in chains
Of nerves, and arteries, and veins;
Tortur’d, besides each other part,
In a vain head, and double heart.

BODY
O who shall me deliver whole
From bonds of this tyrannic soul?
Which, stretch’d upright, impales me so
That mine own precipice I go;
And warms and moves this needless frame,
(A fever could but do the same)
And, wanting where its spite to try,
Has made me live to let me die.
A body that could never rest,
Since this ill spirit it possest.

SOUL
What magic could me thus confine
Within another’s grief to pine?
Where whatsoever it complain,
I feel, that cannot feel, the pain;
And all my care itself employs;
That to preserve which me destroys;
Constrain’d not only to endure
Diseases, but, what’s worse, the cure;
And ready oft the port to gain,
Am shipwreck’d into health again.

BODY
But physic yet could never reach
The maladies thou me dost teach;
Whom first the cramp of hope does tear,
And then the palsy shakes of fear;
The pestilence of love does heat,
Or hatred’s hidden ulcer eat;
Joy’s cheerful madness does perplex,
Or sorrow’s other madness vex;
Which knowledge forces me to know,
And memory will not forego.
What but a soul could have the wit
To build me up for sin so fit?
So architects do square and hew
Green trees that in the forest grew.[2]

Works Referenced

Brackett, Virginia. The Facts on File Companion to British Poetry: 17th and 18th Centuries. New York: Facts on File, 2008.

Marvell, Andrew. "A Dialogue between the Soul and the Body." The Poems of Andrew Marvell. Ed. Nigel Smith. London: Longman, 2003. 61-63.
____________________
[1] Brackett, 111-112.
[2] Marvell, 61-63.

Alchemy Banner

$5 - $10 (based on 2018 prices)

Makes one banner

For the witch den, which was part of my office’s annual decorating competition, I unified the theme by incorporating alchemy symbols into many of the props. This alchemy banner was part of this endeavor. Since the prop was meant to decorate the hallways, I used two books (upwards of six-hundred pages) to craft over one-hundred feet. Your final product does not need to be this excessive. You can par it down to only a few feet. Hence, adjust the quantities in this instruction to match your desired goals.

• One or two old books
• At least four tablespoons of dark roasted coffee grounds
• One pan large enough to soak the books
• Roughly thirty yards of thick string
• One 4 oz. bottle of all-purpose tacky glue
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in cherry cobbler
  

1. Boil enough water to completely submerge the books and pour it into the pan. Add the coffee. The longer you allow the coffee to brew, the darker the stain will become. Likewise, greater amounts of coffee will produce a richer stain. Submerge the books in the coffee mixture and soak them until they reach the color you desire. I soaked mine for four days.

2. Remove the books from the water and allow them to dry. You can hang them from a clothesline and let them air dry in the sun for several days or, if time is scarce, center them on a baking sheet, place the sheet on the lowest oven rack, and bake at 200ºF for seven to ten minutes. NOTE: depending on the size of your books, you may need more or less time, so remain by the oven and constantly check the items to prevent any fires. 

3. Tear pages out of the books and use red paint to draw alchemy symbols onto them. You can add the markings randomly or put them in strategic places. While I elected to use alchemy symbols to unify the haunt’s theme, you could modify the prop by writing spells across the surfaces or using patterns of your own design.

4. Link the pages together with the string, leaving about six inches between each pendant. To attach them to the string, fold the top of the page about a quarter of an inch over the string and glue it in place. You could also punch holes in the top corners of the page and use these to connect the pendants.

5. The prop can be enhanced, if your desire, by adding clusters of feathers or small trinkets between each page to complement the theme of your haunt.

Galli and the Cult of Cybele: A Mini-Essay

     Between 218 B.C.E. and 201 B.C.E., the Second Punic War brought a unique cult to the Roman Empire.[1] The conflict introduced Romans to the mythology of Asia Minor and its legend of Cybele captivated a select few. As lore maintains, Cybele’s excessive love for her son, Attis, drove the man mad and, rather than marry another woman, Attis, during a psychotic break, castrated himself and pledged his alliance to his overbearing mother.[2] Roman fascination with the myth prompted the Cult of Cybele and the erection of a temple on the grounds which are the current site for Saint Peter’s Basilica.[3] Although the introduction of a new religious sect was nothing new to Roman society, the behavior of its followers, known as galli, were cause for concern. Following in Attis’ footsteps, galli pledged their devotion to the goddess Cybele and, in a celebration known as the Day of Blood, danced through the streets of Rome, severed their testicles with a knife, and threw the castrated items into the nearest home, where the residents gifted the galli with women’s clothing to wear as they spent the remainder of their lives as cross-dressing eunuchs who tended to the temple of Cybele.[4] The religious practice drew strong ire from many Roman citizens and the conduct of the galli was repeatedly mocked by individuals who felt their behavior was too bizarre – even by Roman standards.[5] In fact, the Roman Senate established strict legislature which forbade citizens from being anything more than spectators in the Day of Blood.[6] Despite these efforts to squelched the trend, the cult maintained its strength until it was dispersed in the fourth century, C.E., by the rise of Christianity.[7]

Works Referenced

Friedman, David. A Mind of Its Own: A Cultural History of the Penis. New York: The Free Press, 2001.

Stevenson, Walter. “The Rise of Eunuchs in Greco-Roman Antiquity.” Journal of the History of Sexuality 5.4 (1995): 485-511.

Taylor, Gary. Castration: An Abbreviated History of Western Manhood. New York: Routledge, 2001.
____________________ 
[1] Friedman, 30.
[2] Friedman, 30.
[3] Friedman, 30.
[4] Stevenson, 485-511.
[5] Taylor, 140.
[6] Friedman, 32-33.
[7] Friedman, 30.

Skull Talismans

$10 - $15 (based on 2018 prices)

Makes three talismans

For the witch den, which was part of my office’s annual decorating competition, I unified the theme by incorporating alchemy symbols into many of the props. These skull talismans were part of this endeavor. Although I selected moderately sized sticks due to the height of the office’s ceiling, you could craft an impressive outdoor display by using larger pieces or constructing one massive stick bundle and adhering multiple masks in various spots.

• Three plastic skull masks
• One yard of white fabric
• At least four tablespoons of dark roasted coffee grounds
• One pan large enough to soak the fabric
• One 4 oz. bottle of all-purpose tacky glue*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in flat black*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in cherry cobbler*
• Nine gnarled sticks
• Hot glue gun and glue sticks
  

1. Cut the mandibles off of the skull masks. For visual interest, you can create jagged edges; however, I elected for cleaner lines. To make this process easier, purchase masks made from thin plastic. If it helps, trace the outline of your cuts with a marker first.

2. Boil enough water to completely submerge the fabric and pour it into the pan. Add the coffee. The longer you allow the coffee to brew, the darker the stain will become. Likewise, greater amounts of coffee will produce a richer stain. Submerge the cloth in the coffee mixture and soak it until it reaches the color you desire. I soaked mine for four days and scattered the coffee grounds over the top of the fabric to add spots. Remove the fabric from the water and allow it to dry.

3. Cut the fabric into three evenly sized portions large enough to cover the masks and, starting at the front of the skulls, glue cloth to the masks. I found that this process works best if you move in stages: apply a layer of glue to one section, hold the fabric down until it sticks, and then repeat the process. 

4. Once the glue has dried, trim the excess fabric from the edges to give the props a cleaner appearance. Alternatively, you could leave the extra cloth, fraying an tattering it for a more unkempt look. 

5. Smudge black paint around the eyes and nose and along the edges of the masks to give them a smoky appearance. You may want to experiment with a scrap of leftover cloth before applying the paint to the fabric. 

6. Draw alchemy symbols onto the foreheads with red paint. You can add the markings randomly or put them in strategic places. While I elected to use alchemy symbols to unify the haunt’s theme, you could modify the prop by writing spells across the surfaces or using patterns of your own design. 

7. Gather about nine sticks (three for each mask). A simple ten-minute walk in the park or woods yields the best and cheapest results. Try to select pieces in varying sizes and shapes. Arrange the sticks in an interesting pattern and hot glue them together. For added support, you could lash them together with steel wire. Additionally, protect your hands during assembly by wearing heavy work gloves.

8. Center the masks on the stick bundles and glue them in place. Although hot glue provided a firm hold, you are free to use superglue or another industrial adhesive to provide a sturdier bond. Once this is done, repurpose the masks’ elastic bands to create hanging loops or, for a more rustic look, use rope or twine.

*You will not use the entire bottle’s content for this project.

Owl Wreath

$10 - $15 (based on 2018 prices)

Makes one wreath

In 2018, I participated in my office’s secret pal gift exchange, where we anonymously sent monthly gifts to a colleague. For November’s present, I decided to return to the act of wreath making (an experience soured by 2017’s haunt) and craft a fall-themed item. Although I decided to use an owl and pinecone, you can substitute the two for other fall-related decorations, such as a scarecrow and pumpkin or a crow and dried corn husk.

• One nine-inch willow wreath
• One yard of burlap ribbon
• One yard of dark brown twine
• Four four-foot garlands of fall leaves (roughly thirty-six leaves per garland)
• One stuffed owl figure
• One pinecone
• Twelve inches of steel wire
• Hot glue gun and glue sticks
  

1. Wrap half of the wreath in burlap ribbon and glue the bands in place. For visual interest, I chose to spiral the fabric outward; however, you could attached it vertically. You may want to play with the ribbon’s pattern before gluing it down.

2. Wrap twine around the ribbon to hide the seams and glue the strands in place. I elected to use a color darker than the burlap to create contrast, but you can match the colors to achieve a more unified appearance.

3. Separate the leaves from their garlands. Although you could do this while you glue them to the wreath, I found that performing this step beforehand made the following process much easier. Plus, it gives you a clear idea of exactly how many leaves you have.

4. Use hot glue to adhere the leaves to the wreath. For visual interest, build up layers and vary the color patterns so that leaves with the same hues and shapes are not concentrated in one area.

5. Glue the owl and pinecone to the lower portion of the wreath where the burlap and leaves meet. You could nestle the items among the foliage (like I did) or give them a more prominent display.

6. Bend the steel wire in half, clap the folded end with a pair of needle-nose plyers, and twist both strands around each other to fashion a hanging loop and glue it to the back of the wreath.

7. Give the wreath additional bulk by fluffing the leaves prior to display. You can also adhere additional leaves around the owl and pinecone to fill gaps and blend the items.

“Ode to a Nightingale” (A Poem)

Akin to his “La Belle Dame sans Merci,” John Keats’ “Ode to a Nightingale” involves the temptation of the narrator by supernatural forces. As the poem unfolds, the nightingale lures the narrator away from this world and into one of sensuous imagery and immortality. After tasting the marvels of this exquisite land, the narrator contemplates death to remain there forever; however, he reconsiders and returns to the human realm, where he begins to question which domain is more real. While the entity in “La Belle Dame sans Merci” is a vampiric vixen, the force embodied by the nightingale in “Ode to a Nightingale” can be interpreted as many things: artistic creation, idealized beauty, illicit substances, and even death itself.[1]

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness, —
That thou, light-wingéd Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delvéd earth, 
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stainéd mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a muséd rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain —
To thy high requiem become a sod.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toil me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?[2]

Works Referenced

Davis, Paul, Gary Harrison, David Johnson, Patricia Clark Smith, and John Crawford, eds. The Bedford Anthology of World Literature: The Nineteenth Century, 1800-1900. Vol. 5. Boston, MA: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2003.

Keats, John. “Ode to a Nightingale.” John Keats: The Complete Poems. New York: Penguin, 1988. 346-347.
____________________ 
[1] Davis, Harrison, Johnson, Smith, and Crawford, 283-284.
[2] Keats, 346-347.

Haunted Portraits

$15 - $20 (based on 2018 prices)

Makes two portraits

For the ghost theme used in my office’s annual decorating competition, I decided to revisit a prop from 2014’s haunt and apply the lessons learned from four additional years of prop-building experience to fine-tune the item. Akin to the earlier piece, you can make a subtle statement with a small, cheap frame or a dramatic impression with something more massive and ornate. You can also create a series of portraits with several smaller window clings.

• Two 16” x 20” frames
• One 10 oz. can of interior/exterior, fast-drying spray paint in flat black
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in au natural*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in flat black*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in cherry cobbler*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in hot cocoa*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in spice brown*
• Eight pieces of 8” x 11.5” copy paper
• At least four tablespoons of black tea (e.g. Darjeeling, Earl Gary, English Breakfast, etc.)
• One pan large enough to soak the copy paper
• Two Halloween-themed window clings
• One 4 oz. bottle of all-purpose tacky glue*
• One bag of small spiders (roughly thirty spiders per bag)
  

1. Remove the backings and any glass from the frames and, on a newspaper-lined surface in a well-ventilated area, apply an even coat of black spray paint. Although I only used one coat, you may want more depending on your desired coverage. Keep in mind, though, that this is the base coat and much of the black paint will be covered up by lighter colors.

2. Use varying hues of brown to achieve an aged wood patina. I found that working from light to dark provided the deep tones I wanted to contrast with the lightness of the tea-stained paper; however, if you need brighter shades, work from dark to light.

3. Boil enough water to completely submerge the copy paper and pour it into the pan. Add the tea. The longer you allow the tea to brew, the darker the stain will become. Likewise, greater amounts of tea will produce a richer stain. I found that a combination of English and Irish Breakfast brewed for over ten minutes produces a nice, deep brown. Submerge the paper into the tea mixture and soak it until it reaches the color you desire. I soaked mine for eight hours and scattered the loose-leaf tea over the top of the paper to add spots. Remove the paper from the water and allow it to dry. Although it can be time consuming, this process works best if you stain each sheet of paper individually.

4. Glue the stained paper to the cardboard backings. To make it appear even more decrepit, crinkle the paper and create holes. Since the window clings will rest above these elements, preplan their location to prevent any odd placements that will interfere with the images.

5. Glue the window clings to the paper. For the best results, press the vinyl as smooth as possible, removing any bubbles and wrinkles. To assist in this process, use a firm piece of plastic, like a credit card.

6. With black and brown paint, create smears and spots on the paper. Play with the patterns until you reach the design you desire. You could also water down the paints and let the wash run downward from the top of the portrait. You may want to experiment with the consistency prior to doing this: the more water you add, the fainter/lighter the wash; the less water you add, the deeper/darker the wash.

7. Accent the portraits with a cluster of spiders crawling from a torn eye socket and bloody handprints. NOTE: The particular spiders I used were made with a slick plastic which did not adhere with hot glue. As a result, I used superglue gel to affix them to the prop.

8. Attach the frames to the backings. For added support, glue the backings in place, particularly if you plan to display these in windy conditions. If the frames did not come with hanging hooks, you can add store-bought items to the back or fashion your own with steel wire.

*You will not use the entire bottle’s content for this project.

Saving the Communal Nature of Halloween: A Mini-Essay

     In her examination of Bonfire Night, which occurs on the fifth of November in Newfoundland, Catherine Schwoeffermann explains how this annual festival, which is eagerly anticipated, is a significant communal affair: the preparation process unites family and community members with a single goal; the event gives adults a break from the toils of the workweek and children a respite from schoolwork; and the social nature of the occasion draws the public together, rekindling old friendships, forging newer connections, and encouraging the interactions of all townsfolk from every age range and socioeconomic status.[1] It is this collectivity, Schwoeffermann contends, which makes Bonfire Night and other public celebrations – Halloween among them – a vital element in the strengthening of communal networks and the promotion of intergenerational and interracial bonds. Indeed, scholars such as Lesley Pratt Bannatyne and Michael Taft attest to the cohesiveness and continuity encompassing these civic events, arguing that, unlike the family-centered festivities which constitute the majority of our holidays, Halloween holds a distinct public component, with members of communities throughout the nations that celebrate some variation of the holiday decorating their homes and businesses and welcoming costume-clad strangers with treats and toys.[2] As Mickie Mueller highlights, though, the social nature of Halloween has experienced a disheartening decline over the past several decades. By the 1980s, rumors of tampered candy and the myth of the Halloween sadist, fed by the Chicago Tylenol murders of 1982, eroded the community-wide trust of Halloween and stoked parental fears that prompted the deterioration of trick-or-treating and the prohibition of Halloween itself in several towns.[3] In an effort to save Halloween, individuals like Leonard Ashley propose communities ban together to create public havens which can alleviate safety concerns as well as reestablish and reinforce the communal connections associated with the event. The reading of Halloween-themed stories and poems at libraries, the display of child-created Halloween artwork in stores and other public venues, Halloween festivals at high schools and colleges, and the performance of Halloween plays and skits at local theaters can all, Ashley stresses, incorporate the creative works of the township and “build community spirit and goodwill at Halloween.”[4] 

Works Referenced

Ashley, Leonard. Halloween: Everything Important about the Most Popular Secular Holiday. Bloomington, IN: Xlibris, 2012.

Bannatyne, Lesley. Halloween: An American Holiday, and American History. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing Company, Inc., 1990.

Mueller, Mickie. Llewellyn’s Little Book of Halloween. Woodbury, MN: Llewellyn Publications, 2018.

Schwoeffermann, Catherine. “Bonfire Night in Brigus, Newfoundland.” Halloween and Other Festrivals of Death and Life. Ed. Jack Santino. Knoxville, TN: University of Tennessee Press, 1994. 62-81.

Taft, Michael. “Adult Halloween Celebrations on the Canadian Prairie.” Halloween and Other Festivals of Death and Life. Ed. Jack Santino. Knoxville, TN: University of Tennessee Press, 1994. 152-169.
____________________
[1] Schwoeffermann, 63-64.
[2] Taft, 164; Bannatyne, 124.
[3] Mueller, 32-34.
[4] Ashley, 358-359.