Given that it's #FolkloreThursday, I thought I might tell you a story about witches and fart runes (yes, fart runes) from the #Westfjords of #Iceland. THREAD 
The Westfjords are a large peninsula in northwestern Iceland, one of the truly remote regions of the country. Only 7,000 people live in an area roughly half the size of Scotland. No wonder that this remote region has for centuries been associated with dark arts and witchcraft.
The main attraction here is the solitude and breathtaking scenery: the cliffs at Látrabjarg comprise the longest bird cliff in the northern Atlantic Ocean, and the uninhabited and dramatic Hornstrandir peninsula is a hiking paradise for those seeking solitude in summer.
But dark magic is showing everywhere: in Hólmavík, the largest town in the Strandir region with around 500 inhabitants, is Strandagalur, the Museum of Sorcery & Witchcraft.
Post-Reformation, the use of magic spells became more prominent here. Between 1654 and 1690 a large number of court cases connected to the use of magic symbols was recorded, though most of these cases had to do with white magic, the way of using magic for your own benefit.
Not that it mattered to the authorities: between 1625 and 1686, nearly 200 people were charged for use of magic or possession of a magic book; more than 20, the majority of them men, were sentenced to death on the stake, and the period became known as Brennuöld (The Age of Fire).
The story I wanted to tell takes place in Ísafjörður, the capital of the Westfjords, in 1659.
Local Lutheran pastor Jón Magnússon (c. 1610 – 1696) had been in poor health for two years when he decided that both his illness, as well as demonic disturbances reported in his household, were brought upon him by two local men, a father and son both named Jón Jónsson.
After he had them both arrested, the elder Jón confessed to owning a book of spells, while the son confessed to have made the pastor ill by using so-called farting runes (Fretrúnir) against a girl. Both were found guilty of sorcery and executed by burning at the stake.
The story does not end yet: after the men were executed, Jón was awarded all their belongings, but the disturbances & his illness did not cease. He then accused Þuríður Jónsdóttir, the daughter/sister of the Jónssons, of witchcraft. The fragility of men (and the church), right?
For lack of evidence the case could not be decided locally and ended up before the Alþing (the Icelandic parliament), where it was dismissed and Þuríður set free. She then countersued for wrongful persecution and was awarded the pastor's belongings as compensation in return.
Jón Magnússon was however still convinced of his hauntings (which, strangely, eventually seized) and recorded his torments as well as the alleged sources in the Píslarsaga (1659, published in English as And Though This World With Devils Filled: A Story Of Sufferings in 2007).
This obscure saga is one of the key sources of witch trials in the Westfjords written by a participant, and the trial itself also inspired a film by Hrafn Gunnlaugsson in 1999, entitled Myrkrahöfðinginn (The Prince of Darkness).
Beware the fragility of men & watch out for fart runes the next time you're in the Westfjords ;) Here's also some shameless self-promotion: you will find many more such stories in my book "Iceland - A Literary Guide for Travellers" out now: bloomsbury.com/uk/iceland-978… /ENDS
