Everyone Knows Your Mother Is a Witch

This is a bit of an atypical historical fiction, being set not in a royal court but a small village in medieval Germany. It's based on real events, in which the mother of an imperial mathematician was accused of witchcraft. Katharina, the mother in question, is a funny, vivid character that makes this book compelling despite the underlying sadness of the narrative.

Katharina Kepler is illiterate, so it is her neighbor, friend, and legal guardian Simon who writes down her account of being accused of and tried for witchcraft. Simon doesn't like to stand out or attract attention to himself, but he feels a sense of obligation to Katharina, so he commits himself to standing by her in her troubles. He goes with her to the court, speaks up for her in his understated way, and writes down verbatim what she recounts as her experience.

Katharina's narrative includes her sharp evaluations of all the people involved, and sometimes whimsical preoccupations. Her principle accuser, the glazier's wife, she call the Werewolf. The Werewolf's brother she calls the Cabbage. The local governor, whose name is Einhorn, she calls the False Unicorn. She dotes on her cow, Chamomile, and offers medical advice to anyone who seems to be ailing. In many ways she is an easy target for people who resent her, and she refuses to change her behavior in the face of the accusations against her. Her son, the astronomer Johannes Kepler, is also a strike against her, since he published theologically suspect writings and is at odds with the Lutheran and Catholic churches.

The book alternates between Katharina's narrative (as written by Simon), personal notes inserted by Simon about his own state of mind, and testimony from witnesses that appears in questionnaire form. It's funny, maddening, and sad, and also the most enjoyable book I've read this summer.

Inspired by some historical non-fiction focused on German astronomer Johannes Kepler, this is far more fun than a 17th century witch hunt should be. Katharina Kepler is an independently wealthy widower who loves her cow Chamomile, swears by her herbal remedies, and has raised some capable children, one who has gone on to big city fame as the Imperial Mathematician. Clearly she's a witch!

Accused of poisoning Ursula Reinbold, a Leonberg Karen with eyes on Kepler's wealth and fuelled by a not insignificant amount of petty jealousy, Katharina is quick to dismiss the outlandish claims. But apparently you don't need social media and infotainment channels to stoke the fires of fake news. Pretty soon folks are coming out of the woodwork, certain that in light of this new information previously benign incidents could in fact be attributed to Katharina's witchy powers. After all, according to some residents, “The matter of how we came to know is simple — we already knew.” Who can argue with logic like that?

With the help of her neighbour Simon, Katharina shrugs aside the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and embarks on a warm and witty defence, going high when they go low. Four centuries later it still echoes our current climate.