The best books about women, magic, and spirituality

Wise Women. Ancestral Worship. Charms and rituals: Thank you—to author, performer, and ritual priestess, Luisah Teish—for this reminder that “our foremothers knew things that modern science is still struggling with.”

Originally published in 1985, this eclectic mix of memoir, spiritual teachings, and practices is a delightful and accessible road map to New Orleans Voudou, which, like Jamablaya—“a spicy dish with many fine ingredients cooked together”—blends the practices of African ancestor reverence, Native American earth worship, and European Christian occultism into one tradition.

Reading this book, I find myself pulled into the mysteries of the natural and spiritual worlds, and the centuries-old traditions of the ancestors, whose voices echo through time, guiding us and blending with our own.

In these seventeen essays we meet the Yoruba river goddess Òsun, the mighty shapeshifter whose name means source, as in “the source of a river, a people, or of children...that which runs, seeps, flows, moves as water does.”

Here is the role model I’ve been hungering for! Not only a river and fertility goddess, Òsun is a holder and conveyor of political, economic, divinatory, maternal, natural, and therapeutic power; a larger-than-life Mother who is both spiritual and material, sweet and strong; a multi-faceted role model who shifts shape with every turn of her river. Immersed in her stories, I find myself leaning into those places where I, too, am fluid, my identity too vast to fit into any one shape or box.

What a delight to cozy up with the fictional island of this novel, an imagined liminal space on the border of Georgia and South Carolina, we are told “got spit out from the mouth of God, and when it fell to the earth it brought along an army of stars.” Even more delightful, we are told that when He tried to reach down and scoop them back up, He found Himself shaking hands with “the greatest conjure woman on earth.”

Thus we meet the “great, great, grand Mother” of Willow Springs, the archetypal first mother who could “grab a bolt of lightning in the palm of her hand; use the heat of the lightning to start the kindling going under her medicine pot,” and heal “the wounds of every creature.” I love how deeply feminist, mystical, and immersive this novel is: a page-turner I return to whenever I want to reconnect with my own power.

I love a biography that is as well-researched as it is immersive, and this book does not disappoint! Marie Laveau―a free woman of color who all but ruled New Orleans in the mid-1800s—may be the most legendary American practitioner of the magical arts, and in this book, Denise Alvarado—a New Orleans born, native Creole who studies African and Indigenous-based healing traditions from a personal and academic perspective—separates the myth from the fact.

Moving seamlessly between historical archives and her personal experience as a practitioner, Alvarado introduces us to the New Orleans Voodoo queen, her reign and legacy, and the spells, charms, prayers, rituals, and recipes that bring her magic to life.

As someone who writes about discovering Santería as an adult, I was enchanted to read how Hernández stumbles upon its rituals through the eyes of a child. In her father’s workroom, a gray rock with cowrie shells for eyes and a mouth that sits on a clay plate filled with candies becomes the author’s enticing introduction to Santería’s gatekeeper deity, Eleggua. In the kitchen, women read cups of water that ferry messages between the living and the santos and the dead.

“There’s nothing odd about any of this, because it has always been this way,” Hernández tells us, illuminating the ways her young self navigates her identity among the wisdom and complexities of the aunties and mother who raise her, and the “women who know” they call upon to help them find their way.