Before Molly Aitken started to draft her sophomore novel, Bright I Burn, she often engaged in a curious ritual where she would light a candle and call upon the spirit of her main character. However, one day, an unusual incident took place.
“I felt a voice whispering into my ear as though somebody was standing right next to me,” she explains in hushed tones, “asking, ‘are you scared of me?'”
To this unexpected inquiry, Aitken responded affirmatively, aloud.
“Afterwards, I sensed a movement around me as though she was pacing and then halting in front of me. She reminded me of a child-like figure. And then she [uttered], ‘I’m scared of myself too’.”
This understanding became a pivotal point for Aitken.
“This was an abnormal experience for me. That’s not my usual writing routine. But I felt like, since she was a real individual, I had the responsibility of telling her story in a way that she would appreciate.”
Bright I Burn, staged in the medieval era of Kilkenny, is a creative retelling of Alice Kyteler’s life, the foremost individual in Ireland’s history to be accused of witchcraft. The story narrates the journey of a fearless, goal-driven woman – a financier, a mother, and a multiple times spouse, whose infamous reputation turns into a threat.
Aitken, who resided in Perth, Scotland till the age of eight (her father is Scottish, her mother Irish), had been contemplating the history of witch burnings in Perth. Concurrently, she was intrigued by “untold tales of Irish women”. She stumbled upon an article on Irish witches during an online search, that listed “Ireland’s notorious witches”, featuring Alice Kyteler.
“I found myself obsessing over her. It felt akin to being haunted … In contrast to my debut book, where I adored hearing my narrator’s voice, the experience this time was significantly more unsettling.”
[ Witches of Ireland: A rundown of the country’s most infamous witches ]
Aitken’s book paints a vibrant picture of medieval Ireland, bringing aspects like its unique traditions, the escalating power of the clergy, and local chatter to life. It conveys an increasing sense of looming death and violence, prominent both in nature’s severity and mankind’s cruelty. The protagonist Alice emerges as a strong-willed individual with a proclivity for ruthlessness.
“I was intrigued to explore her morally grey decisions,” shares author Aitken. “What was her impetus? How did she grapple with it? It’s compelling to write about a character whose actions are known but motives remain elusive. It involves an element of delving into their psyche and unraveling motivations.”
The book not only centres around Alice Kyteler but also breathes life into several other historical personalities from the 13th and 14th century Ireland, such as Petronilla de Meath, who is depicted as Alice’s young helper and alleged co-conspirator. Both women have been recurrently referenced throughout history in literature and art, including a mention of “Lady Kyteler” in Yeats’ poem ‘Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen’ and Petronilla’s inclusion in Judy Chicago’s 1970s feminist art installation, ‘The Dinner Party’.
One of the most significant yet questionable accounts of their tale has been put forth by Bishop Richard Ledrede, the initiator of the trial against Alice. “His version of events, in my opinion, is blatantly sexist and misogynistic,” Aitken critiques. “From my interpretation, he took a perverse pleasure in torturing others and harboured a strange sexual obsession regarding women. He disliked Alice’s power in an era where he desired control and influence. His bias is evident in the narrative surrounding her, warped by his viewpoint.”
Through his own lens, Aitken frames the story as an exploration of “a woman’s wrath.”
The topic of female anger isn’t widely accepted yet, although the situation is gradually changing, but not at the speed we would desire. The ambition and anger of Alice Kyteler, which largely led to her demonization, is the subject of the book I had always sought to write. I am under the impression that we haven’t made as much progress as we purport in allowing women to freely express their feelings or exhibit visible ambition. The medieval Ireland environment does not appear to be far removed in this aspect.
The emphasis of the book is also on Alice Kyteler’s financial acumen. She is depicted as a clever financier who would take any necessary step to safeguard her wealth.
The creation of the book, written while nursing, might have had an impact on the content, leading to brief chapters and lending a somewhat restless feel, which some have likened to feverishness – the result of sleep deprivation.
I was entranced with the notion of Alice Kyteler being a wealth hoarder. I believe that such money-minded females are rarely portrayed in literature, and it was quite an appealing aspect of her personality. The general conception is that desiring wealth is not appropriate, but in that era, wealth signified freedom, leisure, and a chance at survival instead of early death.
When meeting Aitken over a cup of coffee at a hotel in Dublin, she’s merely stopping over from Sheffield, where she resides with her spouse and young son. On my approach, she was engrossed in Claire Keegan’s Small Things Like These and donned vintage garments, among which was a green velvet jacket, a congratulatory gift she purchased for herself after publishing her debut novel, The Island Child (Canongate, 2020). Later, she would be headed to West Cork for a friend’s nuptials – She grew up majorly in Ballydehob.
Home is not an easily defined term for Aitken. She’s a native of Scotland, moved to Ireland at eight, lived in Kildare for a while, then shifted to the rebel county around the commencement of secondary school. Following Steiner system education, which sharply emphasizes storytelling, she studied English and Classics in Galway, then earned an MFA in creative writing from Bath Spa.
Aitken shares a complex intimacy with her Irish origins. The sensation of not entirely belonging whether in her homeland or her birthplace, Scotland, where her father hails from, is a feeling she believes resonates with many artists, as the constant sensation of being out of place can be quite common. This has been reflected in Aitken’s career, with both her novels thus far being situated in Ireland. ‘The Island Child’, a mythical narrative based on a make-believe island on the western coastline, received recognition by being shortlisted for the Authors Club First Novel Award. It was crafted amidst Aitken’s MFA and an early draft was influential in her securing representation from Janklow and Nesbit, a literary agency. The subsequent year, she committed to refining and editing the manuscript while maintaining a job in advertising. Not long after this, she managed to secure a publishing deal.
All seemed rather straightforward by industry standards, until her second novel, ‘Bright I Burn’, where the journey took a different turn.
After presenting her second novel to the editor, she was told it was too divergent from her first. She had written a modern version of Cupid and Psyche. However, it didn’t align with the image that she had begun to carve out as a writer. After discussions, they decided it would be best if she continued in the same vein due to the unusual timings of her first book(Via lockdown).
The notion of going back to the drawing board couldn’t have been easy after all the sweat and tears. Aitken admits it was a struggle, but working in the industry she has a keen understanding of its demands, the balance of passion and profitability. It’s a symbiotic relationship that perhaps goes unmentioned more often than it should.
During this trying period, Aitken was also in the advanced stages of her pregnancy with her son, Orion. The task of writing a new novel before giving birth seemed daunting, so much of ‘Bright I Burn’ was penned postpartum. No easy task, given the new demands of motherhood.
As Aitkin breastfed and wrote simultaneously, she believes it influenced her writing style. Her working hours were irregular due to motherhood duties and lack of sleep, resulting in the brevity of her chapters and a somewhat frenzied tone to her work according to some. Motherhood is a recurring theme in her writing, which is evident in most of her short stories and her debut novel.
Aitken’s mother, an artist, played a significant role in shaping Aitken’s approach to writing. Her mother’s knack for spotting beauty in everyday things has influenced her own writing style. Similarly, her mother’s sensitivity towards colours is mirrored in Aitken’s use of repetitive colour themes in her work like the use of red in ‘Bright I Burn’ and blue in ‘The Island Child’. Now she’s working on a book with the primary colour of yellow. She uses this technique to maintain some focus amidst the chaos of writing.
The next novel she is embarking on is centered around Romulus and Remus’s mother. This project is part of her PhD work at Sheffield Hallam University, with a focus on inventive methods of piecing together history.
Aitken is critical of the traditional methods of recording history, noting that it tends to be skewed towards the male, often wealthy, point of view. She argues that this approach simplifies history too much. She is an advocate for finding innovative ways to bring forth the voices from the past who were either unable to put their stories down on paper, or those whose stories were destroyed. She sees creative writing as a key tool to give old stories new life.
‘Bright I Burn’ by Molly Aitken is available, published by Canongate.”