On the surface, Roald Dahl’s The Witches (1983) appears to be a simple fantasy: a boy, his wise Norwegian grandmother, and a plot to turn England’s children into mice. But beneath its surface of magic and mischief lies one of the most subversive, psychologically astute, and surprisingly empathetic works in children’s literature. Unlike many stories that soften the dangers of the adult world, The Witches stares directly into its abyss, then teaches its reader how to laugh at it.
The Witches has not been without controversy, particularly regarding its portrayal of the Grand High Witch as a cruel, manipulative figure with a bald head and “talons”—a description that has, in film adaptations, veered into unfortunate antisemitic caricature. Dahl himself denied the connection, but the visual echoes remain a problematic shadow on an otherwise progressive text. The Witches
What prevents The Witches from becoming merely traumatic is Dahl’s signature grotesque humor. The Grand High Witch, with her “fiery” temper and her plot to turn children into hot dogs, is a monstrous caricature. The descriptions of the witches’ conference—scratching their wigs, peeling off their gloves, removing their eye-baths—are disgusting and hilarious. Dahl uses laughter to drain the witches of their power. The more we laugh at their bald, clawed absurdity, the less we fear them. On the surface, Roald Dahl’s The Witches (1983)