From Homer’s Circe to the Wizard of Oz, this book is a tour de force through the stereotypes, evolution, and characterisation of the witch figure and witchcraft in Western culture. In The First Witches, Prescott explores the intersection of gender, power, and the supernatural in the Greco-Roman imagination. Engaging and accessible, this study is tailored for non-specialist readers – particularly those interested in myth, ancient literature, and cultural history. Although it effectively introduces several key figures and concepts, it sometimes struggles with academic precision, particularly in distinguishing between literary intertextuality and genuine reflections of social attitudes in antiquity.

The book is structured around four central chapters, each focussing on an iconic female figure associated with witchcraft or supernatural power in classical sources. These figures – Hecate, Circe, the Thessalian witches, and Erichto (but not Medea, who is only the subject matter of a three-page paragraph in the introduction) – serve as case studies for how ancient authors constructed and interpreted female magical power. The fifth chapter examines both the legacy and evolution of the classical witch from medieval Slavic popular folktales to Hollywood renditions of the witch like in The Wizard of Oz and Disney’s Snow White. A brief introduction and conclusion frame these case studies within broader themes of classical reception, gender politics, and the enduring fascination with women who transgress normative boundaries. The book ends with three short appendixes (on necromancy, common tropes, and Victorian witches), 35 pages of notes, and an index (5 pages) of key names and themes. The book has been edited well with very few typos (for instance, Diodorus wrote the Bibliotheca Historica rather than Historia!).

The term ‘witch’ is problematic in Greek. There is no single ancient Greek word meaning ‘witch’; pharmakeus/pharmakis is the closest. Equally, the use of magical herbs is found in ancient Greek literature for different purposes. Compare, for instance, in the Odyssey, Helen who uses magic to soothe her guests, against Circe, who uses herbs to transform hers, or indeed Hermes, who shows Odysseus how to use the magic moly for protection.

The book under review opens with Hecate, the chthonic goddess often linked to magic, crossroads, and the night. Prescott traces the evolution of Hecate from her ambiguous status in early Greek literature – where she appears as a protective, liminal figure – to her more definitive association with witchcraft in later traditions. The chapter contextualizes Hecate’s mythological presence, noting how she became increasingly demonized or revered in association with magical rites. The author emphasises her symbolic power rather than her narrative agency, portraying Hecate more as a focal point for other characters’ magical activity than as an actor in her own right. Chapter two turns to Homer’s Odyssey, where Circe famously transforms Odysseus’s men into animals. Prescott reads Circe as a foundational literary witch – a figure who uses her knowledge and autonomy to challenge male authority. Rather than merely seeing Circe as evil or dangerous, the chapter explores her complexity: both a seductress and a helper, she represents the double-edged nature of female power in classical thought. The third chapter moves from myth to folklore and reported ritual practice. Thessalian witches, often portrayed in Latin literature as fearsome women who can control the moon and resurrect the dead, occupy a liminal space between fantasy and belief. Prescott discusses their prominent role in Roman satire and elegy, focussing on how these women were imagined as outsiders who used forbidden knowledge. The chapter addresses the perceived threat of female practitioners of magic to social and political order, suggesting that these stories reflect deep anxieties about gender and control. However, this chapter also marks a shift in tone – moving further from primary evidence and towards interpretive speculation. At times, the treatment feels more centrifugal than centred, as it draws on a broad set of texts without always grounding the analysis in clear historical context. Erichto, a necromancer described by Lucan in the Pharsalia, takes centre stage in the final and darkest chapter. Prescott presents her as an archetype of horror – an emaciated, death-haunted woman who dwells on battlefields and commands corpses. Erichto is a grotesque embodiment of the ultimate outsider, both morally and physically. This chapter offers a compelling look at how Roman authors used witches to articulate chaos, civil strife, and moral decay. Yet here again, the discussion sometimes blurs the boundary between literary function and cultural belief. While the character of Erichto serves a powerful rhetorical role in Lucan’s epic, it is less clear whether she reflects any widespread historical conceptions of witchcraft or womanhood. This distinction could have been more carefully addressed.

Prescott’s work is commendable for its clear prose, narrative drive, and choice of subject matter. She effectively weaves mythological analysis with literary interpretation, providing readers with a tour through the most iconic witch-figures of antiquity. Teachers and general readers will find the material stimulating, especially for discussions of gender roles, ancient religion, and the construction of power through storytelling.

However, from a critical standpoint, one limitation of the book is its occasional conflation of literary intertextuality with historical insight. Ancient texts often repurpose and echo one another for poetic, political, or philosophical reasons. Without a more rigorous distinction between these intertextual gestures and real evidence of social attitudes, the analysis risks overstating the continuity or coherence of ancient views on witches and magic. For instance, the transition from Circe to Erichto involves very different genres, authors, and periods, yet they are sometimes treated as part of a continuous narrative of witchcraft. A clearer demarcation of these boundaries would have strengthened the academic reliability of the work without sacrificing accessibility.

Furthermore, some sections seem peripheral to the book’s central thesis. Lengthy discussions of reception history or loosely connected myths, while interesting, occasionally distract from the core exploration of classical witch figures. These diversions may enrich the reader’s experience, but they also dilute the thematic coherence of the argument.

In sum, The First Witches is a valuable contribution for those looking to understand how ancient texts shaped the Western imagination of female magic and power. While its analysis would benefit from more precise distinctions between literary devices and cultural realities, it succeeds in opening a dialogue about the lasting power of mythic women on the margins. For general readers, educators, and students, Prescott provides an accessible, thought-provoking entry point into the classical world’s most enduringly provocative figures.