Reviewed by Gayle Williams
If you’re expecting Good Witch by Lucianne Tonti to have anything to do with Glinda from The Wizard of Oz, think again. Tonti’s focus is far more expansive. The book’s central premise is captured in its subtitle, In Search of Our Lost Feminine Power, and much of the discussion revolves around reclaiming the word witch itself — what it has meant, what it has been distorted into, and what it might signify for women today.
Tonti takes the reader through time and examines the histories of women in societies where they were deemed to be witches and why. She challenges the traditional image of the witch we may know from fairy tales and asks us to consider that women who were known as healers, gardeners, midwifes, spinsters and gossips were considered witches by male figures of authority who were threatened by their knowledge and their sense of solidarity.
Tonti has a long‑standing fascination with the witch trials that swept across Europe, America, England, Scotland, and Norway, with the Salem trials — immortalised in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible — remaining the most widely recognised. She recounts travelling with her brother, John, as they visited the sites where ordinary women were accused of witchcraft and executed. The disturbing reality that so many women “confessed” to being witches, Tonti argues, can be attributed to the brutal torture inflicted by those in power within deeply patriarchal societies.
But Good Witch is not solely a study of witch hunting. Tonti is ultimately asking what became of the skills, knowledge, and communal practices that women once held. She argues that these qualities were systematically pushed aside and suppressed, leaving women increasingly disconnected from nature and from the everyday rituals that were traditionally shared within their communities. The result, she suggests, is a loss of practices that once grounded and empowered women.
The book is organised into five sections — Gardener, Gossip, Spinster, Healer, and Nymph. Within each, Tonti weaves together chapters that include case studies of women accused of witchcraft and subsequently executed, conversations with fellow researchers, and her own reflections and personal anecdotes. She traces how historical forces — from the witch trials to the Industrial Revolution to the reign of King James VI of Scotland and I of England — collectively eroded feminine knowledge and cultural value. The result, she argues, is a long, deliberate unravelling of women’s authority, skills, and communal wisdom.
While Tonti’s insights are compelling, this is not a book that will resonate with every reader — particularly some men. Her arguments are unapologetically feminist, and at times deliberately provocative. For instance, she writes, “…it makes me wonder how and why we had let men — who couldn’t even be in charge of a little party or decorating their own apartments — be in charge of the world.” (p.120)
For readers interested in women’s history, witchcraft, feminism, nature, and the forgotten knowledge passed down through generations of women, Tonti’s work will be deeply engaging. Ultimately, it is less a book about witches than a call for women to reclaim the wisdom that history has taught them to dismiss.
Good Witch is ultimately a provocative and thoughtful exploration of what has been lost — and what might yet be reclaimed. Tonti challenges readers to reconsider what we know about women’s roles, women’s knowledge, and women’s power. Her blend of history, personal reflection, and feminist critique makes for a compelling read, even when her arguments confront or unsettle. For those willing to engage with her ideas, the book offers not just a re‑examination of the past, but an invitation to imagine a future in which women’s wisdom is recognised, valued, and restored.
Good Witch
by Lucianne Tonti
[2026]
Summit Books Australia
Paperback
ISBN: 978 1 7616 3431 4
$36.99; 307pp