Coercive Control and Cult Indoctrination in The Book of Witching

The Machinery of Control: Coercive Control and Cult Indoctrination in The Book of Witching

In The Book of Witching, C.J. Cooke weaves two timelines—a modern pagan cult in Scotland and a 1594 Orkney witch trial—into a single meditation on how coercive control operates. The novel’s central claim is that both a charismatic cult and an authoritarian state use the same toolkit: isolation, information control, ritualized fear, and the systematic dismantling of a person’s identity. Whether through the Brother’s “scholarship” or Father Colville’s needles, the goal is identical—to replace an individual’s will with obedience to the group’s authority. By tracing this theme across Erin’s recruitment into the Triskele, Alison Balfour’s torture, and the lingering influence of the titular book, the novel shows that coercion is not a single act but a process that erodes free will from the inside out.

The Cult’s Seductive Trap: Erin and the Triskele

Erin’s entry into the Triskele is a textbook case of love-bombing and incremental isolation. She meets Senna online, and the friendship feels like a lifeline—Senna shares her interests in paganism, tarot, and environmental activism. The group’s leader, the Brother, personally invites Erin to a weekender, and she is swept up by the sense of belonging. The novel makes clear that the Triskele’s appeal is not sinister at first: “Triskele was like coming home,” Erin thinks, and she is drawn to the feminist edge and the rewilding work. But the recruitment is carefully staged. Senna preemptively denies the cult label: “It’s not a cult,” she says, before Erin has even asked. This inoculation against criticism is a classic indoctrination tactic—it frames outside skepticism as narrow-mindedness.

The Brother’s “scholarship” then tightens the grip. He demands total information control: “No Google searches. No reading anti-Triskele stuff.” He tells Erin to quit school and university, to cut off non-Triskele friends, and to hide the group from her family because “they won’t get it.” This is the classic isolation phase—severing ties to the outside world so that the group becomes the sole source of reality. The scholarship itself is designed to exhaust and reward: a six-hundred-page text read three times, oral exams, and a panel that can fail her. When she passes, she cries with relief, a relief that binds her even more tightly to the group’s approval.

The Crossing ritual is the culmination of this control. Erin is told she must have sex with a stranger, Arlo, in front of an audience. She hesitates, but Senna’s reassurance and the Brother’s framing of it as a test of courage override her objections. The novel shows how coercion works through social pressure and the fear of being seen as a coward or traitor. Erin’s internal monologue—her body wanting to run, her mind rationalizing—captures the split between instinct and indoctrinated belief. The drugged drink and the masked circle complete the ritual, making her complicit in her own submission.

Historical Coercion: Alison Balfour’s Interrogation

The historical timeline offers a more brutal, overt form of coercive control. Alison Balfour is accused of witchcraft, and the interrogation scene in Chapter Ten shows how the state uses physical torture to manufacture confession. Father Colville probes her body with a needle, searching for the “Devil’s mark.” He finds a spot under her tongue and declares it evidence, despite her protests. The novel emphasizes that the mark is created by the interrogation itself—the needle wound becomes proof of guilt. This is a chilling parallel to the cult’s manufactured rituals: both create the evidence they claim to find.

The psychological manipulation is equally systematic. Father Colville and John Stewart interpret a shadow in the cell window as a hare, then as the Devil himself. They force Alison to witness their interpretation, and she begins to doubt her own senses: “Was it really the Devil? Or was it my own mind, so influenced by the pronouncements of the men that I thought I saw it?” This is the core of coercive control—the victim’s reality is overwritten by the authority’s narrative. The men’s insistence that the hare is Satan serves to isolate Alison further, making her believe that even the supernatural is aligned against her.

The torture escalates to sleep deprivation and forced walking, as shown in Chapter Thirteen. Alison is kept awake, kicked when she sways, and denied rest. Her mind becomes “swampy with dreams,” and she loses the ability to distinguish her own thoughts from the men’s accusations. This is a direct parallel to the cult’s exhausting scholarship and the Brother’s five-hour monologues—both are designed to break down cognitive resistance. The novel’s Author’s Note reveals that Alison only confessed after her husband, son, and daughter were tortured, a detail that underscores how coercion targets not just the individual but their entire web of attachments.

The Erosion of Identity and the Book’s Lingering Grip

The theme reaches its most complex expression in Erin’s gradual disillusionment and the supernatural influence of the Book of Witching. By Chapter Fifty-Three, Erin is a mother, and the cult’s demands have become unbearable. The Brother berates her for missing meetings, demands her maternity pay, and shames her for being exhausted. She finally says the word out loud: “It is a cult. They control everything we do.” This recognition is not a sudden epiphany but a slow accumulation of small coercions—the art workshop she is forced to run, the guilt trips, the financial exploitation. The novel shows that coercive control often works through mundane, everyday pressures rather than dramatic rituals.

The Book of Witching itself becomes a symbol of this control. Erin is given the book by the Brother, and it begins to haunt her—she hears whisperings, and once wakes up standing over her mother with scissors. The book’s influence is both psychological and supernatural, blurring the line between indoctrination and possession. When she tries to return it after the Brother’s suicide, she is ignored. The book’s power persists beyond the cult’s structure, suggesting that coercive control can outlive its original authority. The epilogue reinforces this: four years later, Freya finds the book hidden in a LEGO box, and a voice instructs her to open it and then to scream. The cycle of coercion is poised to repeat, now targeting the next generation.

Symbols as Instruments of Control

The novel uses its central symbols to reinforce the theme. The triskele symbol, which gives the cult its name, is a three-spiral motif that suggests unity and motion. But in the context of the cult, it becomes a badge of belonging that also marks members as separate from the outside world—a visual reminder of the group’s boundary. The hare, which appears in Alison’s cell, is a symbol of cunning and transformation, but the interrogators twist it into evidence of Satanic influence. The novel shows how symbols can be weaponized: what is innocent in one context becomes damning in another. Fire appears in both timelines—the cult’s bonfires and torches, the candles in Alison’s cell—as a tool of intimidation and ritual. Fire creates heat, light, and fear, and it is used to control the physical and emotional atmosphere of both the Crossing and the interrogation.

Complexity and Contradiction

The novel resists a simple binary between victim and villain. Erin is not merely a passive victim; she is complicit in her own indoctrination, rationalizing the Crossing and even defending the group to herself. The Brother is not a cartoonish villain; he is a man who believes in his own ideology, and his suicide complicates the narrative of pure exploitation. Similarly, Alison’s interrogators are not simply evil—they are products of a society that genuinely believes in witchcraft. The novel’s Author’s Note mentions that Alison’s retraction was recorded, which a professor suggests indicates the prosecution lost control. This detail suggests that even within a coercive system, there are moments of resistance and fracture. The book itself is ambiguous: is it a supernatural entity, or is it a psychological projection of Erin’s guilt and fear? The novel leaves this open, suggesting that coercion can be internalized so deeply that the victim cannot distinguish between external pressure and their own desires.

Study Questions

1. How does the Triskele’s recruitment process mirror the tactics of real-world cults?

The Triskele uses love-bombing (Senna’s friendship), information control (the ban on Google searches), isolation (cutting off family and friends), and ritualized commitment (the scholarship and Crossing). These are classic indoctrination techniques that create dependency and erode critical thinking.

1. In what ways does Alison Balfour’s interrogation parallel Erin’s experience with the cult?

Both involve the systematic dismantling of identity through exhaustion, fear, and the imposition of an external narrative. Alison is tortured physically and psychologically; Erin is manipulated through social pressure and emotional guilt. Both are forced to accept a version of reality that serves their oppressors.

1. What role does the Book of Witching play in the theme of coercive control?

The book acts as a tangible symbol of the cult’s influence, outlasting the Brother’s death and continuing to exert power over Erin and later Freya. It represents the internalization of control—the voice that tells you what to do even when no one is watching.

1. How does the novel complicate the idea of victimhood?

Erin is both a victim and a participant; she rationalizes the Crossing and even feels relief at passing her exams. Alison, too, is not simply innocent—she is accused, but the novel shows her as a complex person with her own agency. This complexity suggests that coercive control works by making victims complicit in their own subjugation.

1. What does the epilogue suggest about the long-term effects of coercive control?

The epilogue shows Freya discovering the book and being commanded to scream, implying that the cycle of control can be passed down to the next generation. It suggests that coercive control is not easily broken—it can persist through objects, memories, and even family lines, unless actively resisted.