Santa Morte: Holy Death in Eurpoe

 

Growing up in an Italian-American family I saw a lot of death. Most of my aunts and uncles were geriatric so there was a funeral every six months. They died of cancer, of pneumonia, of calculated risks. When that happened everyone came. We had relatives in distance states who would fly in for the occasion. I remember the funeral home most of all, an old Italian place in a rusty part of town. Everything about it depressed me, the carpet, the lights, the eternally overcast sky. Nothing ever changed at Rossi's.

I preferred the churches and cemeteries, high ceilings and open sky, a promise of lunch afterwords. Catholic churches rarely depressed me, not even the older ones with their darker windows and stony floors. Recently I stumbled across some Italian churches built specifically for the dead. Santa Maria dell'Orazione e Morte is probably the most famous, carved with skull motifs and winged time pieces. Similar shrines appear elsewhere in Italy, built to house friars and corpses of the abandoned or unknown. We could say death was familiar to the people who visited and built these churches. They were used to it, considering the shear number of plague victims throughout Europe.

Consider the following images from Santa Maria Della Concezione where an order of 4,000 dead monks line the walls. Now look a little closer at the photo to the right, depicting a tall skeleton with scythe and scales. Does any of this seem familiar? Could it be an ancestress, a forerunner of Mexico's death saint Santisima Muerte, the arcane spectre we know from botanica windows and head shops?  Shortly after researching this, I began spotting references to Italian death sprites like Dea Mors and the Greek Fate Atropos.  In most stories they were linked to Europe's dark Carnivals and a more obsucre figure from European legend called Santa Morte, or Saint Death. 

　

Most of what we know about Holy Death (Santisima Muerte) comes from Brujeria (Mexican Witchcraft) and Curanderismo. She is a product of syncreticism, believed to be linked to the Aztec spirit Mictecacihuatl. According to tradition, she is the archangel of death. Like the Madonna, she arrives in a variety of forms, each petitioned for different needs. La Blanca (White) has the power to heal and existed before Genesis.  La Roja (Red) is called upon for romantic endeavors, being the form she took when Adam and Eve made love in the Garden. She is also petioned for financial needs. La Negra (Black) is the form she took once Cain killed Abel.  She is petitioned for defense, murder and protection.

More recently, I became the student of a woman raised in an Italian folkloric tradition.  She agreed to teach me her family's blend of Stregheria.  One summer afternoon she mentioned "The Lady of Silence."  As it turns out, this Lady is one and the same with Santa Morte.  My teacher even referred to her as the Angel of Death.  While she isn't featured in every form of Stregheria, we do refer to her in our own, where she sits on my altar as The Lady of Silence.  What can  I tell you about this folk saint as she's petioned by Italian witches?  Very little.  Due to traditional Stregheria's renown security, we take special measures to preserve any symbolism and structure from traditions who might adapt them and misrepresent the stories or rituals in translation.  I can tell you that The Lady entertains her own fresh symbolism and a place in our credo. 

Concerning her influence over Santisima Muerte and Latin America, consider Spain's invasion of Mexico. Could it be possible that The Lady of Silence, a relic of Europe's Carnivals, influenced Brujeria and our modern understanding of Santisima Muerte? I think it's very likely, and find myself viewing her--and my family's customs--in a fuller, brighter light. Furthermore, if anyone works with this saint or has any additional texts, I'd love to hear from you. Please contact me or leave a note below.