A shamanistic bricolage that lifts a lantern to a kind of haunting we can’t quite exorcize, or don’t wish to. In Stag Cult Martin Shaw invites us to adventure with him:
All gnarled up inside us are people, animals and places. We peer into a bog cauldron (a name for the location of preserved bodies in peat) and witness a giant, and within him a young girl and within her a hare and within him a salmon. Through this scrying we locate secret histories.
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