LIFTING THE VEIL OFF SPOOKY SCENTS
Happy Halloweek, dear reader.
Candy apples, sour gummies, sticky taffy and pumpkin spice—the gourmand, confectionary aromas of warm spices and Halloween treats are often at the (s)center of the season’s olfactory palette.
But what of the smells for those who tire of saccharine smells; scents for the wicked, or perfumes of the departed? Let’s dig six feet deep into the strange world of spectral scents and diabolical miasmas.
You may be aware of the term miasma, used to describe ‘an unpleasant, dirty mass of air’ or ‘a corrupting or oppressive atmosphere or feeling.’ (Oxford English Dictionary, 2025). Though the first use of the term in the English language dates to 1665, the idea that ‘bad air’ could spread physical disease and spiritual maladies can be traced back to ancient Greece. It was once more popularized during the devastating spread of the Black Death and the application of aromatic herbs in the long, beaked masks of the emblematic plague doctor.
So; in addition to the purported dangers malodour posed to their health, many of our ancient ancestors were also preoccupied with the sanctity of their very souls. Some believed that malevolent spirits could corrupt the air, announcing their presence and ill-intent through fetid aromas.
Hell and the devil himself are rumoured to smell like fire and brimstone—the archaic term for sulfur—veiled in the perfume of blood and scorched flesh. Modern practicing exorcists still relay accounts of infernal smells as part of their harrowing battles against evil. (You can read one such account here, if you’re curious).
Hell and the devil himself are rumoured to smell like fire and brimstone—the archaic term for sulfur—veiled in the perfume of blood and scorched flesh. Modern practicing exorcists still relay accounts of infernal smells as part of their harrowing battles against evil. (You can read one such account here, if you’re curious).
Witches, (in)famous cohorts of the devil, were also rumoured to reek of pestilence and corruption. In their 2024 online publication titled The Suspicious Smell of Witchcraft, author Jordan Graham cites Robin Briggs’ database The Witches of Lorraine, stating that it “contains twenty-one direct references to smell and acts of suspected witchcraft” and that “descriptions of scent helped ‘legitimize accusations’ of witchcraft and were included in testimonial.”
Other reported demonic scents include: the smell of rotting meat and decaying flesh. Blood, sweat, tears, and excrement.
An academic from Utah State University has even gone so far as to catalogue reported infernal expressions, including smells, by type, duration, and effect—citing, for example, famed paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren's encounters with ‘unspecified foul odours’ (again, the curious can read Jaye, Victoria's "In the Presence of Evil: Demonic Perception Narratives" (2021) here.)
An academic from Utah State University has even gone so far as to catalogue reported infernal expressions, including smells, by type, duration, and effect—citing, for example, famed paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren's encounters with ‘unspecified foul odours’ (again, the curious can read Jaye, Victoria's "In the Presence of Evil: Demonic Perception Narratives" (2021) here.)
Clairolfaction, clairodorance, olfactomancy, déja-sentit; the unusual phenomenon of 'psychic smelling' is a form of sensory mediumship, or the perception of otherworldly smells imperceivable to ohers.
Scents may serve as a psychic warning, divine occurrence, or as fragrant echoes from the departed— metaphysical intakes of information through inhalation and breath, where the unseen enters the body as a form of communication from unseen worlds.
Fast forward to the 19th century, a new, esoteric phenomenon has taken the curious bourgeois and scientific communities by storm; spiritualism, a practice based on communication with the spirits of the dead. Loss wasn’t uncommon in the nineteenth century; the bereaved longed to reunite with the departed, while high society clamoured for a good show. Mediumship—the art of communicating with or becoming a conduit for the deceased–evolved into elaborate spectacles; a series of ‘parlour tricks’, claimed skeptics, designed to dupe the masses.
One such spectacular feat was the production of ectoplasm, a “supernatural viscous substance exuded from the body of a medium during a spiritualistic trance”—a physical manifestation of spirits from beyond. Witness accounts recorded during séances included reports of foul smells emanating from the diaphanous clouds streaming from the mediums’ mouths, noses, chests and lower cavities, including the scent of semen and rancid fat.
How delightful! Now a well-studied curiosity of its time, ectoplasm was debunked as all too material; stinking yards of muslin, paper, and cheesecloth imbued with a variety of substances such as animal fat or egg whites.
How delightful! Now a well-studied curiosity of its time, ectoplasm was debunked as all too material; stinking yards of muslin, paper, and cheesecloth imbued with a variety of substances such as animal fat or egg whites.
Last in our strange tour of ghoulish aromas, we pivot back toward the world of the corporeal, where truth is smellier than fiction. The titan arum, commonly called the corpse flower, is a towering sentinel of putrescence; a botanical monolith with infrequent blooming periods that draw attention from around the world. The occasion lasts a mere few days, unfurling in a putrid spectacle of mulberry hues and carrion stench once every several years. This unusual flower also emanates heat, which helps spread its perfume of rotting flesh on the air and attract pollinators.
And so ends our short foray down winding paths, at the crossroads of perfume, historical oddities, and botanica obscura—at least for today. There are several more strange and fragrant rabbit holes one could tumble down should they be enticed to look.