Cover

THE

SIN

EATER

MEGAN CAMPISI

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Sin eaters existed in parts of Britain until roughly a century ago. How many and who they were, apart from being social pariahs, is almost entirely lost. What we know is that they ate a piece of bread beside people’s coffins to absolve their sins in a folk ritual with Christian resonances.

The story I’ve written starts with this sliver but is spun out of fantasy. Some of the characters resemble historical figures, but this is not history; it’s fiction.

A SELECTION FROM

A Compendium of Diverse Sins Both Large and Small and Their According Foods

ROYAL FAMILY TREE

BEFORE

OAT PORRIDGE

SALT FOR PRIDE. Mustard seed for lies. Barley for curses. There are grapes too, laid red and bursting across the pinewood coffin – one grape split with a ruby seed poking through the skin like a splinter through flesh. There’s crow’s meat stewed with plums and a homemade loaf, small and shaped like a bobbin. Why a loaf in such a shape? I think. And why so small? There are other foods too, but not many. My mother had few sins. She was a fox, running from the scent of trouble with wary eyes and soft feet. Tussling only when she was sure she’d win. The salt, mustard seeds, and barley grains are the only foods I know the sins for. They’re for childhood sins, the kind parents chasten you with or children sing rhymes for in the street.

Little Jack Horner,

Sat in the corner,

Eating a winter pie.

He ate all its meat,

For being a cheat,

And said, ‘Now a good boy am I.’