Plot:
Some 200 years ago, the villagers of Meddington put to death an old woman, Magda, as a witch. She swore revenge through her crow, which had caused nasty accidents. Among the victims of the curse were Melanie Bryant and Peter Grimes, who were determined to prove the evil of the bird to the sceptical present -day villagers.
Notes:
Appeared:
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Curse of the Crow – Judy: #998 (24 February 1979) – #1006 (21 April 1979)
Interesting, having sceptical villagers who don’t believe in curses, powers or revenge of village witches while the protagonist is trying to convince them otherwise. Usually it’s superstitious, backward village idiots who think the revenge of the village witch is being enacted through the protagonist, who is hopelessly trying to instil scepticism and reason into them.
Simple solutions are not always considered by the creators of this type of situation because the plot would probably need to have been shortened to the point where the story would not have been worth publishing. The deus ex machina that I’m referring to is a rifle, or blunderbuss, and a round of bullets or slugs, the latter likely to be the more immediately successful because the spread of the slugs would almost certainly ensure the demise of the crow, whichever direction it flew away, when hearing the gun go off.
At least it leaves things ambiguous as to who was right – the villagers or the protagonists. I wouldn’t want it to end with the protagonists being right – rather, the villagers were.
Thank you for the information on how it ended!
I didn’t tell you how it ended. I couldn’t have done anyway because although I have issues 998 -1004 of JUDY, I don’t have 1005 or 1006, which contain the final two instalments of ‘Curse Of The Crow’. I was merely musing about how the villagers might rid themselves of the curse.
Well, I hope it was something like that.
Yes, with the crow plummeting down at an ever-increasing speed, before making contact with the road below. Curse removed, job done.
A seagull landed on my conservatory roof this morning while I was sitting at my desk trying to decide how to spend the day. I cursed it for startling me when I was mentally miles away, but I wouldn’t have gone out and shot it even if I owned a firearm, as it was only minding its own business. Come to think of it, I do have a curio, a rattle of the type that up to the early fifties football supporters used to take with them to matches in order to urge their team on to greater efforts. That would hopefully deter the seagulls. I wonder if they have long-term memories. If they have, I might only need to use it a handful of times.