The last time I was in Paris I stopped at Tati to pick up an Eiffel Tower charm to bring back, ironically, as a souvenir. I came back instead with a delicate filigree ornament of an open hand, of which I knew nothing except that it was “eastern” and that it carried some sort of blessing. I wore it on those days when I felt the need to be protected with forces greater than normal, and felt protected.
It wasn’t until I read Dare Me by Megan Abbott, a crime story set in the emotionally-charged world of high school cheerleading, that I learned that it was a hamsa. The amulet is resonant in Islamic, Jewish and Christian traditions. Depending on one’s beliefs, the flat palm depicted is that of Fatima daughter of Mohammed, Miriam sister of Moses, of Mary mother of God. The charm has been secularized and popularized in friendship bracelets exchanged by teenage girls. It’s often paired with a small, round glass bead that represents the evil eye, which the hamsa can ward off. In Dare Me a hamsa friendship bracelet becomes a crucial plot point when it’s gifted by a cheerleader to her coach and then spotted by that girl’s best friend, who acts out. The design of most hamsas – sort of symmetrical but not really, sort of naturalistic but not really, sometimes up and sometimes down – lends itself to inspired graphic design. My own charm is smaller than a penny and astonishingly thin, with equal parts gold and open space so that it feels like a scrap of lace. It’s hard to find an expression of this icon that isn’t lovely. Even the clumsiest ones convey its essential goodness.
