Adam Stout sets himself an ambitious task: to trace the biography of Glastonbury's Holy Thorn, a contested religious symbol that has shifted meanings over 500 years. Folklore eventually connected the Thorn to the biblical figure of Joseph of Arimathea, alleged founder of Glastonbury; it was said to have sprouted from his staff, thrust into Wirral Hill. But the Thorn first attracted attention for its ability to flower twice a year, both in spring and at Christmas, connecting it indelibly with Christ's nativity. The Glastonbury Holy Thorn is a form of common hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna “Biflora”), and only grafted specimens retain the special propensity for flowering twice annually. These grafted specimens are short-lived and survive for no more than a century. The survival of the Glastonbury Holy Thorn over many centuries, therefore, reflects the careful nurturing of both the legend and the local cultivar.

In telling the story of the Holy Thorn, Stout adopts an accessible style that is pitched to appeal to local audiences, including the diverse range of spiritual seekers who are drawn to Glastonbury. The author is both a local resident and a historian who has written extensively on Glastonbury, including episodes from its medieval and later history, as well as its role in the emergence of “alternative” archaeology. He is sympathetic and respectful of those who invest spiritual significance in the Holy Thorn, but he largely adopts the neutrality of a trained historian. He describes his objective as fact-based, local history aimed predominantly at local people. There is no central thesis or complex methodology to the book; he states merely that he has attempted to steer a course between the two extremes of “flimsy theorists” and the “overly scholastic” (2). He evaluates the significance of the Thorn within the context of national religious and political currents, but his account is distinctive in bringing local stories to the fore.

The book is structured in five chapters as a linear, chronological narrative, stretching from the sixteenth-century origins of the legend to its varied re-imaginings in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. It is informed by primary sources ranging from early religious pamphlets to recent “Avalonian” art, fiction, and poetry. The text is amply illustrated with black and white images and color plates, including fascinating scenes from the 1906 Butleigh Revel, a local staging of the legendary history of Glastonbury. While designed to be accessible, the text is thoroughly referenced and grounded in academic context. For example, Stout's starting point for examining the origins of the Holy Thorn myth is Alexandra Walsham's important article, recognizing that the Reformation inspired a new phase of myth creation at Glastonbury (“The Holy Thorn of Glastonbury: The Evolution of a Legend in Post-Reformation England,” Parergon 21, no. 2 [2004]: 1–25); meanwhile, his discussion of the Holy Thorn's role in facilitating ecumenical relationships in contemporary Glastonbury owes much to the religious scholar Marion Bowman (“The Holy Thorn Ceremony: Revival, Rivalry and Civil Religion in Glastonbury,” Folklore 117, no. 2 [August 2006]: 123–140).

Stout traces historical evidence for the Thorn legend in chronological sequence. This is important detective work, given the vast literature on Glastonbury that often repeats errors and misconceptions. The first chapter tracks the emergence of the legend from 1520 and considers whether it might have developed from an earlier tradition for the abbey to venerate flowering trees associated with the cult of the Virgin. The connection between the Holy Thorn and Joseph of Arimathea was not recorded until 1633, by which time Joseph was hailed as a national Protestant symbol, while the flowering of the Thorn at Christmas was regarded very much as a Catholic miracle. The fate of the Thorn waxed and waned throughout the seventeenth century, having become associated with royal ceremony and Christmas traditions that were abhorred by Puritans. Grafted specimens were planted in the gardens of families associated with James I, who had an interest in the tree. It was particularly vulnerable during the Civil War, and the Thorn on Wirral Hill was chopped down in 1647. It played a prominent role in the eighteenth century when the date of Christmas was changed to bring Britain into line with the Gregorian calendar. People flocked to Glastonbury in 1752 to monitor the Thorn's flowering, which was taken as proof for the validity of the old Christmas date and beliefs. It was a source of local pride and revenue in the nineteenth century: prominent Glastonbury families had thorn trees in their gardens, and the wood of local specimens was carved into tourist souvenirs.

The final chapter explores the new meanings that the Holy Thorn acquired in the twentieth century, from Celtic and Druidic associations to Avalonian theories of a Glastonbury sacred landscape. These include the zodiac envisaged by Katherine Maltwood (A Guide to Glastonbury's Temple of the Stars [Women's Publishing Society, 1934]) and the reclining goddess proposed by Kathy Jones (The Goddess in Glastonbury [Ariadne, 1990]), which led to the town becoming an international center of goddess spirituality. By the end of the 1990s, Glastonbury's Holy Thorn on Wirral Hill had become a cloutie tree for ribbons, rags, and candles—a focal point for prayers and offerings from pilgrims of many faiths. The conclusion of the book focuses on its tragic desecration in 2010, the eventual removal of the trunk in 2019, and how these events have been experienced and interpreted by local people. Here, Stout abandons the neutrality of the historian's mantle and speaks to local people: Glastonbury's Holy Thorn has become a shared spiritual symbol for the two communities of Glastonbury—bringing hope and understanding both to those born in Glastonbury and to the Avalonian seekers who have been drawn to the town by its spiritual resonance.