Ectoplasm

A bridge between our world and the realm of spirits.

Ectoplasm is a bridge between our world and the realm of spirits.

Examine its origins, its role in history, and why this mysterious substance holds importance.

The idea of ectoplasm took root in the late 19th century, during the peak of the spiritualist movement.

This was an era when people gathered in candlelit rooms for séances to communicate with the departed. Mediums served as conduits to the afterlife. Ectoplasm was a physical sign of that connection, a substance they produced while in a trance.

During a séance, a medium sat with closed eyes. They released a sticky material from their mouth or nose. Astonished onlookers watched as it floated like a hand or face. It was evidence the spirit world had reached out.

Descriptions of ectoplasm vary. Some saw it as a thick substance, slick and organic, almost alive. Others witnessed it as a delicate mist that drifted through the air before vanishing.

Helen Duncan was a medium in Scotland during the 1920s. Participants in her séances reported a ghostly material spill from her mouth. It shaped into a figure they believed was a spirit. This proved ectoplasm’s link to the unseen. Doubters questioned the details.

Investigators like Harry Price in the 1930s used cameras and lights to expose mediums hiding cloth or animal tissue. A medium was caught with fabric tucked away that suggested trickery.

Not every medium was a fake, and not every séance was staged. The possibility remains that some ectoplasm is genuine.

Ectoplasm’s appeal goes beyond the physical. It tied into a human need, in the wake of wars that made families ache for closure.

The late 19th and early 20th centuries were heavy with loss, and ectoplasm offered comfort, a sign that loved ones lingered nearby. Sit in a séance, heartbroken, and see a medium produce this strange substance. To many, it wasn’t just goo. It was hope made real.

Ectoplasm didn’t disappear with the fading of spiritualism’s golden age. It found a home in popular culture, where it’s embraced with a nod to its roots.

The 1984 movie Ghostbusters brought ectoplasm to life as the green slime left by ghosts. It shows up in games and shows, a mark of paranormal presence. While these versions differ from the séance stories, they keep ectoplasm’s essence alive.

Mediums explain ectoplasm as a blend of their own energy and spiritual forces, a process that drains them physically.

Mina Crandon, known as “Margery,” was a Boston medium in the 1920s. Her sessions produced a threadlike material from her hands or ears. She said it came from her bond with the dead.

Skeptics found gelatin in some samples. Believers argue that doesn’t disprove every instance. Maybe the real ectoplasm was mixed with the fake, or misunderstood by those quick to judge.

Sometimes, ectoplasm wasn’t visible. Mediums spoke of “etheric ectoplasm,” a presence felt as a chill or a brush against the skin during a séance. This invisible form defies the need for proof. You can’t photograph a feeling, but that doesn’t make it less real. It might not always fit the skeptic’s narrow lens.

Charles Richet, a respected researcher in the early 1900s, thought he’d found the real deal, only for it to be identified as soaked muslin.

Critics see this as the final word, but believers wonder if science misses the point. Could ectoplasm be too fragile, too tied to the spirit world, to hold up under a microscope?

Ectoplasm still interests those open to the paranormal. Ghost hunters call a cold spot or a strange photo “ectoplasmic.” Séances with dripping goo are rare now.

For believers, it’s not about theatrics. It’s about possibility. The modern take leans on personal experience over public displays, keeping ectoplasm alive in a new form. It’s not always about what you measure, but what you feel.

Ectoplasm is a window into the supernatural that refuses to shut. It started in spiritualist circles, faced challenges, and lives on.

To believers, it’s a sign that the spirit world touches ours in ways we don’t fully grasp.