Plants and Herbs

Nepenthes (Pitcher Plant) Folklore and Magical Properties

Now that I’m home, I’ve been spending the day unpacking, straightening up the house, taking care of my cats and plants, and eating pho. It didn’t take me long to notice some new… uh, additions.

A close-up of an N. ventrata pitcher.
Audrey’s newest pitcher.

This is Audrey. Every so often, especially if she’s gotten plenty of humidity, she puts out gorgeous little pitchers. I reward her by hand-feeding her dried black soldier fly larvae.

A close-up of another pitcher on the same plant.
Another pitcher on the opposite side.

Since she seemed to be in particularly good humor when I came home, I thought now might be a good time to take a deeper look at the folklore and magical properties of the beautiful, unique, profoundly strange Nepenthes.

The plant genus Nepenthes is named for nepenthe, an ancient medicine said to heal sorrow and induce forgetfulness. It’s mentioned in ancient Greek literature, and is typically depicted as originating in Egypt.
It also appears in the Edgar Allan Poe poem “The Raven”:

Respite—respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

An image of an open pitcher plant, displaying the "lid," slender neck, and round belly of the pitcher.
Photo by Phoebeud83dudc1f on Pexels.com

Nepenthes consists of numerous species. In garden centers and plant nurseries, you’re most likely to encounter N. x ventrata — a hybrid of a N. ventricosa and N. alata.

Pitcher plants prey on insects by providing sugar and water to lure them into their pitchers. Their leaves have nectaries — special glands that secrete sweet nectar — and their pitchers contain water and digestive enzymes. Insects are attracted to the presence of food and water, and end up caught in the pitchers where they eventually drown and get digested.
(They’re pretty much Hotel California for bugs.)

However, not all pitcher plants feed on insects. N. lowii, a species native to Borneo, is known for its… rather unique shape.
Toilets.
The pitchers look like toilets.
Not only do they look like toilets, they are toilets.
N. lowii has an interesting relationship with a local shrew species. As with insects, the shrews are attracted to the pitcher plant’s nectar. While they’re there, they generally end up crapping directly into the conveniently toilet-shaped pitchers. The shrews get free nectar, and N. lowii gets free nutrient rich shrew leavings.

A close up of the mouth of N. bicalcarata, showing the pitcher's "lid" and two pointy "teeth."
Nepenthes bicalcarata, known for its two pointy “teeth.” It has a mutualistic relationship with a species of carpenter ant that makes nests in the plant’s tendrils. The plant benefits by receiving nutrients in the form of dead ants and ant feces. Photo by Yufan Jiang on Pexels.com

Other pitcher plants have symbiotic relationships with frogs. The frogs hang out in the pitchers, just under their “lids.” They eat insects that are attracted to the plant, and, as with the shrews, leave their nutritious little doots behind. They help dispose of pest insects that are more likely to harm the pitcher plant than to feed it, and the plant still gets a boost of nutrients.

One other pitcher plant species, N. rajah, has pitchers large enough to snare rats. It’s a particularly visually striking species.

In pitcher plants’ native areas, they’re often used as a source of clean water. When the pitchers initially form, they come complete with a little bit of water in their bellies to dilute the plant’s digestive enzymes to a usable level. People will sometimes crack open a fresh pitcher and drink the water inside. The trick is to use a very fresh, young pitcher — once the pitcher has opened itself, and its “lid” is raised, it may be contaminated and is no longer safe to drink.

A close up of a young pitcher, with its "lid" still sealed.
This is an earlier image of the first pitcher pictured in this post. Notice how it’s greener, slimmer, and its “lid” hasn’t opened yet. Even in this state, it has a generous amount of liquid in the belly of the pitcher. At this stage, the pitcher hasn’t yet come into contact with any insects.

Interestingly, this water is more than just a refreshing drink on a hot day. It’s also used as medicine. Nepenthes water has been used to treat digestive issues and constipation (which makes sense, considering it’s just water and stuff that helps digest things), as well as urinary tract infections.
An extract of the plant is also used to prevent scar formation.

A view of particularly striking Nepenthes pitchers, with bright red hairs and streaks on their otherwise-green pitchers.
Photo by Egor Komarov on Pexels.com

There aren’t a whole lot of resources for those looking for typical European-based magical uses for Nepenthes species. From my own experience, these plants seem to be very useful for attraction. Just be warned — while they’re effective, they aren’t quite as docile and well-intentioned as something like rose or lavender. (All things considered, this probably isn’t too surprising for a carnivorous plant!)
They’re also helpful for defense and healing.
Lastly, Considering the enormous crossover between “plants that repel or get rid of pests” and “plants historically used for purification,” it may be worth experimenting with pitcher plants as a potential purification herb.

Elementally, pitcher plants are associated with Water.

If you have access to fresh pitchers, you can add the water to a ritual bath or window, door, and floor wash for attraction. Just make sure that these are fresh, unopened pitchers. You really don’t want to be dumping partially decayed bug soup into your bath.

If you don’t have access to them, then you can also use dried pitchers. Like any other part of a plant, they don’t last forever — the pitchers have a lifespan and naturally dry up and fall off after a while. Just make sure that whatever pitchers you use are cleaned up, free of insect parts, and completely dried.

Dried pitchers are suitable for container magic like jars, sachets, or spell bottles. They also look really cool when they’re pressed in a book or between glass.

I love carnivorous plants, but it’s not always easy to find resources for using them in western magic. Since I’ve begun keeping them and developing a close relationship with them, I’ve found that they have a wonderful variety of potential magical (and even medicinal) uses. Pitcher plants don’t just help keep homes bug-free, they’re also incredibly interesting and versatile friends to have!

Plants and Herbs

Hand-Feeding a Pitcher Plant

Rule number one of keeping a Nepenthes is that you keep the fertilizer far, far away. Some horticulturists have had success with foliar feeding, but I don’t yet trust myself not to hurt mine — they’re more delicate than they seem, sometimes.

Carnivorous plants are carnivorous because their roots are not well adapted to extracting nutrients from their substrates. That’s why they eat bugs. Digestive enzymes are nature’s way of making sure they get fed, roots or no. Well… Unless they’re one of the types that evolved to digest fallen leaves or be a sleeping bag for bats, but I digress.

My N. ventrata’s pitchers are still fairly tiny (there are a bunch of them now, though), and my apartment is mercifully bug-free aside from the occasional spider or stray stinkbug, so there isn’t much hope when it comes to leaving my plant to its own devices. If it’s  hoping to catch a meal here, it’s going to be very disappointed for a very long time.

That’s okay, though. I’ve got this covered.

Pitcher plants are easier to hand feed compared to Venus fly traps. For fly traps, you have to rehydrate dried insects into a kind of bug-burger, then wiggle it around until the trap activates. Too much water, and the liquid might cause the plant to rot. Not enough, and the plant’s digestive enzymes might not be able to break it down adequately.

Pitcher plants, though? They’re a breeze:

worms
Delish!

Nepenthes pitches contain so much liquid, rehydration isn’t really an issue. They also lure insects rather than trap them, so I don’t have to put on a dead bug puppet show to get them to latch on. Take a pair of tweezers, pick up a pinch of dried bloodworms, and drop them in. You can even crush the worms to powder for particularly small pitchers. It doesn’t take many, so one container will last for ages.

Larger pitchers benefit from dried crickets or mealworms instead, but my guys are much too little for that. Pinhead crickets are often available as a special order from some pet stores, but they usually only come in large increments. I also don’t want to have to fight with fitting live crickets into those tiny pitcher mouths!

Feeding is kind of a misnomer, though — nepenthes are still photosynthetic, and depend on carbohydrates for energy. Bugs are more akin to fertilizer than actual food. As with other types of fertilizer, it’s better to err on the side of not feeding enough versus feeding too much. I don’t feed my pitchers often — once a month, if that. Regardless of what you feed them or how often, it’s important to make sure that the insects are completely submerged in the digestive fluid. If they aren’t, they’ll just end up growing mold instead of breaking down and feeding the plant.

Hopefully, I’ll have some pitchers large enough for crickets soon. Until then, I’ve got loads of bloodworms!

 

 

Plants and Herbs

New Pitcher Plant Shoots!

I love my little pitcher plant. It’s helpful (especially in summer), weirdly cute, and caring for it has been a really interesting learning experience. All told? 10/10 plantbro.

I’d wanted a Nepenthes ever since one of my exes and I spotted an enormous, stunningly beautiful N. ventricosa at this nursery we used to frequent years ago. (Old Country Gardens, in Delaware. Visiting that place was like going to weird plant zoo, and I loved it. They had a great collection of strange succulents and ornamental plants, as well as the usual fare. But anyway, I digress.) I was immediately drawn to it, but, since we lived in a place with barely any natural light to speak of, it was not to be.

When my S.O. and I saw a pretty little N. ventrata, we jumped on the opportunity. The pitchers didn’t last long after we brought it home, as they’re kind of prone to dropping off — Nepenthes are pretty sensitive to changes in light and humidity, and few homes are able to provide the kind of sun, temperatures, moisture, and tightly-controlled setting that a professional grower can.

Fortunately, N. ventrata is pretty adaptable. It’s a hybrid between N. alata and N. ventricosa (a lowland and highland species, respectively) and its needs are a bit better suited to the typical home environment. Even if the pitchers drop off, they’ll grow back once the plant acclimates as long as its basic needs are met.

This one grows like a weed. I have to cut it back regularly, and it seems like every spring brings me a fresh batch of these guys:

A nepenthes stem with new, green shoots.
New shoots!

Sometimes, Nepenthes produce basal shoots, which seem to grow out of (or very close to) the soil. They’ll also grow new shoots further along the vine. I’m no carnivorous plant expert, but, as far as I can tell, there isn’t an enormous difference between the two. They don’t develop their own root systems like aloe pups or spider plant offsets, but they can detach and eventually root. Left alone, they’re also a great way for a plant to continue on after it’s gotten a little too long. My plant tends to look scragglier as it vines. I also much prefer its lower pitchers to those that it produces on its upper portions, so I like to prune it back to maintain a more compact shape. (I also don’t really have the room to properly cultivate a vine just yet, so compact it is!)

A tiny nepenthes pitcher.
Plus the rosette has the cutest baby pitcher ever.

Fortunately for me, I’ve got a ton of new shoots to work with this year. This plant’ll be full and leafy in no time.