Connecticut, 1666: Awakened by a sacrifice, an ancient spirit comes to awareness in the dark woods. To the wildfolk he is Father: slayer, protector; the only hope they have to keep their lands safe from the human invaders. To the colonists, he is Slewfoot: demon, devil; the threat of the wilderness come to life. But to Abitha, recently widowed cunning woman, looked at with suspicion by her village for her strange ways and thoughts, he turns out to be the only one she can turn to for help.
Together, they ignite a battle between pagan and Puritan, Nature and Progress – one that threatens to destroy the entire village, leaving nothing but ashes in their wake. It started with blood, and it will only end in blood. (and why writing this synopsis do I feel like I should be off watching Snow White and the Huntsman?)
To be frank, I just don’t think I’m Goth enough for this book. Or maybe I’m just not pretentious Goth enough; sure, I shop at BlackCraft and Killstar, I shopped at Hot Topic back when it sold Lenore and Johnny the Homicidal Maniac graphic novels before the Disneyfication, and I had a subscription to Gothic Beauty when it was published, but I guess I just don’t feel the proper “dark” and “bloodily atmospheric” Goth you apparently have to be to truly be of the “scene” to read this book. The entire over 300 pages of the book, all I kept hearing in my head is one line from Hazbin Hotel‘s “Vox Populi”:
I guess to put it bluntly, I just felt like the author was just trying too hard. Which really bothers me, because I had this book on my Buy List for years.
Largest problem is that everything just seemed to be trying so hard to be “edgy” and “dark” and “foreboding” that nothing turned out anything other than “meh”. To be frank, it read like the kind of book that started out as a short story published in a magazine somewhere; it has that kind of feeling to the writing.
Abitha is fiery and bordering on being an Atheist, attuned to nature and her own sexuality…and all the villagers are stereotypes straight out of The Crucible. They’re all superstitious people, religious without actually following the tenets of their religion, and will slit anyone’s throat to get ahead. Spoiler: there are only maybe truly two decent people in the entire village, and they both go insane and turn their backs on Abitha because, well, the plot calls for her to have no human allies. (True, one of them is also pressed for associating with Abitha, but you’re to take it as a moral failing that they repent to stop the pain. No, their repenting doesn’t impact Abitha one way or the other, but still, you’re to take that Abitha is one of the only truly decent people in the book.)
You killed my Booka,” she hissed. “I loved my Booka.
Her brother-in-law, the largest villain and borderline Gaston imitator, all but twirls a mustache inbetween all the gnashing of his teeth, screaming until veins pop out of his neck, and talking to the ghost of his father his appearances are filled with. But he is in no way alone; you have your Central Casting of corrupt governors, “afflicted girls” who lie because better others than them, drunken village layabouts who “know there be devils in this here woods”, narrow-minded biddies, and some of the most offensive First Nation depictions you’ve ever read. I was waiting for a “How, Squaw Abitha. We go to Big Tepee in Sky with much wampum.” Brom says that he passed the book by someone of the Pequot people to make sure it’s not offensive; well, if they think having the Pequot written as drunk, lazy, shifty, and overly superstitious isn’t offensive, then I suppose that’s their choice.
Then you have Slewfoot (aka Samson, the goat of Abitha’s that was sacrificed to raise Slewfoot) himself; an ancient Forest Deity that acts more like if Frankenstein’s Monster had an awkward teenage phase (or he’s the Beast prior to “Something There” in Beauty and the Beast). Complete with scaring old person to death and scarring young child with his presence; I suppose we should all be thankful he just scares the child and doesn’t drown it. But his good point seems to be that he loves Nature and becomes almost immediately fixated and obsessed with Abitha. So we have that going for us.
The wildfolk are just there; two of them don’t talk, and the third comes across like Tinkerbell towards Peter Pan and Wendy; there will be cutting of Puritans if she continues to mess with his Forest God, because the Forest God is his.
The book ends the way you’d think
And then, for some unearthly reason, after we’ve had both a “all religions are true religions because they’re all the same and interconnected and valid and co-existing and the gods are the planets and the stars and the beasts and I am heAs you are heAs you are meAnd we are all together” and a “let’s apparently mash-up Lilith with the Serpent of Eden and the Forbidden Fruit” moments, a tree that supposedly has grown, and can only grow, in Connecticut has jaunted to West Virginia. Thankfully that was the end of the book, or I would have lost it there and then.
So, it’s not scary, it’s not overly bloody, it’s not terrifically written, and it has caused me to drop his books on Peter Pan and Krampus off my To Buy List (and I like Peter Pan and Krampus); I don’t know what this book is other than something you get through to look at a couple pages of art. The art is interesting. The art is the best part of the book. If you’re going to buy it, buy it for the art. Brom also does the illustrations, and in my opinion, he should maybe stick with that more than writing.
