As I read Hazelthorn I searched for the right words to describe it: unique, original, addictive, disturbing, psychologically horrific … tragic. It’s has “a terrible beauty” as Keats or Yeats might have said. It’s the most superb gothic romantasy I’ve ever read—something Byron and Shelley might have devoured. Really, words are inadequate. You’ll have to read it yourself to understand and feel its effects. Know it will haunt you.
Every line is strangely lyrical, painted with intensity and shadowed with darkness, and yet, the story ends wrapped in ribbons of sunlight. If you open to any page, you’ll find something quoteworthy.
“He is not a bird meant for flight; he is broken wings and forgotten petals left to dry between pages of an old book and he doesn’t know how to believe he could be anything else” (259).
Evander. The boy on the cover smothered by thorns. Locked up and drugged for years in a musty room in a billionaire’s mansion—confused and imprisoned until one day someone unlocks his door and sets him free.
Laurie. The billionaire’s grandson. Beautiful, sarcastic, witty, hurting, desperate, desolate. The object of Evander’s affection, though Evander hates him, justifiably. Laurie attacked Evander when they were ten, beat him and cut him and tried to bury him alive in the garden.
Now they’re seventeen living in a mansion choked by gardens and greenery capable to murder. Grasping at an insane obsession.
And the billionaire’s been murdered. Laurie’s grandfather. Evander’s jailer.
The cover says it all. Evander, embraced by the garden, his flesh ravaged by thorns, his blood oozing. Since the garden had a taste of his blood, it wants him back. The theme of this story is guilt eclipsed by greed. You won’t believe it.
But the message is love.
This is Young Adult Romantasy at its finest … and darkest.
As some of you may know, I practice the craft in a very low key, quiet way on my own. Estrada, Sensara, and Hollystone Coven are not quite that quiet and practice their theatrical rituals together as a powerful coven in a nearby wood by a lake. Over the winter break, I felt the urge to learn more.
I’d discovered a TV show on Crave called Sanctuary: A Witch’s Tale. If you can, give it a watch. Sanctuary is a small English town twinned with Salem (in the US) where there is a practicing witch—with a clinic and a laboratory full of herbs and potions. It’s such a quaint town, you almost want to live there … until someone dies and all fingers point one way.
But I digress. Wanting to know more about the craft, I searched my local library to see what kind of books they had on hand. That’s where I ran into this one:
The Practice of Witchcraft Today: An Introduction to Beliefs and Rituals, written by Robin Skelton in 1990. What caught my eye was the author’s biography. At the time (1990) Robin Skelton was a poet, critic, and essayist who’d published seventy plus books. Here was a man who’d been an initiated witch for nearly twenty years AND he was teaching at the University of Victoria in British Columbia. How cool is the West Coast? Skelton was born in England in 1925 and died in Victoria at age 72 (1997). This book explains his teachings.
Part I: Answering the Questions
This is wonderful! He really drills down to the Q&A most asked by the curious. What do witches believe? Do witches raise spirits? Do witches have sexual orgies? Unfortunately, the answer to that is no, Estrada, though I know you’d prefer otherwise:)
Skelton is clear to point out that witchcraft is an Ancient Religion, a Sacred Religion. Here are a few of the main points. Witches believe:
that all beings have spirit and are alive (trees, rocks, winds, water, toads, horses, humans, ravens … This is what draws me to the craft.
in the Earth Goddess and her consort, The Horned God, Cernunnos
that the sun, moon, and stars can influence the destiny of us mortals
that life continues through rebirth (reincarnation)
that death need not be feared as life is perpetual
that witch religions are matriarchal
that all humans have energy fields and produce psychic power
“The difference between stage magic and real magic is that in true magic what appears to have happened has actually happened” (22).
He reveals that each witch keeps a Book of Shadows for setting out rituals, ceremonies, incantations, spells, and herbal lore incorporating the nature of the land.
In Part 2, he teaches about Rituals and Celebrations including the Witch’s calendar (involving both moons and sabbats).
Part 3 offers a collection of spells; verbal magic as well as talismanic magic. There is much talk of colors and symbols.
Thoughts On Casting Spells
Every witch makes his or her own spells. They must be cast with true intent. The intensity of that intent is what’s important and the belief that it will work. They must NOT cause harm. As you may know, that is The Witch’s Law:
Do what ye will provided that ye harm none. Perfect Love. Perfect Trust.
When picking up special talismans from the thrift store, clean in salt for 48 hours and then imbue with energy and intent. I loved this advice. As we all know, things hold onto energy, be it positive or negative, and you can find true treasures in thrift stores.
Do I recommend this book? Yes. I think there’s much to be learned from going back to the roots of witchcraft and remembering that not only does Goddess worship predate Christianity, it’s a sacred craft.
Blessed be.
P.S. On New Year’s Eve, I set up candles and cast my Tarot. I was The Star. My future was The Sun. And my outcome was The Magician. It can’t get much more positive than that. But seeing The Magician made me wonder: Is it time to awaken Estrada, The Man in Black? Thoughts?
Wouldn’t you love to own a curiosity shoppe crammed with all sorts of treasures, perhaps some that are even magical? This is what our feisty seventeen-year-old hero, Willow Stokes, inherits when her father dies. The problem is, nothing seems the least bit magical so nothing’s been sold for decades, and Willow’s about to lose the shoppe. She can’t pay the rent. The townspeople of Ardmuir regard her as a charlatan, all except for her kind and handsome best friend, Finlay Barrow, and her affectionate “storm-cloud gray kitten” Argyle.
This all changes the day the mythical wolpertinger warns: “Beware the girl in the oxblood cloak!” and then that very girl appears in the shoppe looking for a very particular grimoire. Is the outlander, Brianna Hargrave, bad news or the answer to all Willow’s problems?
I dare you not to get hooked on the opening of this cozy fantasy.
“Always heed the warning of a wolpertinger. Those words became something of a refrain in the weeks after the girl with the wild hair and strange accent entered my shoppe and spun everything arse over teakettle.”
Character-driven cozies are trending these days, whether they’re mysteries, romances, or fantasies. This one blends a little of all three. Scots-talk tampers the swearing into bollocks, arse, and shite. There are clans and tartans, weans and dragon’s eyes, pony carts and magic thimbles. There’s a sweet love story with a first kiss that leaves you cheering for the happy couple, minimal violence, and creepy bad men get their comeuppance. Even the “ravenous cats” can be beat.
The brilliant cover features artwork by Vera Drmanovski—thistles, magic mushrooms, and the fantastical wolpertinger. I’ll be reading more of Mara Rutherford YA books. This one is a treasure trove—a whimsical coming-of-age story brimming with magic and adventure, that reminds us what’s important in life: friendship, love, and loyalty. I want to crawl inside the Cabinet of Magical Curiosities and stay there. Perhaps, there’ll be a sequel. One can only hope.
Mara Rutherford is something of a curiosity herself. A triplet born on Leap Day in California, she studied journalism before dropping into YA fantasy, married a marine who turned diplomat, is raising two sons, and currently lives in Rome. If that’s not a cozy fantasy, nothing is.
Reader Beware: This fast-paced Young Adult novel contains several graphic, disturbing scenes of indescribable gore and violence. Actually, I shouldn’t say “indescribable” because it’s Sutherland’s sensory play-by-plays that push it over the edge into the HORROR realm, giving Stephen King a run for his money. Quill & Quire’s called him Canada’s answer to R.L. Stine. If the macabre is not to your taste you might want to give it a pass, but if you’re intrigued by Halloween horror, Stranger Things, and masterfully crafted suspense, read on.
This rapid-fire tale is as highly emotional as its teenage protagonists. Seventeen-year-old Joana, her thirteen-year-old brother Peter, and her troubled father are on the run—not from evil humans but from the voices that haunt their tortured father. The Whisperings.
“They whisper in my ear in the middle of the night as I sleep. They murmur, mumble, and mutter, often nothing more than a stream of indecipherable nonsense. Clear words sometimes jump out of the noise, like fish flying from the water, and sometimes the voices yell. But they all want, and need, and demand”(53).
Every time The Whisperings take hold, the Guests pack their car and drive off to find a new town. This nomadic existence started thirteen years ago when Joana’s mother was violently murdered in their family home. (Note: her horrific murder is described in vivid detail later in the story.) Now, they’ve arrived in the small town of Burlington, Vermont and rented the dank basement of a sprawling (and crawling) Victorian house from old Mrs. Cracknell. It’s a fixer-upper with reduced rent because Dad’s a handyman. It’s hard to keep a job when you’re constantly running from the voices in your head.
Known locally as “The Kill House”, it’s alive, not only with the spirits of a family torn asunder by a tragic murder-suicide, but with creepy insects that natter in the walls. “Ta-tump, ta-tump, ta-tump!” You see, Abraham Keil, the depraved murderer, was an entomologist at the local university. Centipedes and spiders lurk in these musty pages, and a Death Watch Beetle sings Joana into her closet, where she bashes in the wall and discovers the red room. Use your imagination.
If that’s not enough, there’s a creepy little beetle dead-centre every time we break scenes that makes me jump even though I know it’s coming.
When Joana tumbles from a red rock cliff, narrowly escaping with her life, she awakens in hospital with the ability to see ghosts herself. The Whisperings have somehow been transferred to her via a concussion. Woven through the story is a B-plot love story that offers some relief from the nail-biting suspense. Joana meets Willem, a quirky, bookish boy who works at the local diner and christens her, Pumpkin Spice on account of her first latte. How sweet. Will they both survive the hauntings?
Joana’s been on the run since she was four years old and wants nothing more than to put down roots in Burlington, an old-timey village that feels like home to her. She loves to run, and this talent earns her a place on the school rugby team. Things seem to be working out, what with rugby and Willem, until they’re not.
Canadian author Joel A. Sutherland is the award-winning author of Scholastic Canada’s Haunted Canada series (now a graphic novel in development for television). This “master of the macabre” lives in Ontario with his family, but sets his books south of the border in Vermont. His novel, Summer’s End, was a Red Maple Award Honour Book. The Whisperings follows his debut YA novel, House of Ash and Bone, a novel of ghosts and witches, also set in Vermont. He received a Masters of Information and Library Studies from Aberystwyth University in Wales.
In the Afterword, Sutherland explains that horror stories “teach us how to defeat the thing hiding under our bed, the monster lurking in our closet, or the voices only we can hear. They give us the tools we need to face our fears. They remind us that we’re not alone; when the lights go out, we all get a little scared. But in the morning, the sun always rises” (289). Well, maybe not for ALL the characters in this book. If you’re craving frenzied goosebumps, this may be the book for you.
This book is subtitled: “Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants.” It’s a wonderful book; one I’ll add to my library. It’s about changing attitudes, rediscovering nature, and learning gratitude. If anyone can save the planet and ameliorate this current crisis, it’s Indigenous teachings and children—coupled together this book creates a lifeline to hope.
My understanding is that Monique Gray Smith took the teachings offered in Braiding Sweetgrass (2013) by Potawatomi botanist Robin Wall Kimmerer and adapted them for Young Adults. It’s a beautifully written and produced book with gorgeous illustrations by Diné (Navajo) artist, Nicole Neidhardt.
Most of the stories originate in the East. Having grown up alongside the Great Lakes and studied with Anishinaabe Elders and teachers at Trent University, they resonate with me. I well remember the teachings of the Seven Fires. We are now in the time of the Seventh Fire. That prophecy “tells that all the people of the earth will see that the path ahead is divided. Each person must make a choice in their path to the future” (278).
Some teachings I’ve chosen to weave into my life—like planting one corn seed, one pole bean seed, and one squash seed together in my community garden plot in the way of the Haudenosaunee People. This is not only to honour my Tuscarora grandmothers, it makes sense. The corn stalk provides a trellis for the pole beans and the wide squash leaves keep the soil moist and weed free. I also found Pass the Feather, where I can order tobacco seed from a Haudenosaunee woman who says, “You are not paying for tobacco seeds or my time – this is a gift from me to you. Tobacco is not for sale and should not be bought.” You can leave Dawn a donation for her time. I love this concept. Then when I pluck from the wild, after asking the plant if I can take a part of her to use, I can leave some sacred tobacco as a gift.
passthefeather.ca
This idea of changing the way we approach nature and do business is one the author proposes. Engage in a gift exchange rather than purchase and sale. Think potlatch: give rather than take, making gratitude one of those things you give.
It seems a romantic and radical idea to change the way we’ve done business for hundreds of years, but isn’t that what’s needed. I mean, that’s how we lost our old growth trees, isn’t it? The Europeans who arrived here on Turtle Island saw only wood for their houses and ships, rather than sentient beings who’d been part of a thriving ecosystem for thousands of years.
We may not be able to change the world view completely but making gifts rather than flocking to the mall to purchase is one way to proceed. Also, we can buy locally crafted products to support our artists and creators rather than huge corporations from the other side of the world.
There are times as I read that I’m transported back home. I remember collecting maple sap in Ontario and boiling it down on my kitchen stove until it bubbled thick in the bottom of the pot and steam ran down the walls. Oh, that was wonderful syrup. And we always had a garden. I knew all the plant life around my childhood home and learned to use natural remedies. Things are different now that I live in a city on the West Coast, but I’m trying to do whatever I can. It’s not only better for the earth, it feeds and soothes my soul.
What can you do? Learn the old Indigenous ways, appreciate the plants, and show your gratitude. Perhaps buy or borrow this book for your teenagers, or if you’re a teacher, read parts of it in the classroom. Working together and sharing these ways of walking on the Mother Earth creates hope, which lessens anxiety and brings beauty to our world.
P.S. If you’ve never smelled sweetgrass, you must. It’s indescribably sweet and soothing. My grandson loves it.
