49 pages • 1 hour read
Heather FawcettA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“It was then, as I stared at the empty hearth, hungry and cold, that I began to wonder if I would die here.”
From the first chapter, Fawcett sets the foreboding atmosphere to the novel. Emily’s unnerved mood and her premonition that she might die in Ljosland foreshadows the sinister turn the plot will eventually take. This also establishes her field note frame narration. The purpose of her writing is to either document her findings for her encyclopedia or to record the truth if she dies during her project.
“‘They’re not all true, though,’ he said with a frown. ‘Can’t be. All storytellers embellish. You should listen to my grandmother when she gets going—she’ll have us hanging on every word, yes, but a visitor from the next village will say they don’t know the tale, though it’s the same one their own amma tells at her hearth.’”
This passage presents an interesting way of not only engaging with The Power of Stories, but as Emily discovers throughout the novel, the way she tells her own throughout her journal entries. The claim that “all storytellers embellish” implies that Emily herself might be an unreliable narrator, especially due to her connection with the Folk, who are undeniably the best embellishers of all.
“Ljosland is a labyrinth of mountains, you’ll understand, as well as fjords and glaciers and every other sharp-edged formation most hostile to Man. Between the peaks, the landscape was crushed down into what I supposed were valleys, chased and boulder-strewn.”
Fawcett describes every faerie in relation to the natural world. Different faerie species are also described in relation to the geography of their home region. Given that the environment of Ljosland is so hostile and unforgiving, this passage hints at the viciousness of the faeries who call the region home.
“I felt the need to keep talking, for some reason, to justify myself or perhaps my presence.”
Emily feels intense desire to prove herself. She fulfills this desire by chasing new discoveries and redefining the academic field of faeries, but all while ignoring where the desire stems from. Deep down, Emily wants to prove herself worthy of presence, not only in the academic community, but a community that provides family and home. This pressure she feels to prove herself when speaking to the townspeople upon her arrival is an extension of this deep-rooted desire and is only fulfilled when she understands how to differentiate Transactional Versus Unconditional Relationships.
“It had become clear to me, in a way that it never had before, that it would be wise for me to be frightened of Bambleby.”
Despite Wendell’s charming and lazy nature, the fact that he is a faerie ensures an undercurrent of unpredictability, a tendency toward trickery and games, and a delight in cruelty. Like the weather, faeries are volatile and dangerous creatures, and Wendell can easily use this against Emily. As the story progresses, Emily goes from understanding Wendell to be laid back and annoying to understanding his underlying complexity.
“The result was easily the most enjoyable evening I have spent in Hrafnsvik, as the villagers largely forgot about my existence amidst the gale-force winds of Wendell’s personality.”
Wendell is the only “human” character who is described in language pertaining to the natural world, another hint at his faerie ancestry despite his guise at playing human. The use of “gale-force winds” in relation to his personality evidences the contradictions that faeries embody. While Wendell is charming, the battering strength of the descriptor “gale” indicates that his enthusiasm could easily become a dangerous force.
“He pressed his hands to his face. ‘Yesterday you were angry at my lack of assistance. Today you bite my head off for helping. You are the most contrary person I have ever known.’”
Faeries are contrary by nature, embodying opposites in everything from appearance, behavior, and spoken meaning. Wendell’s claim that Emily is a contrary person relates her to the Folk, and by extension, to Wendell himself. This connection between their natures provides authenticity and solid reason as to why their romance might last.
“Bambleby is irritatingly adept at languages. Small wonder—the Folk can speak any mortal language they encounter. As they flit through the physical barriers erected by mortals, so too do they evade those of our cultures.”
Emily describes how adeptness with language is a unique Folk ability. This fact evidences the theme, The Power of Stories, as the specific language used to craft those stories is often proven to have more meaning than first expected. This is also evidenced in the significance Words of Power have in the novel.
“Perhaps if you were not so covered in prickles, she would have forgiven you by now. But if there’s anyone who could encourage others to go looking for excuses to take offence, it is you. And then you compounded the mistake by barging into her village with your questions, and without seeking her permission first.”
Wendell’s stark description of Emily’s personality suggests Apathy and Detachment in Academia. Her ambition and impartiality makes her prickly to others and unworthy of their forgiveness. Her pursuit of knowledge causes her to ignore customs and traditions, and insult and disrespect the locals. Despite this, her behaviors are similar to Wendell’s true self and his secret faerie nature. While he can charm others, he is ultimately more apathetic than the humans in the story.
“I hurried after Bambleby, who apart from giving the volcanic stones scattered here and there a few desultory kicks seemed barely conscious of the feral nature of the surroundings. The wind yanked on my bun and sent the loose strands lashing against my face.”
Fawcett uses personification to give the arctic winds in the Ljosland wilderness life. They yank at her hair and lash her face, a personification of the real danger the region and the Hidden Ones poses to Emily on her journey. This part of the story departs briefly from the cozy fantasy genre and veers into a fantastical adventure.
“The fire merrily crackled, and the whole space was illuminated by strategically placed oil lamps that had not been present before. Woollen rugs scattered the floor, and the windows were hung with curtains. And there were things atop the mantel: pretty things that seemed to have no purpose at all.”
Atmosphere is incredibly important to cozy fantasy, as it’s a genre with heightened emphasis on mood and setting. Fawcett successfully adheres to this facet of the genre by allowing Wendell to indulge his Brownie ancestry, which is cause for his obsession with cleanliness and comfort. This part of the story is placed after a moment of high intensity, carefully interwoven to lower the stakes for the reader.
“I have always hated this sort of thing. I would sooner interview a dozen bloody changelings than navigate my way through this thicket of social conventions. I thought to myself that perhaps I should simply avoid conversation altogether going forward, seeing as I always make a mess of it.”
The last line of this passage hints that Emily’s true reason for avoiding socialization is not because she doesn’t care for it, but rather because she fears not being able to do so properly. With the Folk, human social conventions aren’t necessary, making them much easier for her to navigate without any repercussions to her personal life.
“The effect of his simple ministrations upon the place has been almost alarming; it is virtually cosy. I have never lived somewhere warranting such an adjective, and I am not sure how to feel about it. And anyway, what is the point of decorating a place one is only temporarily inhabiting? When I posed the question to Bambleby, he replied with characteristic solipsism that if I had to ask, I would never understand the answer.”
Emily has been working on her encyclopedia for nine years. When she’s not traveling the world in pursuit of discoveries, she’s at her office in Cambridge, which is not decorated with personal belongings or any homely decorations. Emily’s inquisitiveness about the purpose of decorating their cottage evidences her lack of experience with having an actual home worthy of leaving a mark in.
“Perhaps I did not care—could not care—as much as I should for the fate of two youths. But I was also not someone who would put glory before discovery, empty praise before enlightenment.”
This passage illustrates Emily’s forthright admission that she values academia over the lives of two townspeople. This is one of many times Emily displays Apathy and Detachment in Academia with an indifference for human life when it stands in the way of her research.
“He led us along the lakeshore, summoning little icicle flowers to carpet our feet, as if the symmetry between him and Wendell wasn’t already striking enough.”
Wendell’s use of magic along their journey through the forest presents as summer magic. This faerie is one of the Hidden Ones, a troop of winter faeries, and just as summer and winter oppose one another, his description is a direct contrast to Wendell’s.
“How did I explain this to ordinary people? How did I explain that the stories they tell to children, or for diversion on cold nights spent by the fire, held the deepest of truths—that they were in fact keys to unlocking the secrets of the Folk?”
This passage occurs at the pivotal moment of the plot, where stories begin to have the most amount of power in the narrative. Following this passage, stories are used to swap the changeling for Mord and Aslaug’s real child; to free the Hidden king from his imprisonment; and to rescue Emily from his castle. Within every story are more secrets with which to navigate the Folk, just as Emily states here.
“She was both like and unlike the Folk I had seen at the winter fair. She was tall and lovely and sharp-edged, and the starlight reflected off her strangely as she moved, like a lake with pebbles dropped into it.”
This passage provides another instance in which the Folk are described in language pertaining to the natural world. This faerie in particular is described in relation to the element of water. Her sharp-edged nature contrasts with the way starlight reflects off her, illustrating how faeries are both beautiful yet dangerous.
“I had supposed he felt something for me and had only hoped he would keep it to himself. Forever. Not that a part of me didn’t wish for the opposite.”
Emily claims to hate social conventions and this extends to romantic entanglements as well. However, what is not mentioned on-page but implied in her obvious biases about the subject, her hatred is actually fear. This is evidenced in this passage, where she claims to have hoped Wendell kept his feelings to himself, yet internally reciprocates his feelings and harbors a discrete desire to traverse that path and see where it leads.
“And yet, it did not want me to be uncomfortable en route—it had compelled me to dress warmly, to don boots to prevent frostbite. And perhaps that aspect of the enchantment could be manipulated to my own purpose.”
Emily uses The Power of Stories over the Folk by manipulating the story she tells herself to alter the enchantment binding her to the white tree. By insisting to the enchantment that she needs gloves for her hands, she’s able to delay her trek to the tree by returning to the cottage once more.
“The first queen gave him a cloak woven from all the seasons, and then when he fell asleep in it one night by the Lake of Dancing Stars, as he often did, she snipped out the winter and stitched the whole thing back together. Then she wrapped him up tight in the cloak and fastened all the buttons. That trapped him, you see—well, no one could escape a year without winter, not even the king. She planted the king’s feet in the woods and turned the silk and wool and gold thread she’d used to weave the cloak into bark and leaf. Since then the tree has grown very tall, and he is still inside it, trapped forevermore.”
The entire novel emphasizes the power of stories. The receipt of this particular story for Poe at the height of the plot encourages readers to step into Emily’s shoes and to scrounge up their knowledge from the stories she has told in her journal, which will then provide the answers for her next steps. The story Emily has previously told about receiving a Word of Power for retrieving buttons will come in handy a few chapters later.
“The tree murmured, and magic prodded me again. But it did not prod me to move, it prodded my mind. And that was when I realized—the king didn’t know how to free himself. He expected me to come up with a solution.”
Wendell mentions to Emily that he has never met someone so understanding of the nature of Folk, even amongst the other Folk. This is why the Hidden king reaches out to her above anyone else with the task of releasing him from his prison, for she has a way of understanding Folk better than anyone else and can therefore find a “loophole” or back door to his own story.
“The Folk never marry mortals who aren’t beautiful unless they have been forced into it by trickery (and even then, the mortals are often revealed to be beautiful in the end, having been enchanted to look ugly).”
This passage presents an interesting interpretation of Wendell’s proposal to Emily. Neither she nor the Hidden king believe herself to be beautiful, yet Wendell has proposed marriage to her without trickery or bargain. The novel’s insistence that stories hold most the power in faerie affairs is cause for apprehension as to how their romance will eventually play out. This also foreshadows Emily’s role in Wendell’s faerie story. Much like the faerie relationships Emily has read about, Wendell finds her attractive and elevates her to the level of the Folk.
“I would miss Lilja and Margret and the others. When had that ever happened before? I was beginning to wonder if the faerie king had changed me somehow.”
At the start of the novel, Emily is asked about family by a townsperson and only lists her brother. When Wendell decorates the cottage, she doesn’t see reason for it because she’s never stayed in a place long enough to create a home. This passage illustrates the sense of home and community she’s found in Hrafnsvik, which is extreme character growth from Emily.
“Any sane person would have already turned down his proposal. If there is one thing about which the stories, regardless of origin, agree, it is that marrying the Folk is a very bad idea. Romance generally is a bad idea where they are concerned; it hardly ever ends well.”
While the novel ends on a happy note, this is only the first in the series. With the search still ongoing for Wendell’s door and his marriage proposal still up in the air, this passage foreshadows the conflict to come. Much like how there is a good and bad side to every faerie bargain, romance with faeries is often the same.
“I mumbled my way through the goodbyes and thank-yous, but nobody seemed to mind anymore. Lilja and Margret hugged me tight.”
Emily is still awkward and stilted when it comes to social conventions. The difference between the start of the novel and now is that the townspeople expect and even encourage this from her. They, and Wendell, love Emily just as she is, a feat she once thought impossible. She can now differentiate between Transactional Versus Unconditional Relationships and has developed true friendships with the townspeople, which brings her joy.