Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands

“Lilja and Margret continue to demonstrate a great deal of interest in Wendell’s marriage proposal, and they ask if I have come to a decision each time they write. […] I miss them both and very much wish I could see them again—I always found Lilja in particular an uncommonly easy person to converse with.”

In the series’ first installment, Emily learned how to make genuine relationships outside of academic transactions. Her continued correspondence with Lilja and Margret proves this character growth and the decidedly non-academic discussions these letters contain further illustrates the authenticity of the friendships. Emily’s friendships with the townsfolk in the previous novel create a foundation for the theme The Benefits of Accepting Help From Others in this installment.

“I’ve often noticed, sir, that for all we scholars shake our heads at the amorality of the Folk, on many occasions we demonstrate that we lack the high ground.”

The ruthlessness of academia is a running theme across the series. In the first installment, it seems like the ruthlessness comes from Emily’s particular character alone, but the ruthlessness of Dr. Rose and this passage suggests that the entire field is rife with ambitious scholars who might consider compromising morals for discovery.

“I have seen plenty of strange Folk, but I cannot begin to convey how disturbing these sheerie were, how my mind shuddered away from my inability to connect them to the worlds I knew. What sort of place, I wondered, is Wendell’s kingdom?”

This passage illustrates the first instance where Emily wonders whether she’s in over her head on the mission with Wendell. In the first book, she relies on her understanding of the Folk and their stories to navigate her interactions with faeries, yet Wendell and the Folk from his realm continue to defy everything Emily knows. Her arrogance in this regard will prove near-fatal when she continues to underestimate the Irish Folk.

“His eyes have always been too green, a blackened green like leaves layered until no light can get through. I don’t like to hold his gaze for long; not because I find it intimidating, but because a part of me worries that if I do, I will never wish to look away.”

Emily’s fear of becoming trapped in Wendell’s stare is not necessarily a fear of him as Folk, but a fear of giving into the love she has for him. By fully admitting it and accepting a proposal, Emily will be thrust into a completely different life. As a result, she will undoubtedly experience changes in career and social life. This change and unpredictability makes the stoic and academic Emily uncomfortable.

“I was beginning to understand that she would be happy in any situation so long as she felt useful, a rather dangerous quality in an assistant that I would have to resist the temptation to exploit.”

The ruthlessness of academia is again hinted upon in this passage. Despite Emily’s character growth and the relationships she forged with Lilja and Margret, Emily still struggles to form new ones. Her relationship with her niece, Ariadne, is important to her yet foreign, as Emily does not have close relationships with any of her family. Family or not, Emily struggles with treating her as an assistant to exploit rather than a student worthy of respect and responsibility.

“It’s true he’s lived among mortals for ten years […] Unheard of for the courtly fae. And perhaps it’s changed him, but how much? Surely not on any fundamental level […] I don’t offer up tedious warnings for my amusement. I am not quite old enough to relish the role of the gloomy sage. You are, in fact, far from a fool, Emily, and I have some hope that I might penetrate your illusions.”

Rose voices some of the same concerns Emily’s previously had. How well can she truly know the Folk? Despite Wendell’s time amongst mortals, can she trust their love story will not end the same as her not-so-lucky human counterparts? Rose’s statements here further highlight the conflation between academic objectivity and romantic subjectivity Emily is experiencing.

“It felt a little eerie, I confess, walking in the footsteps of that doomed woman whose ghost—in the form of her maps and other writings—had so shaped our expedition thus far.”

This passage subtly illustrates the ways in which Emily mirrors de Grey’s character. Both are ambitious, science-motivated scholars whose innovative methods often lead them into explicit danger. By feeling uneasy at walking de Grey’s same path, Emily is unintentionally admitting that she might be making the same doomful mistakes.

“As I write this entry, I realize that it was cold of me to sit there revelling in daydreams of scholarly triumphs while the victim of one of my emendations lay insensible nearby, covered in strange wounds, but at the time I had no consciousness of this.”

Even in moments of tragedy, Emily cannot fully quell the ambitious side of her that prioritizes academics above all else. Despite her guilt for causing Rose’s injuries, she still manages to become excited about the prestigious paper her newfound knowledge will substantiate.

“I will endeavour to describe the experience to the best of my abilities, because I am certain I will write a paper about it. Such a paper would no doubt secure me an invitation to any conference I desired, though I will note that, as we fled the assassins surging out of the clouds, I was not worried about conferences, or at least they were not at the forefront of my thoughts.”

Unlike in the past, when Emily would be thinking about academics even in the heat of the moment, her shifting priorities are highlighted by her reflection in this journal entry. While she thinks of academics now, in the moment, she was uncharacteristically only thinking about the safety of herself and her friends.

“I felt an ache of longing to follow the forest path to the village and Lilja and Margret’s cottage, so strong that it surprised me. What a relief it would be to confide in them all that had happened! But it was too dangerous, and not only that, I had no time.”

Though Emily has expressed maintaining contact with Lilja and Margret already, this is the first time she explicitly states missing them or valuing their friendship. This rare moment of emotional depth from Emily gives insight to the bounds of her recent character growth.

“Poe shivered and picked absently at my cloak. ‘Keep away from the lords and ladies, little one,’ my mother always said. And I tried! When he came here with his questions, I hoped only that he would go away again, and quickly. But then his lordship made me such a lovely tree. They cannot all be terrible, can they?”

Though Poe fears the courtly fae, he offers a different perspective from Rose. Poe’s own mother warned him against associating with the higher Folk like Wendell, but even Poe recognizes something different in Wendell—the same qualities Emily herself is perplexed by.

“A constellation of emotions filled Poe’s face. There was terror again, but also a kind of awe and helpless delight. ‘He wishes this?’ he breathed. ‘To—to be our fjolskylda?’ I had not anticipated this, though upon reflection I can see why Poe would have made such an assumption. It is the nature of many household brownies—which Poe is, after a fashion, despite making his home away from human settlement—to tend to their mortal families when they are ill. But this attentiveness never extends beyond the members of the household. Asking for this degree of assistance for Wendell would be the height of strangeness, unless—”

A fjolskylda usually only ties themselves to one mortal or their direct family members. By telling Poe that Wendell wishes to be his fjolskylda, Emily is implying they’re already family. Though she’s yet to accept his proposal, Wendell must be considered family to gain Poe’s favor through Emily, foreshadowing the acceptance that’s soon to come from Emily.

“The stories are clear on this point—the Folk will always entice lost travellers farther into the wilderness with comforting deceptions: a distant glow, as from a cottage hearth; an easy path signifying the presence of other travellers. The correct path—that which might actually lead you back to civilization—is always treacherous or seemingly impassable.”

While lost in the fog, Emily mentions that the correct path is not always the easy one. Similarly, she later decides the easy path, to reject Wendell’s proposal, is not the right path for her. By accepting his proposal, Emily is choosing the “treacherous or seemingly impassable” path and having faith it’ll steer her right.

“I’ve never understood this addiction to vengeance many Folk have. I think it must be my grandmother’s blood. The oíche sidhe may not have the most patient tempers, but they do not concern themselves with revenge quests, for what do they have to do with the practicalities of running a household? No, Em—if I am killed, I give you permission to write a paper about it. I know you will find that a more satisfying endeavour.”

Throughout the novel, Wendell proves many times over that he’s different from the other Folk. His inability to understand the need for revenge his kind have points out another major difference between himself and the faeries Emily knows. His desire for Emily to write a paper about his death rather than get revenge showcases the depth and authenticity of his love for her, which goes beyond the traditional behaviors of the fae.

“I pushed open Wendell’s shirt and found the shadows clustering there too. I had been terrified to leave him, but equally terrified to remain at his side.”

When it comes to Wendell, Emily is torn between many things. She doesn’t know whether to reject or accept his proposal. She can’t decide whether to prioritize him or academia. Even her love for him conflicts with her desire to save him because she must leave his side to do so. This passage represents the many internal conflicts Emily struggles with throughout the novel.

“Having read that last entry over, I fear the emotion of last night overwhelmed my rational faculties. Let me attempt to clarify the events. I feel that, now more than ever, it is important to leave an accurate record of what may prove to be my last days alive. What melodrama! Yet I cannot see how it is inaccurate.”

After a journal entry depicting Emily’s emotional distress, she reflects and calls it “melodrama.” The descriptors she uses to reflect on recent weeks illustrates her growing struggle in Balancing Objectivity and Subjectivity. Her emotions are spiraling out of control, which is causing her research to do the same. Even her journal is not as reliable a narration as she expects it to be.

“Shadow seemed alarmed, his black eyes bulging—small wonder, for I am not normally partial to such displays of affection—but his tail had begun to thump against the floor. I could hear Rose sigh behind me, but I didn’t care. If the lesson I was meant to learn was that I was too close to the Folk, that I trusted in them too much, then I would refuse to learn it where Shadow was concerned. I kissed him again, and he licked my nose, unleashing the usual deathly smell of his breath.”

A recurring lesson that Rose attempts to impart on Emily throughout the novel is not to trust or underestimate the Folk. While Emily eventually learns to treat the local Folk this way, she continues to place her trust in Folk such as Shadow, Wendell, Poe, Snowbell, and Orga. In doing so, Emily proves that meaningful relationships with Folk are possible and despite their stereotypes, there are faeries who are trustworthy and affectionate. In the end, Rose learns this lesson, and Emily’s ability to prove it convinces her to accept Wendell’s proposal.

“With shaking hands, I accepted the small bundle of paper. It turned out to be a letter, hastily written and blotchy, folded into eighths. Tucked into one of the folds was a compass, which I barely glanced at, instead fixing all my attention on the letter.”

This simple passage illustrates Emily’s growth in terms of the genuine relationships in her life. Whereas in the past, she would have disregarded a letter as useless and ignored it in favor of the faerie artifact, Emily now exhibits more interest in words from her friends.

“Apart from a few bruises, she was largely unharmed, and now that the shock had worn off she seemed to view the attack as a thrilling tale ripe for scholarly documentation, and was already making notes on the subject. An entirely unhealthy response to attempted murder, of course; I have never been more convinced that she has the makings of a dryadologist.”

Ariadne’s characterization in this passage exemplifies her similarities to Emily. Emily has never had family who cared to know her deeply because none share her passions. Yet even the bubbly Ariadne has a ruthlessness and borderline-dangerous excitement for dryadology nearly identical to Emily’s own. This common ground bodes well for their ability to form a lasting relationship and gift Emily with the family she never had.

“She put a hand on my arm as I turned to go. ‘I put the remainder of Poe’s bread in your pack.’ It was such a small thing, and yet it was this that almost shattered my composure. Before the tears could escape me, I touched the side of her face in thanks, ignoring her startled expression—I do not believe I have ever touched her before, at least not in affection—and hurried away.”

Emily is nearly brought to tears by Ariadne’s simple act of putting bread in her pack. As much as Emily claims to prefer to do things alone, she yearns for the compassion of others that she never got from her own parents. Ariadne’s act of love elicits a rare affectionate touch from Emily which greatly deepens their growing relationship.

“I could see that my request pleased his vanity, that he had even been looking forward to it, and I could not help being reminded of little Snowbell, the smug pleasure he took in my reliance on him, and even Poe, always eager to present me with a fresh loaf.”

Emily often refuses to rely on others because she believes trusting someone else to be opening oneself up to the possibility of betrayal. Though it often comes from a place of vanity, many of the folk are eager to offer their aid, yet ultimately curse the mortals who accept it. However, while the beginning of this passage depicts one such Folk, the latter half illustrates trustworthy Folk such as Poe and Snowbell who’ve offered Emily aid without trickery or ill-intent. Taking note of this peculiarity allows Emily to reevaluate her view on the Folk and decide that perhaps some are trustworthy despite their stereotypes.

“Do you know? Rose asked me why I was not more surprised by your feat. He does not understand you as I do, Em, but as you seem to consider him a friend now, I told him the truth: in order to be surprised, I could not have known already that you are capable of anything.”

Wendell displays another key difference from the Folk, who are repeatedly claimed by scholars to be exceedingly arrogant and vain to a fault. Whereas even Rose lacked faith in Emily’s ability to succeed, Wendell has never underestimated Emily. His belief that she is not only capable of anything, but his willing admission later on that she is actually a better person than himself illustrates how different he is from the Folk and gives hope that their love story will not end in tragedy.

“I didn’t know what I wanted. I only knew that the villagers’ warmth unsettled me, and made me feel as if I were already coming unmoored from the world I knew. And what awaited me beyond the horizon?”

As Emily Wilde is a cozy fantasy series, each installment ends on a positive, wholesome note. Yet Emily’s unease in this passage hints at the turmoil to come in the third book, for despite each book ending in an ambiguous happily ever after, the next book always brings more potentially ill-fated adventures. This passage foreshadows the climactic final installment of the trilogy.