Marly Youmans

I suspect this is going to be one of those books that will come back to haunt me at later dates. It is hard to describe the emotion it evokes when Catherwood is lost in the wilderness with her child. I have been lost, for only a few hours, in a wood, and I recall how frightening it seemed to me to know that I had lost the trail and might not find it again. In my case, a search party would have been launched within hours, I’m sure, had I not returned; in this case, lost is lost and Catherwood must find her own path out of the true wilderness she has wandered into.

There is, it seems to me, a great symbolic arc to this story, along with the very realistic one of loss and desperation. I did not want the story to end as abruptly as it did, but I realized that the object of the tale had been achieved, and knowing more about what happened beyond that point might diminish, rather than enhance, the impact.

In the end, this book is hard to describe. It has a fairytale quality or an ancient folklore vibe. It has a poetic element that has nothing to do with rhythm, but with flow. The second half of it reads like it could be sung in Homeric ballad style. I seldom read anything that I feel is completely unique, but I would dare say this is.

The other odd thing about this book is that I stumbled upon it while just scanning through a list of books, never heard of it or the author, and picked it out of a list of some 200 titles. It was as if it called to me to read it, and read it now. I had no intention of doing so…my list of planned reads is long and pressing, and the time for reading this year is closing in. Then I came across it again in a friend’s 2022 plans. I felt compelled, so I abandoned the plans and read it today. Right book, right time. Occasionally, the literature gods smile upon us.
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