Muse reviewed Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow
In 1893, there's no such thing as witches. There used to be, in the wild, …
Review of 'Once and Future Witches' on 'Storygraph'
3 stars
By all outward signs I should have loved this book, but I just could not connect with it in the end.
The author has a beautiful writing style—it’s clear from the tone of the story, specific repetitions of phrases, and focus on immediate identifying details that they’re invoking the sparse yet fantastical style of the stories retold by the Brothers Grimm. This adds a fairytale sheen to an alternate world that may have a similar past to ours, but where the magic in those stories is very real. Despite the sparseness of this style, the author absolutely knows how to paint a compelling scene, and the later part of the book is full of fantastic set pieces for this dark tale about a trio of sisters rising above their past abuse and the misogyny they’ve experienced at the hands of society to become symbols of freedom and rebellion as witches.
These set pieces would’ve been thrilling to read had I cared more about the characters.
In service of this alternate universe fairytale, I think the author leaned a little too hard on the three main character’s assigned archetypes—Maiden, Mother, and Crone—because I can’t say much about them beyond those roles. They are reactive rather than proactive in a story that’s supposed to be about them breaking free of social expectations, feeling like they’re just following the scripts for their archetypes.
The rest of the characters get the shorter end of the stick. There’s a revolving door of side characters who never get much definition beyond hair color and a handful of lines. It feels like they exist just to embody the idea of a ‘movement’ kind of in the same way a chorus fills the role of the general public in musical theater. A lot of words are said about how they’re Sisters, just not in blood, and how they learn to count on each other, but we never really see it on the page, just told that the bond is there. This is most awkwardly exemplified in the scene towards the end of the book where one of the girls explains that she’s trans, and I had to spend a minute trying to remember which character she was.
The romance interests fare a bit better, but from their introductions alone it’s pretty clear what their roles are as well. While I understand that romance was not the focus of this book, I wish that there was more exploration about how these relationships made both parties better people rather than being used as a shortcut to overcome trauma so that the main characters can get back to dismantling the patriarchy.
The book also has a problem keeping its focus. The sisters are the core of this book, and the relationship between them is strongly emphasized. However, for a majority of the book the sisters each have a misunderstanding about their relationship, the kind that would be easy to resolve if they would just talk to each other about it. Instead, it takes over 300 pages of a 500 page book to fully resolve the misunderstandings, long after the plot has thrown them into numerous life or death situations where, if they didn’t care about each other, one or more of them would’ve been in deeper trouble. It’s hard to be invested in reading about a sibling relationships when the siblings themselves refuse to discuss it. There’s also the way the book meanders between perspectives, the aforementioned lack of meaningful detail for the side characters, the framing device of the suffragette movement and an alternate history that gradually gets dropped, and a mustache-twirling villain that was more horrifying when he was toned down a bit.
There’s more that I could go on about, but the core is this—the book needs the reader to buy into the main characters and their relationship, and since I wasn’t able to do that, the most I got out of this book was enjoying the pretty turns of phrase. There were times when I felt this book working its magic on me, when I would get pulled into a scene and I’d feel immersed in what the author was attempting—but then a perspective would shift, or a character I couldn’t remember would resurface, or there’d be a real world reference in the middle of performing magic, and I’d get thrown back out again. I wanted to like this book, but the magic just didn’t work on me.
The author has a beautiful writing style—it’s clear from the tone of the story, specific repetitions of phrases, and focus on immediate identifying details that they’re invoking the sparse yet fantastical style of the stories retold by the Brothers Grimm. This adds a fairytale sheen to an alternate world that may have a similar past to ours, but where the magic in those stories is very real. Despite the sparseness of this style, the author absolutely knows how to paint a compelling scene, and the later part of the book is full of fantastic set pieces for this dark tale about a trio of sisters rising above their past abuse and the misogyny they’ve experienced at the hands of society to become symbols of freedom and rebellion as witches.
These set pieces would’ve been thrilling to read had I cared more about the characters.
In service of this alternate universe fairytale, I think the author leaned a little too hard on the three main character’s assigned archetypes—Maiden, Mother, and Crone—because I can’t say much about them beyond those roles. They are reactive rather than proactive in a story that’s supposed to be about them breaking free of social expectations, feeling like they’re just following the scripts for their archetypes.
The rest of the characters get the shorter end of the stick. There’s a revolving door of side characters who never get much definition beyond hair color and a handful of lines. It feels like they exist just to embody the idea of a ‘movement’ kind of in the same way a chorus fills the role of the general public in musical theater. A lot of words are said about how they’re Sisters, just not in blood, and how they learn to count on each other, but we never really see it on the page, just told that the bond is there. This is most awkwardly exemplified in the scene towards the end of the book where one of the girls explains that she’s trans, and I had to spend a minute trying to remember which character she was.
The romance interests fare a bit better, but from their introductions alone it’s pretty clear what their roles are as well. While I understand that romance was not the focus of this book, I wish that there was more exploration about how these relationships made both parties better people rather than being used as a shortcut to overcome trauma so that the main characters can get back to dismantling the patriarchy.
The book also has a problem keeping its focus. The sisters are the core of this book, and the relationship between them is strongly emphasized. However, for a majority of the book the sisters each have a misunderstanding about their relationship, the kind that would be easy to resolve if they would just talk to each other about it. Instead, it takes over 300 pages of a 500 page book to fully resolve the misunderstandings, long after the plot has thrown them into numerous life or death situations where, if they didn’t care about each other, one or more of them would’ve been in deeper trouble. It’s hard to be invested in reading about a sibling relationships when the siblings themselves refuse to discuss it. There’s also the way the book meanders between perspectives, the aforementioned lack of meaningful detail for the side characters, the framing device of the suffragette movement and an alternate history that gradually gets dropped, and a mustache-twirling villain that was more horrifying when he was toned down a bit.
There’s more that I could go on about, but the core is this—the book needs the reader to buy into the main characters and their relationship, and since I wasn’t able to do that, the most I got out of this book was enjoying the pretty turns of phrase. There were times when I felt this book working its magic on me, when I would get pulled into a scene and I’d feel immersed in what the author was attempting—but then a perspective would shift, or a character I couldn’t remember would resurface, or there’d be a real world reference in the middle of performing magic, and I’d get thrown back out again. I wanted to like this book, but the magic just didn’t work on me.