Book Review: Dragonwitch

Buy it here

When fantasy-author Anne Elisabeth Stengl asked for a group of people to read advance-copies of her book, Dragonwitch, I signed up. I was a little leery of what this book might be, as dragons are frightful enough without being witches. But as soon as I read the prologue of the fifth book in The Tales of Goldstone Wood series, I knew I was in for something quite different than I'd pictured:

    Generations had passed in the mortal world above as the brothers battled and then lay still. At last Etanun roused himself and turned to Akilun. "Brother, I have sinned," he began, but the words vanished from his lips.
     Akilun was dead.

Brother-plots have always been a favorite of mine, so knowing that Dragonwitch started with a few pages that almost made me cry definitely set the tone for the rest of the novel.

The description from the back of the book:

     Submissive to her father's will, Lady Leta of Aiven travels far to meet a prospective husband she neither knows nor loves - Lord Alistair, future king of the North Country.
     But within the walls of his castle, all is not right. Vicious night terrors plague Lord Alistair. Whispers rise from the family crypt. The reclusive castle Chronicler, Leta's tutor and friend, possesses a secret so dangerous it could cost his life and topple the entire nation.
     And far away in a hidden kingdom, a flame burns atop the Citadel of the Living fire. Acolytes and priestesses serve their goddess to the limits of their lives and deaths. No one is safe while the Dragonwitch searches for the sword that slew her twice...and for the hero who can wield it.

It is a rare book that I actually like more than I hoped, for too often I have a higher expectation of a book than it actually merits. But with Anne Elisabeth Stengl's Dragonwitch, I found wrenching, beautiful allegories thrown in amongst the characters in an effortless way, and though I had never read a Goldstone Wood tale before, I hope to have the chance to visit the Wood Between the Worlds again soon.

What I liked about Dragonwitch:

Etanun's story, and the portrayal of Hri Sora, the Dragonwitch herself. I don't think there is a finer portrayal of goodness-gone-sour and though I despised the Hri Sora, my heart broke for her. I also have a fondness for The Chronicler, and Mouse. Funny, because they don't end up together, but they were my two favorites. And of course Eanrin, the Cat-Man; how can you not love him? Does anyone else picture him as played by Kenneth Branagh? :D
I also loved the way the author wove Truth all through the pages; like I said: sometimes I felt like I was reading a beautiful allegory which is a mark of fine writing, in my opinion.

What I didn't like about Dragonwitch:

At the beginning I didn't know Alistair well enough to care about his night-terrors, so I was more impatient than sympathetic when he would wander about in a clammy daze; however, afterward I grew to love Alistair, so I don't think the sudden introduction of his dream-problem had an adverse effect in the end.

Also, for the first third of the book I felt confused over which world was which, who was who, and had difficulty remembering names (i.e. to the new reader, "Etanun" and "Eanrin" are easily confused). But I believe this has far more to do with the fact that I'm jumping in on the series with Book 5 and would not have that confusion had I started where one is supposed to start.

Final words:

Read Dragonwitch. Read it twice. And then pass it on to your friends so they can read it. While not quite a challenging read for an adult in terms of dialog and theme, it is a beautiful book to pass a week of rainy evenings with, and you will find therein much to love, admire, and ponder. I give Dragonwitch 4 out of 5 stars. (I rarely {if ever?} give any book 5 stars if that gives you an idea of how good I think it is.)

Quotables:

   "The little man swallowed, his jaw clenching. 'This...this is the Haven of the Lumil Eliasul. The Haven of the Prince of the Farthest Shore. Built by the brothers Ashiun.'
    'Well done, Chronicler,' said Eanrin. 'You've done your research.'
    'I don't believe in this place.'
    'I don't see what your lack of belief has to do with anything.'
    'And you're Bard Eanrin.'
    'That I am.'
    'I don't believe in you either.'"

***

    "'Love is a terrible thing,' Mouse whispered.
     'Only love gone astray,' said the prisoner. 'the time has come you should be frightened. If fear will awaken you, be afraid! and then be courageous in your fear and act.'"

*** 

Don't forget to enter your questions about The Baby in the post below!! 

If you would know Love, you must know pain too.

The allegory is a form of literature seldom discussed in the literary/writing worlds. Everyone knows Pilgrim's Progress, though in recent years it has not been as popular. I suppose the most famous allegory in modern literature (though the author said he hadn't intended for it to be taken literally as an allegory) would be The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. I can't tell you how many times I've been moved to tears by the beautiful portrayal of the Gospel in the story.

In a way we are all writing allegories--after all, if you've ever looked into Epic by John Eldredge you will realize that all stories are but dim reflections of the one Story that is written by the Author and Finisher of our faith. I loved Epic, for it was a good chance to step backward and view our lives on earth as part of God's plan for the world.

I have never tried writing a true allegory, however. I think it must be rather hard, for one must be sure one's theology is sound [or if it is sound, be sure it comes across that way]. The writer of the allegory is, in part, responsible for how the Gospel is presented--your character strength, your morals, everything must be heightened in order to be faithful to the Story you are trying to tell. It is rather a serious undertaking, I should think. And thus, I am not trying to write a post detailing how to write an allegory. I did, however, wish to share with you my favorite allegory--one that I can truly say revolutionized my relationship with Christ when I first read it five or six years ago.

This book is not well known--at least, I surmise that much from the very little bit about it that came up in a quick Google search. It's called Hind's Feet on the High Places and is written by a woman named Hannah Hurnard. I think what I gained most from this valiant little book was the character of the Good Shepherd as he dealt with Much Afraid. He is tender and loving, yet strong and inflexible:

“O Shepherd. You said you would make my feet like hinds' feet and set me upon High Places".

"Well", he answered "the only way to develop hinds' feet is to go by the paths which the hinds use.”                                                  -Hind's Feet on the High Places

 I am very like Much-Afraid, I realized. I need my Good Shepherd, and I can come to Him at any point in time. He will always be there with me, even when I can not see Him. It was a profound realization for me--a young girl who desired such a relationship but did not know how to begin. And so I began as Much-Afraid did. I began by putting my hand in Christ's and talking to Him. Telling Him things, asking Him questions, and over all, trusting Him implicitly.

Beyond the obvious wisdom and inspiration to be gleaned from this book, it is beautifully written by a masterful, gentle, passionate pen. The whole book is full of poignant descriptions and parallels.You will love it and be changed by it, I know.

“She bent forward to look, then gave a startled little cry and drew back. There was indeed a seed lying in the palm of his hand, but it was shaped exactly like a long, sharply-pointed thorn… ‘The seed looks very sharp,’ she said shrinkingly. ’Won’t it hurt if you put it into my heart?’

He answered gently, ‘It is so sharp that it slips in very quickly. But, Much-Afraid, I have already warned you that Love and Pain go together, for a time at least. If you would know Love, you must know pain too.’

Much-Afraid looked at the thorn and shrank from it. Then she looked at the Shepherd’s face and repeated his words to herself. ’When the seed of Love in your heart is ready to bloom, you will be loved in return,’ and a strange new courage entered her. She suddenly stepped forward, bared her heart, and said, ‘Please plant the seed here in my heart.’

His face lit up with a glad smile and he said with a note of joy in his voice, ‘Now you will be able to go with me to the High Places and be a citizen in the Kingdom of my Father.’

Then he pressed the thorn into her heart. It was true, just as he had said, it did cause a piercing pain, but it slipped in quickly and then, suddenly, a sweetness she had never felt or imagined before tingled through her. It was bittersweet, but the sweetness was the stronger. She thought of the Shepherd’s words, ‘It is so happy to love,’ and her pale, sallow cheeks suddenly glowed pink and her eyes shown. For a moment Much-Afraid did not look afraid at all.”
― Hannah Hurnard, Hinds' Feet on High Places