The wood at midwinter

With Christmas on the horizon, Ysolde kindly takes her sister Merowdis to the wintry wood in their carriage along with Apple the pig and the dogs Pretty and Amandier. These are but a few of Merowdis' extensive menagerie. Their parents are not happy about all the animals, nor do they approve of Merowdis' love of walking in the woods. When Ysolde says Merowdis is like a saint, Merowdis says a church and a wood are "the same thing really." She had hoped to be a nun, but the Abbess said she has "no aptitude for obedience." Now at 19, Merowdis is in a quandary; she does not want to marry her suitor, but she does want to have a child. As beloved fantasy writer Clarke's atmospheric and gently funny fable about the holiness of nature, so gracefully illustrated by Victoria Sawdon, unfurls, Merowdis experiences a transformative encounter. Also fascinating is Clarke's account of writing this tale in the wake of her novel Piranesi (2020), and of her passion for Kate Bush's music. For Clarke's fans, fantasy-lovers, and all who crave picture books for grown-ups.

Hugo Award winner Clarke (Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell) enchants with this bite-size Christmassy fairy tale. Readers meet sisters Isolde and Merowdis Scot on a snowy sleigh ride with Merowdis's two dogs and one pet pig (to say nothing of the cats, birds, ferret, and other wild creatures waiting for her at home). Merowdis, whom Isolde believes to be a saint due to her inability to comprehend the difference between animals and people, is misunderstood by the rest of the family and discouraged from visiting the nearby woods, but Isolde is happy to help her and her pets slip away on a nature walk. The trees show Merowdis a vision of herself as a mother to a wriggling bear cub, a destiny she happily embraces, despite knowing it will tear her from the human world. Sawdon's whimsical illustrations add charm, and a fascinating endnote from Clarke reveals her thought process while writing: "Snow always seems to me to signal a quietening of the spirit, a different sort of consciousness. And then obviously I added a pig, because there ought to be more pigs in books." The juxtaposition of thoughtful and sometimes unsettling atmospherics with quirky enjoyment delights. This is an ideal stocking stuffer. (Oct.)

Clarke, the Hugo Award-winning author of the beloved Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories, and Piranesi, which won the Women's Prize for Fiction, returns with a short story set in the world of Jonathan Strange. It features Merowdis Scot, who finds herself at a crossroad between desire and magical possibility. The story is brief, but what Clarke does well--conjure mood through evocative language and story suggestion--is on rich display. Highly atmospheric, this winter tale is set in a wood and navigates the line between a Grimms' fairy tale and a feminist manifesto. Talking animals as well as a sentient tree all play a role, as Merowdis decides what she wants and somehow makes it so. The story is illustrated with pen and ink drawings and specially designed text, giving the entire package the feeling of a manuscript found in a castle on the edge of some wild moor. Don't miss Clarke's note at the end. VERDICT Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell nods towards Jane Austen, but this short story leans towards the Brontës. Clarke's many fans will not be disappointed, other than in the story's brevity.--Neal Wyatt

A much-loved author shares a tale for Christmastime. In an afterword, Clarke tells readers how this story began as a BBC Radio 4 broadcast. Or, rather, she explains how her father's neurodivergence, her beliefs about the consciousness of trees, and the music of Kate Bush begat a tale in which a young woman sees her future during a walk in a snowy forest. The author also explains how she was certain thatJonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (2004) contained a footnote describing the city where her protagonist lives, but that it's gone now--probably removed by a fairy "for reasons of his or her own." It's laudable that Clarke wants her readers to experience the narrative without preamble, but this backstory reveals her charms as a writer in a way that the story itself does not. Our heroine, Merowdis Scot, feels most at home in the woods and most herself in the company of animals. Even her sister, Ysolde--who comes closer than anyone to understanding her--is no substitute for Merowdis' pig, her dogs, her many cats, or the spiders that weave their webs undisturbed in her room. Merowdis is taking a winter walk in the company of a trio of her four-legged companions when she encounters a fox and a blackbird and tells the wood of her desire for a child--a "midwinter child…A child to bring light into the darkness." Given that Merowdis can't imagine marrying and, given her ease with animals and unease around people, her wish will require a miracle that's very different from the miracle found in the Christmas story. Once Merowdis sees her fate, this tale takes on some of the uncanny truth of folklore. Getting to this point, though, means connecting with an "unconventional" heroine who is both familiar and unexceptional in both children's lit and books for grownups. Could this be a made-for-gifting book created to coincide with the 20th anniversary of Clarke's phenomenal debut? Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.