This book was lovely and there is going to be a sequel and I am really looking forward to it!
Opening Lines:
Shadow is not at all happy with me. He lies by the fire while the chill wind rattles the door, tail inert, staring out from beneath that shaggy forelock of his with the sort of accusatory resignation peculiar to dogs, as if to say: Of all the stupid adventures you've dragged me on, this will surely be the death of us. I fear I have to agree, though this makes me no less eager to begin my research.
(Shadow is a great name for a big black dog, by the way.)
This part made me actually laugh out loud and then Lex asked me what could be so funny:
I shoved him towards the cottage. "Get inside! You're bleeding!"
"I will not bleed any less indoors, you utter madwoman."
This passage represents this book very well:
The forest has a different quality now, girded with winter. It no longer dozes among its autumn finery like a king in silken bedclothes, but holds itself in tension, watchful and waiting. In moments like that, I am reminded of Gauthier's writings on woodlands and the nature of their appeal to the Folk. Specifically, the forest as liminal, a "middle-world" as Gauthier puts it, its roots burrowing deep into the earth as their branches yearn for the sky. Her scholarship tends towards the tautological and is not infrequently tedious (qualities she shares with a number of the continental dryadologists) yet there there is a sense to her words one only grasps after time spent among the Folk.
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