Callum Quinn, © 2020
The Bear and the Nightingale
By Katherine Arden
The (a) story follows Vasilisa Petrovna and her family, living deep in the forests of Russia back in the days of bitter winters and grim folktales told by the fireplace. Though she is small, she is fierce—born with an unbreakable spirit as well as an unusual gift: the second sight. As she grows up in her little village, Vasya learns to speak with horses, ride even better than a man, and make friends with the strange, and often mischievous, spirits that roam the nearby wilderness.
But when her widowed father comes home with a new wife who lives in fear of the old traditions, Vasya’s way of looking at the world suddenly becomes very dangerous. Yet even as her stepmother and the villagers come to fear and shun her, Vasya and her gifts may be all that stands between her people and an ever-growing darkness lying in wait in the woods.
The (A) story is a commentary on old traditions and ways of life vs new. The world of The Bear and the Nightingale is a world on the cusp of change: Christianity is on the rise, and while the spirits of fairy and folklore are acknowledged, they are no longer given offerings or allowed to walk among humankind without stirring up fear and misunderstanding. In fact, creatures that were once referred to as “spirits” suddenly fall within the category of “demons,” especially once the stepmother, Anna, enters the village.
The growing tension between these worldviews is most obviously demonstrated through Anna and Vasya. Anna is a devout Christian woman, cowering from the household spirits she sees around her and living in wariness of her unconventional step-daughter. Vasya, however, defies this new order of things from childhood onward, not only befriending the strange creatures of the hearth and the wood, but also recognizing her own ability to weave a little magic as the story progresses.
The conflicting personalities of Anna and Vasya also demonstrate the recurring duality of courage and fear found within the book. The great difference between Vasya and her stepmother is that Anna makes the conscious choice to cower away from the spirits, forever denying their place in the world and the help they bring to the village, while Vasya chooses to speak with them and get to know them for what they really are. This willingness to work with the spirits comes into play when Vasya attempts to save her family from the frost. Akin to the maiden whose story we are told at the beginning of the book, Vasya’s bravery wins her the admiration of the winter-king, who rewards her by momentarily lifting the harsh frost from her village.
As readers, we are led to believe that Anna, like the stepmother in the tale, would have frozen to death under the same circumstances; while Vasya manages to maintain a balance between the old spirits and the new, Anna’s fear and ignorance, along with the workings of the new village priest, prompts a reconstruction of long-held beliefs within the village. Each year, their fear of darkness and demons grows stronger—and so does the evil lurking in the woods. An evil, we are soon to learn, that feeds on fear.
But stronger than the villagers’ fear and ignorance is Vasya’s independence, and her blatant disregard for conventionality. Even as her world is on the brink of change, it is also stunted by baseless and outdated concepts, particularly on the roles that women play. Vasya’s reality is limited either to life in a convent or marriage to someone who will most likely see her as nothing more than a broodmare. And her refusal to accept these outcomes—on top of her connection to the spirit realm and her skill with horses—labels her as a witch and a wielder of black magic.
This is undoubtedly a commentary on the trials women have faced for centuries. As a woman who makes her own way in the world and even holds some semblance of power, Vasya is marked as “unnatural” and therefore “evil” by the same people who watched her grow up. And though she has never done anything to warrant such fear and suspicion, her presence within the village is seen as a contributing factor to the horrors that inevitably befall her people. Ironically, the more she uses her gifts to try and save them, the more she is condemned.
Throughout The Bear and the Nightingale we see old concepts and beliefs being challenged from all sides. Some, like Vasya’s free spirit in the face of a patriarchal society, represent a more positive, progressive transformation. However, others, such as the denial of the household spirits, lead to dire consequences for our characters. The world Vasya lives in is harsh, but luckily she has the courage to face it in her own unique way.
The Bear and the Nightingale is without a doubt my favorite kind of story. Its plot takes readers far away to vivid settings of steady snowfall and serene woodlands, complete with slight suggestions of romance and hints of danger hiding beneath the surface. Both beauty and darkness are boldly represented within this twist on timeless Russian folklore, and it all centers on a female protagonist who is both strong and memorable; a perfect role model for any young girl growing up in a harsh reality.
I literally had to force myself to slow down while reading this book because I just did not want it to end. And once it did, my first instinct was to go out and buy the next two books in the series. It is a perfect winter read—something wonderful and new to explore with a cup of hot cocoa by your side and a warm blanket wrapped around you.
