I have apparently never read fantasy before The Wilderlands by R.E. Bellesmith (November 2024). I didn’t know that. I thought the various books I read involving magic and the like were fantasy. Apparently there are levels. For folks like me who see themselves more often reading literary fiction, I hope this review will act as a bit of a primer.
Fantasy authors don’t just world build — they invent language styles. When I started The Wilderlands I felt like I had stepped into a storybook (note: this is absolutely not for little ones) because the language is so rhythmic and dynamic. Also, because the narrator addresses the audience as though we are gathered together in close proximity to hear this story: “Come away from the freezing walls. Gather harthward, hold close those you love, fill your cup. I have an oft told tale from the far west that can spin you away from warsome winter and the howl-hungry things at our doors. Attend me now, while my bones can still bear it.”
It took some time to get accustomed to the language, as some words and many cultures were invented for the story, but I was invested enough in the characters and movement of the plot that I didn’t notice when I quit having to work to understand pieces.
I don’t know the traditional structures and archetypes of fantasy, so I can’t speak to how The Wilderlands works within them or subverts them, but I can say that the journey our protagonists take (through the titular Wilderlands) is worth traveling. The story is complex, compelling, tense, endearing. The characters are dynamic and complicated and their interactions (and the way they build relationships) are interesting.
Our narrator guides us through a story “that began as all things do: in fire.” The opening scenes are during battle. Following the battle, a warrior and two children, siblings, and a disgraced man from another clan find themselves journeying together through an environment that is unhospitable to human life. The siblings care for each other but don’t trust anyone; everyone is willing to kill each other. Each part of their journey brings them close to death and never quite closes the gaps in their distrust.
This book had so much depth and heart that I almost felt duped by the melodic language and colorful cover. I was reading about a journey, yes, but instead of a romp, I got a hike. It was a workout. And I needed it. I worry, now, what my genre-related blindspots are hiding and I feel grateful to be in a position where my reading patterns are disrupted. I hope that this book can disrupt that pattern for others.
I expected The Wilderlands to be fun. It was fun. But it was also layered and honest and heartbreaking. Bellesmith (the pen name of local indie author Isaac Hamlet, a former Little Village arts editor) clearly loves language and might be obsessed with story. This novel is a love letter to folktales and motley crews and the traumas we each must grow through: “[A]ll you keep in any life after this one is your name and the names of those you knew and liked in life…they are etched on your soul like cracks in clay.”
This article was originally published in Little Village’s January 2025 issue.
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