An engaging , dark folk horror with a strong sense of family and community
If you take Alice Hoffman, Rachel Griffin, Erin A. Craig, and Krystal Sutherland I think that’s how you come up with Kate Pearsall and Bittersweet in the Hollow. The strong familial feel and solid community setting remind me greatly of Hoffman, while the atmosphere, imagery, and strong ties to geography reminds me of Griffin. The dark, folk magic and horror of the book definitely reminds me both of Craig and Sutherland. Whatever the influences, though, this was a fantastic read that snagged my attention from the first sentences and didn’t let up until the last page.
Bittersweet in the Hollow takes place over the course of a single summer. It starts with the disappearance of the previous year’s Moth Queen, which happens to occur on the anniversary of the day our protagonist, Linden, disappeared on the night of the Moth-Winged Man celebrations (also known as the Summer Solstice) and then reappeared the next morning with no memory of what had happened the night before. The Appalachian mountains are full of missing people, but in the small town of Caball Hollow, she’s the second of what’s now three known people to have disappeared on the night of the summer solstice and the only one to have come back. This fact doesn’t help matters when everyone knows that Linden and her family aren’t exactly the same as everyone else, though not everyone is exactly aware that the women of their family are witches.
Pearsall writes absolutely lovely narrative prose. It’s at turns dreamy, cozy, soft, and warm when Linden feels safe, loved, or content. When Linden was baking, this book made me so dang hungry! I mean, I love lemon lavender shortbread, but I started craving a batch while reading this. I loved all the root and herb lore woven into the cooking and baking passages in this book. It suited the plot and added another worldbuilding layer that helped deepen the atmosphere. I also loved how Pearsall wrote about Linden's particular magical talent, because it reminded me so much of synesthesia (even though I don’t know if that type of synesthesia has been uncovered).
The book also played a good game of whodunit, in more ways than one. Not only because we had to guess “folktale or reality” and “who attacked Linden last summer” (or were they one and the same?), but because even then we had a few different candidates for the win and I was down to three until the turn. It’s rare for a book to catch me like that, so I was pleased. It’s no fun guessing the perp early on.
This was a great read for a cloudy, fall day, but it was simply a terrific read overall.
Bittersweet in the Hollow takes place over the course of a single summer. It starts with the disappearance of the previous year’s Moth Queen, which happens to occur on the anniversary of the day our protagonist, Linden, disappeared on the night of the Moth-Winged Man celebrations (also known as the Summer Solstice) and then reappeared the next morning with no memory of what had happened the night before. The Appalachian mountains are full of missing people, but in the small town of Caball Hollow, she’s the second of what’s now three known people to have disappeared on the night of the summer solstice and the only one to have come back. This fact doesn’t help matters when everyone knows that Linden and her family aren’t exactly the same as everyone else, though not everyone is exactly aware that the women of their family are witches.
Pearsall writes absolutely lovely narrative prose. It’s at turns dreamy, cozy, soft, and warm when Linden feels safe, loved, or content. When Linden was baking, this book made me so dang hungry! I mean, I love lemon lavender shortbread, but I started craving a batch while reading this. I loved all the root and herb lore woven into the cooking and baking passages in this book. It suited the plot and added another worldbuilding layer that helped deepen the atmosphere. I also loved how Pearsall wrote about Linden's particular magical talent, because it reminded me so much of synesthesia (even though I don’t know if that type of synesthesia has been uncovered).
The book also played a good game of whodunit, in more ways than one. Not only because we had to guess “folktale or reality” and “who attacked Linden last summer” (or were they one and the same?), but because even then we had a few different candidates for the win and I was down to three until the turn. It’s rare for a book to catch me like that, so I was pleased. It’s no fun guessing the perp early on.
This was a great read for a cloudy, fall day, but it was simply a terrific read overall.