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Into the Forest: Tales of the Baba Yaga edited by Lindy Ryan with a foreword by Christina Henry

Cover art for Into the Forest; Tales of the Baba Yaga edited by Lindy Ryan

Into the Forest: Tales of the Baba Yaga with a foreword by Christina Henry, edited by Lindy Ryan

Black Spot Books, 2022

ISBN-13 ‎978-1645481232

Available: Paperback, Kindle edition, audiobook, audio CD  Bookshop.orgAmazon.com )

 

This anthology collects stories inspired by the Slavic folk character Baba Yaga, a child-eating witch with iron teeth who lives deep in the woods in a house with chicken feet, rides in a mortar and pestle, and can either help or hurt visitors, especially women, for a price, and depending on her whim. All the stories are by women writers of horror.

 

Standout pieces include Stephanie M. Wytovich’s vivid poem “Dinner Plans with Baba Yaga”; Gwendolyn Kiste’s “Last Tour into the Hungering Moonlight”, a real estate pitch that draws neighborhood women into the woods; Sara Tantlinger’s “Of Moonlight and Moss”, a fairytale that isn’t; “Wormwood” by Lindz MacLeod, and “Flood Zone” by Donna Lynch, both with the witch as justice-bringer, in very different ways; “Sugar and Spice and the Old Witch’s Price” is a dread-inducing counterpart to Kiste’s earlier story; “Herald the Knight” by Mercedes M. Yardley is Baba Yaga’s love story; Jill Baguchinsky’s “All Bitterness Burned Away” is an interesting reversal of Hansel and Gretel; “A Trail of Feathers, A Trail of Blood” by Stephanie M. Wytovich is a heartbreaking story that explores the true meaning of sacrifice; “Baba Yaga Learns to Shave, Gets Her Period, and Comes Into Her Own” by Jess Hagemann reflects the teenage girl’s experience of being trained to conform;  EV Knight’s memorable and powerful “Stork Bites”, in which Roe vs Wade has been dismantled, leaving an unusual method of illegal abortion, with disturbing consequences, as the only resort for ending a pregnancy; “Where The Horizon Meets the Sky” by R.J. Joseph is a sort of “Monkey’s Paw” tale; the vivid and gruesome “Maw Maw Yaga and the Hunter” by Alexandrea Weis; and the descriptive, poetic stories “Baba Yaga in Repose” by Heather Miller and “Shadow and Branch, Ghost Fruit Among The Lullabies” by Saba Syed Razvi.

There is a lot of variety in approach and interpretation. If you have an interest in Baba Yaga, witches, folklore, or supporting women writers, this is a collection to enjoy. Recommended.

 

Reviewed by Kirsten Kowalewski

Book Review: Burning Girls and Other Stories by Veronica Schanoes with a foreword by Jane Yolen

cover art for Burning Girls and Other Stories by Veronica Schanoes

Burning Girls and Other Stories by Veronica Schanoes with a foreword by Jane Yolen

Tor.com, 2021

ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1250781505

Available: Hardcover, paperback, Kindle edition, audiobook Bookshop.org  |  Amazon.com )

 

 

In Burning Girls and Other Stories, Veronica Schanoes brings the present day into a literary and folkloric past that brings fairytales, history, and Jewish tradition together to form something new and unique.  I don’t think I have ever  encountered new tales that blend Jewish tradition, history and religion in a way that feels familiar to me as a Jew, and the stories in the book that use this technique are, I think, the strongest ones in the book.

 

I had read the titular novella, Burning Girls, when it was originally published, and was wowed by it at the time (I was not the only one, it was nominated for a Nebula and World Fantasy Award and won the Shirley Jackson Award for best novella). In this story, a young woman who has been trained by her grandmother in herb lore, Jewish women’s rituals, and witchcraft, immigrates to the United States. Her sister has signed a contract with a lilit, a demon that steals children, and must discover the lilit’s name to break the contract. In addition to the religious lore, Schanoes interweaves the sewing factories’ unsafe conditions in the early 20th century, the growth of socialism, and the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire. The transformation of a Grimm’s fairytale into a story of Russian Jews’ immigration to and intergration in America created a stunning, tragic, and relevant story.

 

In Among the Thorns, Schanoes responds to an antisemitic story that appears in Grimm’s Fairy Tales, “The Jew Among Thorns”, in which a youth is rewarded by a dwarf with a fiddle that enchants anyone who hears it into dancing, a fowling piece that never misses, and the ability to have any request granted. He meets a Jew in the road and forces him to dance in nearby thornbushes and hand over his money. When the Jew lodges a complaint in the nearest village, and the youth is sentenced to hang, he plays the fiddle again, enchanting the town into dancing and using his power to have the Jew hanged instead.  Schanoes’ story is told from the point of view of the daughter of the victim, who agrees to a bargain with the Matronit, or Shekina, the goddess of Israel who appears in the Jewish Kabbalah, so she can take revenge on the fiddler and the town. What’s most chilling in this story is the context in which it’s set. While much of the story may seem just a tale, the first page mentions names and dates: the actual incidents may be fictional, but the antisemitism and antisemitic violence were not.

 

Emma Goldman Takes Tea with Baba Yaga is a wonderful metanarrative in which Schanoes plays with the conventions of fairytales and narrative nonfiction. Emma Goldman was a Jewish immigrant from Russia in the early 20th century who was a notorious anti-capitalist anarchist and was deported back to Russia after many years of activism in the United States, only to become disillusioned with the Russian Revolution. Schanoes begins by attempting to write Emma’s story in a fairytale format, but Goldman is a real and vivid figure in American history, and the details of her life are too important for that. Schanoes imagines Goldman, tired and disillusioned, meeting another controversial and legendary figure, Baba Yaga, and what that meeting would be like.  As a fan of both, I really enjoyed this.  Schanoes also takes this opportunity to speak directly to her readers about the impact of Marxism and revolution on the present day and her own beliefs, an interesting choice.

 

Phosphorous does not touch on Jewish religion or tradition, but is also a strong story. It describes the events and environment of  the London matchgirl strike of 1888, both from a third-person narrator’s point of view and from the point of view of Lucy, one of the striking workers who is fatally ill, deteriorating quickly due to her close contact with the white phosphorous the matches are made with. Her grandmother comes up with a terrible plan to keep Lucy alive long enough for her to see the end of the strike. Schanoes grounds this story in historical fact by including real people such as Annie Besant as characters, and suggesting that physical artifacts exist as evidence of the story.

 

Schanoes’ ability to seamlessly draw real events and people together with folklore and fairytale, even while breaking the fourth wall,  is impressive.  Other stories I haven’t described in detail seem hallucinatory, playing with language and imagery while also using literary or folkloric elements, such as Alice: A Fantasia and Serpents. Jane Yolen’s praise in the introduction that these stories have a “lyric beauty” that “bleeds onto the pages” is well-deserved.

 

Highly recommended.

 

Reviewed by Kirsten Kowalewski

Musings: Drawing on the Walls: The Boy Who Drew Cats

The Boy Who Drew Cats adapted by Lafcadio Hearn and Margaret Hodges, and illustrated by Aki Sogabe

Holiday House, 2002

ISBN-13: 978-0823415946

Available:  Used hardcover and paperback, Audible audiobook

 

I had a reader request the name of a book about a little boy drawing all over the walls. The classic story about a boy drawing himself into a story is Harold and the Purple Crayon by Crockett Johnson, but that didn’t seem quite right. I finally remembered a Japanese folktale about a boy who drew all over the walls of a temple and drove a demon away, and was able to find what I think is really the answer to this question; it’s a story called “The Boy Who Drew Cats”, and it has been adapted and illustrated many times. The copy pictured above was adapted by Lafcadio Hearn and Margaret Hodges, and illustrated by Aki Sogabe, but there are MANY other versions.

The story follows a young man who is obsessed with drawing cats; he draws only cats, but he draws them amazingly well. Forced to leave home to find a trade, he spends the night in an abandoned temple, with empty screens all around, just begging to be painted with cats. After painting the walls, the boy falls asleep, waking in the night to hear a tremendous fight. In the morning, he discovers a terrible rat demon, dead, and notices the cats on the screens are not in the same positions he had painted them in. His cats have defeated the monster and saved his life, revealing his artistic ability and enabling him to become a professional artist.

Walls can be the source of creativity, as they are in the nonfiction picture book Painting for Peace in Ferguson, a story about the creative approach the community of Ferguson took to beautify  and inspire neighborhoods where the buildings had been boarded up or defaced following demonstrations against police brutality that turned violent. They can become a personification of insanity or paranoia, as they are in Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper”, in which the protagonist has delusions of a trapped woman creeping behind the room’s wallpaper, or the whispers from her dead mother that one character hears in Amy Lukavics’ The Women in the Walls.

Walls can be an “in-between” place, as they are in Neil Gaiman’s The Wolves in the Walls and Coraline,  in which the main characters have to make choices about whether they will be passive or active participants in their own lives. If you are on the outside, walls can be a barrier you look to cross that conceal a treasure inside, as in The Secret Garden, and if you are on the inside they can be a trap– a haunted house that won’t let go, a locked-room mystery you can’t escape, like the inhabitants of the island in Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. If you are the builder, like Hugh Crain in The Haunting of Hill House, you can make the walls be disorienting and disturbing to inhabitants to influence their minds, and if you want to keep people away, like Baba Yaga, you can decorate with human skulls.

Or you can follow your passion where it goes, and both protect and beautify the world by transforming walls into something new, like the boy who drew cats.