The Bear and the Nightingale: A Novel (Winternight Trilogy Book 1) by Katherine Arden (Epub)

Description

Winter lasts most of the year at the edge of the Russian wilderness, and in the long nights, Vasilisa and her siblings love to gather by the fire to listen to their nurse’s fairy tales. Above all, Vasya loves the story of Frost, the blue-eyed winter demon. Wise Russians fear him, for he claims unwary souls, and they honor the spirits that protect their homes from evil.

Then Vasya’s widowed father brings home a new wife from Moscow. Fiercely devout, Vasya’s stepmother forbids her family from honoring their household spirits, but Vasya fears what this may bring. And indeed, misfortune begins to stalk the village.

But Vasya’s stepmother only grows harsher, determined to remake the village to her liking and to groom her rebellious stepdaughter for marriage or a convent. As the village’s defenses weaken and evil from the forest creeps nearer, Vasilisa must call upon dangerous gifts she has long concealed—to protect her family from a threat sprung to life from her nurse’s most frightening tales.

Praise for The Bear and the Nightingale

“Arden’s debut novel has the cadence of a beautiful fairy tale but is darker and more lyrical.”—The Washington Post

“Vasya [is] a clever, stalwart girl determined to forge her own path in a time when women had few choices.”—The Christian Science Monitor

“Stunning . . . will enchant readers from the first page. . . . with an irresistible heroine who wants only to be free of the bonds placed on her gender and claim her own fate.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“Utterly bewitching . . . a lush narrative . . . an immersive, earthy story of folk magic, faith, and hubris, peopled with vivid, dynamic characters, particularly clever, brave Vasya, who outsmarts men and demons alike to save her family.”—Booklist (starred review)

“An extraordinary retelling of a very old tale . . . The Bear and the Nightingale is a wonderfully layered novel of family and the harsh wonders of deep winter magic.”—Robin Hobb

User’s Reviews

Review “Arden’s debut novel has the cadence of a beautiful fairy tale but is darker and more lyrical.”—The Washington Post“Vasya [is] a clever, stalwart girl determined to forge her own path in a time when women had few choices.”—The Christian Science Monitor“Stunning . . . will enchant readers from the first page. . . . with an irresistible heroine who wants only to be free of the bonds placed on her gender and claim her own fate.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review) “Utterly bewitching . . . a lush narrative . . . an immersive, earthy story of folk magic, faith, and hubris, peopled with vivid, dynamic characters, particularly clever, brave Vasya, who outsmarts men and demons alike to save her family.”—Booklist (starred review) “Arden’s supple, sumptuous first novel transports the reader to a version of medieval Russia where history and myth coexist.”—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)“Radiant . . . a darkly magical fairy tale for adults, [but] not just for those who love magic.”—Library Journal“An extraordinary retelling of a very old tale . . . A Russian setting adds unfamiliar spice to the story of a young woman who does not rebel against the limits of her role in her culture so much as transcend them. The Bear and the Nightingale is a wonderfully layered novel of family and the harsh wonders of deep winter magic.”—Robin Hobb “A beautiful deep-winter story, full of magic and monsters and the sharp edges of growing up.”—Naomi Novik“Haunting and lyrical, The Bear and the Nightingale tugs at the heart and quickens the pulse. I can’t wait for Katherine Arden’s next book.”—Terry Brooks “The Bear and the Nightingale is a marvelous trip into an ancient Russia where magic is a part of everyday life.”—Todd McCaffrey “Enthralling and enchanting—I couldn’t put it down. This is a wondrous book!”—Tamora Pierce Amazon.com Review An Amazon Best Book of January 2017: There’s a small but mighty space where fantasy and literary fiction can clasp hands and create a brilliant story that resonates in the soul. The Bear and the Nightingale lives squarely in that space, and those who dare to visit this novel will leave entranced. Set in the fourteenth century in the bitter north, a two-week ride from the rough city of Moscow, this mesmerizing tale centers on Vasya Petronova, a girl who barely survives birth (her mother doesn’t) and grows up with a secret affinity for the sprites and demons that live in and around her village. “A wild thing new-caught and just barely groomed into submission” is how her father imagines her, and he’s not wrong. As her family tries to harness her into the typical domestic life of a young noblewoman, Vasya spends more and more time among the sprites and soon gets caught between two old and powerful gods struggling for domination over her part of the world. Arden’s debut novel builds like a thunderstorm, with far-off disquieting rumblings that escalate into a clash between sprites and humans, ancient religions and new, honor and ambition. If you haven’t picked up a Russian-style novel lately, it can take a few chapters to recall that each character has a handful of nicknames you have to keep track of and that various storylines may take their time in weaving back into the main plot, but it’s well worth the effort. And while I think there are only a dozen or so novels in this world that have a perfect ending, I would put The Bear and the Nightingale high on that list. –Adrian Liang, The Amazon Book Review –This text refers to the hardcover edition. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. It was late winter in northern Rus’, the air sullen with wet that was neither rain nor snow. The brilliant February landscape had given way to the dreary gray of March, and the household of Pyotr Vladimirovich were all sniffling from the damp and thin from six weeks’ fasting on black bread and fermented cabbage. But no one was thinking of chilblains or runny noses, or even, wistfully, of porridge and roast meats, for Dunya was to tell a story.That evening, the old lady sat in the best place for talking: in the kitchen, on the wooden bench beside the oven. This oven was a massive affair built of fired clay, taller than a man and large enough that all four of Pyotr Vladimirovich’s children could have fit easily inside. The flat top served as a sleeping platform; its innards cooked their food, heated their kitchen, and made steam-baths for the sick.“What tale will you have tonight?” Dunya inquired, enjoying the fire at her back. Pyotr’s children sat before her, perched on stools. They all loved stories, even the second son, Sasha, who was a self-consciously devout child, and would have insisted—had anyone asked him—that he preferred to pass the evening in prayer. But the church was cold, the sleet outside unrelenting. Sasha had thrust his head out-of-doors, gotten a faceful of wet, and retired, vanquished, to a stool a little apart from the others, where he sat affecting an expression of pious indifference.The others set up a clamor on hearing Dunya’s question: “Finist the Falcon!”“Ivan and the Gray Wolf!” “Firebird! Firebird!”Little Alyosha stood on his stool and waved his arms, the better to be heard over his bigger siblings, and Pyotr’s boarhound raised its big, scarred head at the commotion.But before Dunya could answer, the outer door clattered open and there came a roar from the storm without. A woman appeared in the doorway, shaking the wet from her long hair. Her face glowed with the chill, but she was thinner than even her children; the fire cast shadows in the hollows of cheek and throat and temple. Her deep-set eyes threw back the firelight. She stooped and seized Alyosha in her arms.The child squealed in delight. “Mother!” he cried. “Matyushka!” Marina Ivanovna sank onto her stool, drawing it nearer the blaze.Alyosha, still clasped in her arms, wound both fists around her braid. She trembled, though it was not obvious under her heavy clothes. “Pray the wretched ewe delivers tonight,” she said. “Otherwise I fear we shall never see your father again. Are you telling stories, Dunya?”“If we might have quiet,” said the old lady tartly. She had been Marina’s nurse, too, long ago.“I’ll have a story,” said Marina at once. Her tone was light, but her eyes were dark. Dunya gave her a sharp glance. The wind sobbed outside. “Tell the story of Frost, Dunyashka. Tell us of the frost-demon, the winter-king Karachun. He is abroad tonight, and angry at the thaw.”Dunya hesitated. The elder children looked at each other. In Russian, Frost was called Morozko, the demon of winter. But long ago, the people called him Karachun, the death-god. Under that name, he was king of black midwinter who came for bad children and froze them in the night. It was an ill-omened word, and unlucky to speak it while he still held the land in his grip. Marina was holding her son very tightly. Alyosha squirmed and tugged his mother’s braid.“Very well,” said Dunya after a moment’s hesitation. “I shall tell the story of Morozko, of his kindness and his cruelty.” She put a slight emphasis on this name: the safe name that could not bring them ill luck. Marina smiled sardonically and untangled her son’s hands. None of the others made any protest, though the story of Frost was an old tale, and they had all heard it many times before. In Dunya’s rich, precise voice it could not fail to delight.“In a certain princedom—” began Dunya. She paused and fixed a quelling eye upon Alyosha, who was squealing like a bat and bouncing in his mother’s arms.“Hush,” said Marina, and handed him the end of her braid again to play with.“In a certain princedom,” the old lady repeated, with dignity, “there lived a peasant who had a beautiful daughter.”“Whasser name?” mumbled Alyosha. He was old enough to test the authenticity of fairy tales by seeking precise details from the tellers.“Her name was Marfa,” said the old lady. “Little Marfa. And she was beautiful as sunshine in June, and brave and good-hearted besides. But Marfa had no mother; her own had died when she was an infant. Although her father had remarried, Marfa was still as motherless as any orphan could be. For while Marfa’s stepmother was quite a handsome woman, they say, and she made delicious cakes, wove fine cloth, and brewed rich kvas, her heart was cold and cruel. She hated Marfa for the girl’s beauty and goodness, favoring instead her own ugly, lazy daughter in all things. First the woman tried to make Marfa ugly in turn by giving her all the hardest work in the house, so that her hands would be twisted, her back bent, and her face lined. But Marfa was a strong girl, and perhaps possessed a bit of magic, for she did all her work un- complainingly and went on growing lovelier and lovelier as the years passed.“So the stepmother—” seeing Alyosha’s open mouth, Dunya added, “—Darya Nikolaevna was her name—finding she could not make Marfa hard or ugly, schemed to rid herself of the girl once and for all. Thus, one day at midwinter, Darya turned to her husband and said, ‘Husband, I believe it is time for our Marfa to be wed.’“Marfa was in the izba cooking pancakes. She looked at her step- mother with astonished joy, for the lady had never taken an interest in her, except to find fault. But her delight quickly turned to dismay.“ ‘—And I have just the husband for her. Load her into the sledge and take her into the forest. We shall wed her to Morozko, the lord of winter. Can any maiden ask for a finer or richer bridegroom? Why, he is master of the white snow, the black firs, and the silver frost!’“The husband—his name was Boris Borisovich—stared in horror at his wife. Boris loved his daughter, after all, and the cold embrace of the winter god is not for mortal maidens. But perhaps Darya had a bit of magic of her own, for her husband could refuse her nothing. Weeping, he loaded his daughter into the sledge, drove her deep into the forest, and left her at the foot of a fir tree.“Long the girl sat alone, and she shivered and shook and grew colder and colder. At length, she heard a great clattering and snapping. She looked up to behold Frost himself coming toward her, leaping among the trees and snapping his fingers.”“But what did he look like?” Olga demanded.Dunya shrugged. “As to that, no two tellers agree. Some say he is naught but a cold, crackling breeze whispering among the firs. Others say he is an old man in a sledge, with bright eyes and cold hands. Others say he is like a warrior in his prime, but robed all in white, with weapons of ice. No one knows. But something came to Marfa as she sat there; an icy blast whipped around her face, and she grew colder than ever. And then Frost spoke to her, in the voice of the winter wind and the falling snow:“ ‘Are you quite warm, my beauty?’“Marfa was a well-brought-up girl who bore her troubles uncomplainingly, so she replied, ‘Quite warm, thank you, dear Lord Frost.’ At this, the demon laughed, and as he did, the wind blew harder than ever. All the trees groaned above their heads. Frost asked again, ‘And now? Warm enough, sweetheart?’ Marfa, though she could barely speak from the cold, again replied, ‘Warm, I am warm, thank you.’ Now it was a storm that raged overhead; the wind howled and gnashed its teeth until poor Marfa was certain it would tear the skin from her bones. But Frost was not laughing now, and when he asked a third time: ‘Warm, my darling?’ she answered, forcing the words between frozen lips as blackness danced before her eyes, ‘Yes . . . warm. I am warm, my Lord Frost.’“Then he was filled with admiration for her courage and took pity on her plight. He wrapped her in his own robe of blue brocade and laid her in his sledge. When he drove out of the forest and left the girl by her own front door, she was still wrapped in the magnificent robe and bore also a chest of gems and gold and silver ornaments. Marfa’s father wept with joy to see the girl once more, but Darya and her daughter were furious to see Marfa so richly clad and radiant, with a prince ’s ransom at her side. So Darya turned to her husband and said, ‘Husband, quickly! Take my daughter Liza up in your sledge. The gifts that Frost has given Marfa are nothing to what he will give my girl!’“Though in his heart Boris protested all this folly, he took Liza up in his sledge. The girl was wearing her finest gown and wrapped in heavy fur robes. Her father took her deep into the woods and left her beneath the same fir tree. Liza in turn sat a long time. She had begun to grow very cold, despite her furs, when at last Frost came through the trees, cracking his fingers and laughing to himself. He danced right up to Liza and breathed into her face, and his breath was the wind out of the north that freezes skin to bone. He smiled and asked, ‘Warm enough, darling?’ Liza, shuddering, answered, ‘Of course not, you fool! Can you not see that I am near perished with cold?’“The wind blew harder than ever, howling about them in great, tearing gusts. Over the din he asked, ‘And now? Quite warm?’ The girl shrieked back, ‘But no, idiot! I am frozen! I have never been colder in my life! I am waiting for my bridegroom Frost, but the oaf hasn’t come.’ Hearing this, Frost’s eyes grew hard as adamant; he laid his fingers on her throat, leaned forward, and whispered into the girl’s ear, ‘Warm now, my pigeon?’ But the girl could not answer, for she had died when he touched her and lay frozen in the snow.“At home, Darya waited, pacing back and forth. ‘Two chests of gold at least,’ she said, rubbing her hands. ‘A wedding-dress of silk velvet and bridal-blankets of the finest wool.’ Her husband said nothing. The shadows began to lengthen and there was still no sign of her daughter. At length, Darya sent her husband out to retrieve the girl, admonishing him to have care with the chests of treasure. But when Boris reached the tree where he had left his daughter that morning, there was no treasure at all: only the girl herself, lying dead in the snow. “With a heavy heart, the man lifted her in his arms and bore her back home. The mother ran out to meet them. ‘Liza,’ she called. ‘My love!’“Then she saw the corpse of her child, huddled up in the bottom of the sledge. At that moment, the finger of Frost touched Darya’s heart, too, and she fell dead on the spot.”There was a small, appreciative silence.Then Olga spoke up plaintively. “But what happened to Marfa? Did she marry him? King Frost?”“Cold embrace, indeed,” Kolya muttered to no one in particular, grinning.Dunya gave him an austere look, but did not deign to reply.“Well, no, Olya,” she said to the girl. “I shouldn’t think so. What use does Winter have for a mortal maiden? More likely she married a rich peasant, and brought him the largest dowry in all Rus’.”Olga looked ready to protest this unromantic conclusion, but Dunya had already risen with a creaking of bones, eager to retire. The top of the oven was large as a great bed, and the old and the young and the sick slept upon it. Dunya made her bed there with Alyosha.The others kissed their mother and slipped away. At last Marina herself rose. Despite her winter clothes, Dunya saw anew how thin she had grown, and it smote the old lady’s heart. It will soon be spring, she comforted herself. The woods will turn green and the beasts give rich milk. I will make her pie with eggs and curds and pheasant, and the sun will make her well again.But the look in Marina’s eyes filled the old nurse with foreboding. –This text refers to the hardcover edition. From School Library Journal Reading Arden’s debut novel is like listening to an entrancing tale spun out over nights in the best oral tradition. This mesmerizing fantasy takes place in medieval Russia, at a time when women had but two choices in life: serve their appointed husband by bearing his children and taking care of his household, or serve God in a convent. Vasilisa Petrovna refuses to do either. She has been a wild thing since birth, escaping her household duties to run free in the forest and conversing with spirits only she can see. But Vasilisa’s behavior is taken in stride until a charismatic priest comes to her father’s village, convincing his patronage that their custom of leaving offerings to curry favor from the spirits is sacrilege. Vasilisa knows that if this practice is stopped, the spirits will grow weak and be unable to defend the village when evil comes knocking. When first crops and then villagers begin to die, Vasilisa’s unladylike behavior and refusal to follow the priest’s teachings mark her as a witch in the villagers’ eyes. But she is not the one who is bargaining with the devil. Vasilisa is a strong female protagonist whom teen girls will want to emulate. She knows her own mind and heart and refuses to succumb to societal expectations, and her beauty stems from self-confidence rather than physical appearance. Arden’s lyrical writing will draw teens in and refuse to let them go. VERDICT A spellbinding story that will linger with most readers far beyond the final page.—Cary Frostick, formerly at Mary Riley Styles Public Library, Falls Church, VA –This text refers to the hardcover edition.

Reviews from Amazon users, collected at the time the book is getting published on UniedVRG. It can be related to shiping or paper quality instead of the book content:

⭐ Let me put this within a context that might resonate better. So, imagine if I opined that all Muslims are terrorists and that anyone who isn’t heterosexual is evil and less deserving of compassion and love. How fast would it take you to flag this review?This book went from a story premised on Russian folklore to one that not only degrades Christians, but it also characterizes them as duplicitous and malevolent.Look, real-life comprises layers and nuances and not one group is completely good or bad, but to malign, for instance, an entire race because of prejudice and/or ignorance is not acceptable to me; not unless such is required to advance the story. And quite frankly, I don’t believe that Arden adequately justifies this plot device; which makes it seem like a self-indulgent, deliberate, and malicious subversion of Orthodox Christianity.In the end, and by juxtaposing mysticism with Orthodoxy in a “good v bad” battle (with Christianity being all bad), Arden allowed her personal bias and prejudice interfere with the organic flow of what could have been a rather enthralling read. And I couldn’t help but wonder if she would have dared insinuate this sort of drivel about the Ottoman Empire, or Islam for that matter.

⭐ I think I was misled by many of the reviews and reviewers here.The book started off relatively strong, with a strong dose of seeming historical realism and a touch of magic realism and elements of Russian folk lore.However, as the novel progressed it became more cliched, following a standard “young adult” template, in my opinion.This is definitely “chick lit” (I know this term can be offensive, but I believe it’s true and applicable, in this case. I suspect the overwhelming number of readers and reviewers here are female). Morozko, who starts out as a mysterious elemental force, becomes, by the end, a kind of young adult female fantasy figure–a kind of combination Mr. Rochester, Heathcliff, and distant but attractive generic “bad boy”–and at the very end, even a kind of banal “Laurel and Hardy” partner in crime.Vasya’s time in Morozko’s “house” has a “Nutcracker”-ish flavor to me–the young girl’s fantasy of the “snow prince.” Again, a very “chick lit”-ish trope.The final climax was anticlimactic for me, and the final emotions, words, and actions seemed not fully earned to me, and sometimes devolved into pulp fiction cliches.I wished for more and I wished for better, at the end. Probably won’t proceed to the second book.P.S. And if one more character spoke with “asperity,” I was planning to rip that word out of my dictionary. And if Morozko “raised his eyebrow” one more time, I was going to send him to a waxing salon.

⭐ This is the second retelling of the Russian fairy tale “Vasilisa the Beautiful” to appear in recent months. The other one, Sarah Porter’s Vassa in the Night, sticks much closer to the original story, even though it is set in modern Brooklyn (where witch Baba Yaga runs a convenience store chain). This one, although it retains the overall feeling of a fairy tale, doesn’t follow the specific plot of the Vasilisa tale very much. On the other hand, it makes real the environment in which the original tale probably developed: Medieval (1300s) Russia, especially its heavily forested, bitterly cold northern portion. I learned interesting details of the way people coped with that environment, such as sleeping on top of the big family oven to stay warm.There are two main conflicts in the story. One is between two brothers, both spirits of Winter and Death, but one relatively benign and the other essentially evil. The other, which I found the more interesting of the two, was the conflict between the traditional pagan beliefs of the Northern people, featuring different spirits that guard homes, horses, forest, and more, and the relatively new and monotheistic Christianity, here presented (in the form of charismatic priest Father Konstantin) as primarily a religion of fear. The contrast is vividly presented in the difference between Vasya (Vasilisa) and her stepmother, Anna Ivanovna, the only two characters who can see the spirits: Vasya finds most of them friendly and treats them with kindness and respect, but to Anna, obsessed with the new religion, they are all demons.The story focuses on Vasya’s learning how to deal with both of these conflicts and their consequences as she grows to maturity, but it also develops a third, somewhat less obvious conflict: between Vasya’s independent personality, as free and nature-oriented as those of the spirits she befriends, and the very limited range of roles and behavior considered acceptable for women of her time and place, even those who, like herself, belong to a basically loving and relatively well-to-do family. She earns her fairy-tale ending, but I wondered what she would have done if she had not had magic to help her.

⭐ I thought I would love this book, but honestly, it was work to finish it. I was looking for a pleasurable read and instead found the storyline so confusing and the characters so hard to understand. I’m not sure what the point was. I kept reading to the end, but I wish I had stopped reading it much sooner and spent my time on a true pleasureable read. I don’t understand the hype that surrounds this book at all.

⭐ “Tell the story of Frost, Dunyashka. Tell us of the frost-demon, the winter-king Karachun.”This book is magical. This book is whimsical. This book is one of the best things I’ve read in my entire life. I loved this with every bone, every red blood cell, every molecule in my body. This book was nothing short of perfection, and I’m sorry to gush, but I never expected this story to captivate me the way it did.“In Russian, Frost was called Morozko, the demon of winter. But long ago, the people called him Karachun, the death-god. Under that name, he was king of black midwinter who came for bad children and froze them in the night.”I’m not even sure where to begin with this story, but I guess I will start by saying that this story is a love letter to stories everywhere. This book is a mash-up retelling of many Russian fairy tales, but with unique spins of them, which are woven together to tell such a beautiful tale that makes me breathless just thinking about how expertly it is crafted.Vasilisa and her family live on the edge of the Russian wilderness. Vasilisa’s father rules these lands, and her mother died giving birth to her, knowing that she was special. Vasilisa was raised by her mother’s nursemaid, who is constantly telling her fairy tales that most Russians fear, but Vasilisa loves.“You must remember the old stories. Make a stake of rowan-wood. Vasya, be wary. Be brave.”Vasilisa soon realizes that she is indeed special, and that she can see creatures that most people cannot. And, again, instead of feeling fear, she feels compassion and befriends and takes care of all the different creatures that dwell on her lands.And even though Vasilisa’s family accepts her, the rest of the community cannot see past how different she is. Vasilisa’s father tries many different things to get her to want the same things most girls in this time want (marriage, babies, performing “womanly” duties), while Vasilisa only wants to be free and see the world.Meanwhile, there is a frost-demon that does everything to ensure him and Vasilisa’s paths cross. And Vasilisa couldn’t resist the urge to go to him even if she tried. Then a beautiful story unfolds about a girl, a nightingale, and a bear, who are destined to have a story told.“Before the end, you will pluck snowdrops at midwinter, die by your own choosing, and weep for a nightingale.”[image]Like I️ said, it’s now an all time favorite for me! I️ truly loved this story that much. It deserves all the praise, all the hype, and all the love.This book had absolutely everything that I love in my fantasy:✘ Feminist as all hell✘ Magical forest✘ All the morally grey characters✘ Mythology and folklore✘ Little fae folk saving the day✘ Wintery settingAnd when I say that this is the perfect winter read, I mean it with everything that I am. Never have I ever read a better seasonal read. Please give this a try in the upcoming months. I promise you, you won’t regret itThis book was nothing short of magical. From the lyrical prose, to the atmospheric town and forest, to the characters that constantly had me crying, to the message that girls can be anything they want to be, no matter what society tries to confine them to. This book is a tangible piece of heaven and I am so thankful that I was able to read this before the end of 2017, because it truly is a shining star in 2017 publications. I cannot wait to start my ARC of The Girl in the Tower tonight!“I am only a story, Vasya.”

⭐ The author tried to take a simple fairy tale or tales and extend them into a novel, but the result is self- conscious and insipid. The story tries to be deep but ends up being confusing and ridiculous. The priest Konstantin calls upon Christian spirits, but is answered by a demon. The pagan Russian spirits appear and have power, while the equally mystical Christian deities don’t seem to exist, giving the message that the old gods must be honored by the superstitious peasants. Ok, fine, it’s a fairy tale, but she also mixes in the ambition as ND creepy lust of a priest, which are all too real. The characters are flat and unbelievable. But most unforgivably, the style is eye-rollingly annoying and pompous. (The magic necklace “lay between her breasts” at least 3 times, then it was “cold against her throat.” Talk about perky breasts!) It’s as if the author is looking for excuses to use certain phrases whether or not they make any sense. At least I can say that I learned a few Russian words.

⭐ It is not often that I am so enchanted by a book that I feel quite sad the book does not continue. I found this book fascinating. It put a spell on me.The location is Northern Russia, a village in the wilderness where the people struggle to survive in the frigid climate with very little sustenance.A young girl, Vasilisa, has second sight and sees, hears, and communicates with the nature spirits around her. To honor and appease them she gives them offerings.Her mother had died in childbirth, so Dunya, her nurse, became a substitute mother. Dunya enchanted her with stories of demons and spirits. Vasilisa was happy and content. Sadly, her father is overwhelmed with his duties to his land, servants, and children. He goes to Moscow and seeks a wife and mother for his children. His new wife, Anna, considers herself highly religious but is hardhearted and rule-oriented. She despises Vasilisa. Anna beats her and tries to tame her wildness. She forbids Vasilisa from communicating with any “imaginary” spirits. However, Anna herself is tormented by demons and spirits and tries to rid herself of them. She gravitates to the new priest, Konstantin, to save her. Konstantin scares the people into worshipping his version of God and his icons and considers Vasilisa a threat.Anna tries to marry Vasilisa off, and when that fails, attempts to send her to a convent.Without the tributes to the spirits, crops begin to fail and the people suffer more and more.Vasilisa, on her horse Solovey (Nightingale), her brother Aloysha, and their father Pyotr fight the one-eyed Bear devil with the help of the bear’s brother Death (Morozko) and save the people. The villagers do not understand what Vasilisa has done for them and consider her a witch. In order to protect her family, she leaves and joins Morozko.This book’s theme has relevance today. Taking care of the Earth, honoring Mother Nature, is vital to our survival.

⭐ I don’t know exactly what to write to do this justice. It was everything I was looking for in a book: a re-imagining of a fairytale without being predictable or trite. A magic-system that followed rules and still left room for the protagonist to be fallible and human. A look into a culture different from our own (ancient Russia, filled with dark woods, folklore, and earthy details). Hints of a romance that don’t detract from the plot or turn the heroine into an idiot.Honestly, the most delight I got was probably from reading about the Russian-style homestead that Vasilisa lives on – the ice blocks hewn for windows in the winter, the oven, the stable; although the book largely takes place in one small geographical area, it feels bigger than the sequel that I’m picking my way though now.A perfect winter read. As I hinted at, i’m not quite as captivated by the sequel as I was by this, but even if it does not pick up, and even if the third book is flat as a pancake…I’ll still return to this book next winter.

⭐ I read a lot of mixed reviews of this book. Some people loved the atmosphere. Others longed for more plot. Both sets of reviews seemed to agree that this book was entirely about atmosphere and setting, and not about character and plot. They are wrong.The setting here is strong. Powerful. Beautifully written and evokes strong emotions. I loved that it takes place in a time and country that I am mostly unfamiliar with. The atmosphere is thick with folklore and magic, and it reads like a fairy tale. It is also a little creepy, which I loved.But above all else, this story is a character story. Vasilisa is of course the primary character. We understand her. We love her. They way she is treated by her stepmother and the priest. Her relationship with her nurse. They shape her. Her relationship with the demons and how they raise her independent and strong. We understand her. So when it comes time for the climax of the story, we see it, we believe it, and we buy into it.But Vasilisa is not the only strong character that drives this book forward. Anna is believably awful. If Anna had grown up with Vasa instead of where she did, Anna might have been like Vasa. Instead she grew up to be the spiteful, awful person that she is. We both hate her and pity her. Konstantin is wonderfully awful. We hate him as well, with very little pity. Dunya is a beautiful substitute mother for Vasa, and we love her. Pyotr is what I imagine any father in this place and time would be. (If the above paragraph is vague, it’s because I’m trying to avoid spoilers.)All in all, I find this a character driven book with a strong setting. It is easily in my top 3 books I’ve read this year, and phooey on any naysayers who say nothing happens. Vasa happens, and it is wonderful.

⭐ YA 16+ – ADULT. FANTASY, FAIRY TALE/FOLK TALE (Russian)THE BEAR AND THE NIGHTINGALE is one of the best books I’ve read so far this year!! The story is a fairy tale of a fairy tale – for adults. Dark, as fairy tales wont to be. The protagonist Vasalisa lives with her family in the northern reaches of Russia. Her father is a “boyar”(landowning) of some minor nobility. Vasalisa is a wild child, born with magic in her blood. Folks in the north country have kept a balance between pagan beliefs of old;, which include house spirits and forest sprites as well as their Eastern Orthodox faith. As long as the balance is maintained the people live hard but productive lives. A young priest from Moscow arrives in this “backwater” (as he sees it) and is determined to rid the people of their pagan ways and tame the human-forest-sprite and speaker-to-animals – that is Vasalisa. The “natural order” is tipped, even as the priest himself becomes corrupted, victim to an evil demon that he has invited in, in the name of God. The story takes place during a time of feudal/patriarchal systems. Women have few options: marry and bear children or go to convent. Neither option is for Vasalisa…but now her world has been thrown into fear, hunger, death and despair. Can she save her family with her skills as yet undeveloped and tested?? At it’s core this is a story of Love and Family and Sacrifice.THE BIRD AND THE NIGHTINGALE would be a great read for students of literature in terms of motifs and archetypes:+ Man v Man, Man v Self+ Man v Nature+ Belief systems: Paganism v church+ Feminism: role of women in society, men v women, women as property….+ Outcasts: women as witches, unnatural abilities, 2d sight…..+ Demons: Winter King (death) v Medved (hungers for souls), brother’s at odds….as in Greek/Roman mythology the gods toy with mortals+ Vampires: undead+ and much more…..

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