This may be the hardest review I’ve ever had to write because there are just so many things trying to escape my mind at one time. My love of Wintersong by S. Jae-Jones has been broadcasted on my Twitter and I even made a super delicious cocktail for it. The prose is beautiful, lyrical, and it seems to surrounded you. This is definitely a book that drags you into it. You won’t be able to stop reading it until your eyes start to cross and you find yourself reading the same sentence over and over.
However, I will issue a vague warning on how everything ends. There is a sequel, which comes out in 2018 (*sobbing*), so I hope you’re picking up what I’m putting down.
Before we can get into the super good stuff, here’s the basics. Wintersong takes places in historically set Bavaria (19th century, I believe). Elisabeth, or Liesl, is the oldest of three children and an innkeeper’s daughter. Her sister is the beautiful one, getting married to Liesl’s crush. Her brother is the talented one, training to becoming a master violinist. Elisabeth has a gift as well, the gift of composition, but because she’s a girl, her father scolds her for spending time on her musical creations instead of being responsible and helping with the care and running of their inn.
Elisabeth’s grandmother is rather superstitious and warns the girls about the Goblin King, which causes vague, childhood memories to surface in Elisabeth’s mind. As the veil between the Underground and the human world reaches its thinnest, Elisabeth’s sister is kidnapped by the Goblin King to be his bride. Elisabeth is tasked with trying to save her, but it’s a lose/lose game to be quite honest. Because hello…she’s dealing with the Goblin King.
I’m sure you’re picking up Labyrinth parallels.
But if the possibility of some David Bowie fantasies doesn’t tempt you, Wintersong also has elements of:
- The Phantom of the Opera
- The Little Mermaid
- Hades & Persephone
- Beauty and the Beast
I feel a little bit like a very shouty man in an informercials. WE’VE GOT BROODING. MORE SEXUAL TENSION THAT YOU CAN SHAKE A STICK AT. ORDER TODAY AND WE’LL THROW IN A BONUS UGLY CRY FOR JUST THE COST OF EXTRA SHIPPING AND HANDLING.
While romance plays a large part of Elisabeth and the Goblin King’s relationship, Wintersong is more about Elisabeth coming into her own. When she enters the Underground, she’s unsure of herself and her talents. She’s so used to giving up her dreams for the sake of her siblings being able to pursue theirs that being selfish is foreign to her. But as she learns to embrace her musical gifts, her blunt honesty, and her femininity, there’s great satisfaction in seeing the Goblin King’s growing fear of this bold, blossoming woman. While I, of course, want a man to adore me, there’s a part of me that also wants to be found intimidating.
The Goblin King is more than just the mischievous anti-hero that we’ve come to associate with David Bowie, tight pants, and that…codpiece. We come to learn that the Goblin King is just as trapped in the Underground as Elisabeth is, and it’s heartbreaking seeing him war with his exhaustion at playing this role. He is no longer a man. He’s a myth. The Goblin King’s true identity, who he was before he was king, remains a secret, but we get little glimpses of who he used to be. Elisabeth desperately wants to know the man, who can play the violin and often takes solace in the Underground’s chapel.
There were also times when I started humming “Tale As Old As Time” in my head.
He cleared his throat. “Are you—are you all right, my queen?”
So distant. So formal. He always called me my dear, said in that sarcastic tone of his, or else it was Elisabeth, always Elisabeth. He was the only one who called me that, and I wanted to be Elisabeth for him again.
“I am fine, thank you, mein Herr.” I matched his distance with my own. The chasm between us grew to twice its size. I ached to bridge it, but did not know how.
Just a little change
Small to say the least
Both a little scared
Neither one prepared…
Jae-Jones’ writing is so descriptive and entrancing. The goblins and the Underground are detailed with this mix of dark romanticism, a twisted glamour where nothing is as it seems. That said, because of the detail, the reading was dense at times. It’s like eating a rich meal. You love every bite, but you know you’re going to get sick if you gorge yourself on it. You have to slow down and savor.
But I was afraid. I had danced and feasted at the Goblin Ball, but this was something entirely different: wild, untamed, and feral. The Goblin Ball, hosted by the Goblin King, had had a veneer of civilized behavior overlaying its orgiastic abandonment, but there were no such niceties now. This was not hedonistic indulgence; this was savagery. I could smell blood—freshly spilled. It smelled of copper and iron and flesh. Twining, writhing shapes copulated in the corners of my vision, and I thought of the little objet d’art in my barrow room that depicted the nymph and the satyr. Music wailed on pipes and horns and catgut lutes—rude, rustic, without refinement. The goblin wine took the edges off my fear, but the chill of it still ran through my veins.
Music also plays a large part in the story in Elisabeth’s identity, in the dysfunction it causes between her and her family, in the growing attraction between Elisabeth and the Goblin King. But I am not musically inclined. I took band for one year in 6th grade, where I begrudgingly played the flute after being denied my choice of playing the alto sax. That’s the extent of my musical knowledge, so the jargon used to describe various elements of musical composition went right over my head.
As I mentioned before, there’s a sequel planned, and thank god, because the ending made me cry. Like shoulder-shaking, full on snot bubbles, crying. The ending is bittersweet, but it’s not the ending I was hoping for and there are still a lot of questions left unanswered. The continuation of Elisabeth and the Goblin King’s story (even if I do have to wait a year) was the only thing keeping me from going into a full blown book hangover.
For those who love Labyrinth or any of the elements I mentioned above, please get this book. It’s whimsical, spellbinding, and full of things that will make fairy tale lovers squee. This is Jae-Jones’ debut novel and because of Wintersong, you can guarantee that I’ll be following her writing closely, whether it’s up and down the Escher staircase or knee-deep into the bog of eternal stench.