I don’t know about you, but I’ve been dying to read Amal El-Mohtar’s solo debut since the moment I first heard about it. I’ve consumed every bit of short fiction of hers I could find, and reread This Is How You Lose the Time War enough that I know its ebbs and flows by heart. Her short fiction has always been gorgeous and masterfully crafted. The thought that we would soon be blessed with something longer has long been a wish of mine. And now, here we are with The River Has Roots.
I’ve been working as a book critic long enough now (more than a decade) that writing reviews usually comes pretty easily. I often start writing it in my head while I’m reading, so that by the time I finish the book I know what themes I want to talk about and how I plan to structure the review. There are rare occasions, however, where I turn the final page with no idea how to write the review. Sometimes it’s because the book is so bad or I disliked it so thoroughly that I can’t think of anything positive to say. More commonly, the book is mediocre at best and my struggle is finding a way to talk about liking something despite it not being done with any particular craft or uniqueness. And sometimes my writer’s block hits because the book is so goddamn good that I know whatever I write about it will never adequately convey how much you need to drop everything and read this book right now so I can have someone else to flail about it with. The River Has Roots is solidly in that third camp.
I stared at my computer screen for three days before I was finally able to work up the courage to start typing. No review can do a book like this justice. How do I feel about this new novella? I feel like running up to random people in the street and shaking them. I want to buy dozens of copies to throw at strangers like that Melissa McCartney gif. I want to clear an entire shelf on my bookcase just to put two dozen copies of this book on it. I want it on every SFF awards nomination list next year and I want El-Mohtar to earn so much she can swim in her royalties Scrooge McDuck style.
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The River Has Roots
The River Has Roots
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Four hundred words into this review and I still haven’t told you anything about the book other than how much I loved it. So here you go. Two sisters, Esther and Ysabel Hawthorn, are the youngest in a long line of willow tree farmers. The trees, fed by the River Liss, are used in all sorts of ways, but especially for spells and magic. In this version of old-timey England, magic is the study of grammar, and magicians are grammarians. Language in all its trickeries and complications forms the basis of all magic. At the edge of the small town of Thistleford, the River Liss passes through the Modal Lands, a sort of living liminal space, to Arcadia, or fairyland. “There is grammar that is ruled like a kingdom, and grammar that is ruled like a composition book, and there is always, always the wild, unruly grammar of ballads and riddles, and this is the grammar of Arcadia, which breaks the real into the true.”
Marking the borders between the Modal Lands and the regular world are two ancient willow trees, the Professors, to whom the girls sing to twice a day as part of some contract made so long ago no one remembers who or why. All their lives the girls are drawn to the Professors and the Modal Lands. For Esther, that pull comes in the form of Rin, a creature from fairy. Rin wants what Esther cannot offer, and Esther yearns for what Rin cannot give. Or so they think. For Ysabel, the Modal Lands are something to regard with a healthy but distant respect. Both girls dream of a life together but neither quite know the shape that future will take. Their callous, arrogant neighbor Mr. Pollard makes the decision for them after a heated confrontation. This act of violence is where the fairy tale feel really comes into play. And by “fairy tale” I don’t mean one of those cute modern versions where everyone lives happily ever after but the old kind, the kind where death and suffering are standard and being a good person doesn’t spare you tragedy.
The text is poetic and lyrical. It reads like a fairy tale that is both true and legendary at the same time. If I had to compare El-Mohtar to anyone, it would be Susanna Clarke; the novella gave me real The Wood at Midwinter vibes. Part of the story is told as if you’re there watching the sisters like an omniscient god and part of it has the feel of a grandparent or beloved auntie reading you a bedtime story. It’s short enough that you can get through it in one sitting, something you’ll probably do regardless because it’s impossible to put down.
The advanced reading copy I had contained some illustrations on the page—lush leaves and tall grass edging around the text—but was missing the interior artwork. I’ll definitely be buying the final copy so I can immerse myself in the complete work. I can’t wait to see what additional treats Amal El-Mohtar and cover artist and designer Spencer Fuller cooked up. The River Has Roots is going to be one of those books I delve into again and again.
The River Has Roots is available from Tordotcom Publishing.
