Book Review: The Witch's Heart
In late February 2021, I decided to start a SFF book club for myself and a few friends, mostly so I could share my love of SFF books with other people. But also, in part, because SFF tends to get overlooked as subject material for book clubs. There is a tendency to assume that because something is “merely” genre fiction, it is not capable of providing the same depth and meaning that a more “literary” style of fiction can provide.
This is, of course, utter bullshit, and you need look no farther than the first book my club read together, The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec.
The giant Angrboda has survived burning and death. Now, she recovers from her trauma by loving the shapechanger Loki and bearing three children — children who are bound to a terrible fate, one that Angrboda is forced to discover. And when her life is ripped apart once again, by forces she cannot control, how will Angrboda find a way to save the ones she loves?
If you are familiar with Norse myth, you will likely go into this novel knowing who Angrboda is - a giant, a witch, a wife of Loki, mother of the goddess Hel and mother of the great wolf Fenrir and the great serpent Jormungandr, both of whom have vital roles to play in Ragnarok, the ending of the world. (So, you know…the book’s plot won’t exactly be a surprise). And yet, despite all that, Angrboda herself is something of a mystery. Who was she? What were her days like? The mythological canon is silent.
This book, then, gives Angrboda her own voice to tell that story, to share her heartbreak, her determination, her fire and love. It starts in an unusual place, almost after the drama, with Angrboda having survived a burning and going into hiding, and so much of the book focuses on how she recovers from that trauma, how she tries to distance herself from her abuser, who is a powerful god. But here, we do get to see who she is: a powerful woman, a witch, a mother, a lover. She is intuitive, protective, determined and, above all, strong and unbroken.
It’s a quiet, interior novel, more of a character piece than a flashy adventure with lots of plot, but that works here: all the focus remains on Angrboda, her trauma, her recovery, and her relationships. There is her fraught and tense romance with Loki; her tragic relationships of love and support for her children; her friendship and burgeoning romance with the huntress Skadi; her afar animosity with Odin, even.
In fact, the book is likely to make you hate Loki for the way he treats Angrboda and her children. He is not Aesir but tries so desperately to fit in, wants to desperately to be loved, that he doesn’t seem to care who he hurts around him in the process. The middle of the book made me want to, in Skadi’s ever-present words, cut his balls off in anger. I didn’t believe Angrboda could or should ever forgive him, and yet…well. Spoilers.
Likewise, Angrboda’s relationship with her eldest daughter is also fraught. Hel blames Angrboda for what happens to herself and her brothers, even though there was literally nothing Angrboda could have done, even though it was actually Loki’s fault. But Hel, like her mother, loves Loki too much, and it drives a wedge between them — a wedge Angrboda is determined to overcome, and will stake her own life on.
And there’s that delicious slow-burn romance with Skadi too, the one reliable presence in Angrboda’s life, the person who always cares about and for her. They share too little time together, and yet, it has to be enough for both of them.
I mentioned earlier that this was the first book I read with my book club, and I am incredibly thankful for their insights and discussion. In particular, the parents in the group spoke up about how deeply the themes of parenthood and what it means to have a child are woven throughout the book. We also discussed extensively the themes of monsterhood and otherness, how it recurs time and again that most of the main cast are othered in some fashion, how that label is cast upon them, and how that label could be interpreted through different lenses (such as children with nonverbal autism). There is so much meat for discussion here; the book is rife with thoughtful treatments of different themes, and these are only a few.
And the ending - oh the ending. How heartbreakingly (or heartmendingly, perhaps) perfect. It circles back around to the beginning of the story, and it gives all the meaning in the world to the book’s title. I do believe most of us book clubbers got weepy at the end.
I suspect there is a little sub-genre forming around books like this one and Circe, which reaches back into myth for women and witches and other outsiders and gives them the attention they deserve but never received. The Witch’s Heart was excellent, a beautiful example of how those stories can be expanded. And I’d love to see similar stories from pantheons outside the Greek and Norse, told by authors of color. I’d gladly read each and every one.
Grade: 4.5/5 stars
Memorable Quote:
““Enough,” said Angrboda. Mother of monsters. His words were unforgivable. But hearing this sentiment echoed by a stranger - by a goddess - had caused something within her to come undone. Her fingers twitched at her sides as she stared the woman down and channeled every ounce of fury in her heart.
You called my children monsters...
And I’ll make you swallow those words.”
