We usually think of the witch as a supernatural figure. Whether she’s a lovable comic figure like the Sanderson Sisters, or a malevolent force like the Blair Witch, the witch is all too often defined by spells, incantations, and powers. But what about the real women who have borne the label “witch,” hurled at them as a slur? What about all the outcasts, mystics, and survivors who have carved out lives for themselves at the edges of a hostile society?
Kathryn Bromwich explores the psyche of one such woman in her debut novel, At the Edge of the Woods. Laura has escaped an abusive marriage, fleeing to a remote village in the Italian Alps. There, she moves into a cabin between the village and the forest carpeting the surrounding mountains. Each morning, she hikes through the woods; in the afternoons, she goes into the village to buy provisions and work odd jobs. She prefers solitude, but when she has to interact with other people, she’s careful to present a respectable demeanor.
However, as Laura explores the wilderness with all its beauty and danger, its hold on her grows stronger and stronger. Soon, the villagers begin to turn on her, calling her strega, or witch.
At the Edge of the Woods isn’t a perfect debut. The story is slow to start, and the prose is often unnecessarily dense. However, as the threats to Laura start to close in around the edges of her little world, the book spirals into an exhilarating and hallucinogenic psychic journey. Human beings have failed Laura, but the forest is an entity that welcomes her.
And Laura’s right to prefer the woods over other people. In a flashback to her marriage, we see that every aspect of her life is an intricate facade put up to placate her husband: her makeup, her clothing, her posture, her words. Every last detail of her life is carefully calibrated to stave off violence. In the village, we see what happens when Laura takes a risk and drops the act: the violence comes.
However, that violence has a strangely cathartic feel to it, because we know that burying her true self under a shield of respectability is its own kind of death. Instead, by answering the call of the wilderness, Laura learns where her true power lies.
This novel is an intriguing look at the forces—natural, social, and psychological—that create the figure of the witch. It’s also an allegory that will resonate with any reader who’s ever found themselves in Laura’s double bind, forced to choose between safety and authenticity. In this beautiful, brutal little novel, those readers might find a path forward, even though it’s a dangerous one to tread.
(featured image: Two Dollar Radio)
