Slewfoot: A Tale of Bewitchery by Brom
“The night called to her and she answered, howling to the moon as she bounded down that dark and lonely road.”
I picked up this book based entirely off of the gorgeous cover art (and a little bit because I quite liked the feel of the paper that the publishers had chosen), and I emerged on the other side of the reading experience immensely satisfied with my choice. Brom’s writing, like his paintings illustrating the main characters, conjure an environment that is lush and dangerous, but a delight to experience as a reader nonetheless. As the protagonist, Abitha is a fully realised character, and so is Slewfoot, as he wakes up and remembers who he is. I do confess to hearing “wouldst thou like to live deliciously” echoing in my head at several points while reading, though, so perhaps I’m due for a rewatch of The VVitch this coming spooky season.
I quite enjoyed the story that Bron is telling here, and a particular standout for me are the sequences where Slewfoot wakes up and forays into the woods, re-examining his surroundings and remembering his role in these communities. The depictions of the darkness and unknowability of the deep forest, as well as the spirits that inhabit it, spoke to my love of rural eldritch horror. The town and townfsfolk though, oof. The idea of religion and the roles that it occupies within communities and families as politics and as a binding agent — whether for good or ill — is still such a tender spot in my soul. The character of Wallace so closely echoed certain church elders I had in my past life that it elicited a liiiiiittle bit of a wince whenever he would show up on the page. Overall, Slewfoot was enjoyable for me, if admittedly mildly harrowing, as a woman who was raised for a little over a decade in a repressive, religious environment.
All this to say, by the time Abitha came to the choices she made at the climax of the tale, I was screaming right there with her.
Dani Magsumbol 