Book Review: Wintersong by S. Jae-Jones

Rating: ★★★★☆

Genre: Romance, Fantasy

Publisher: St. Martin’s Griffin

Publication Date: February 7, 2017

Historically and culturally relevant, Wintersong weaves a beautiful tale, rich with lore and darkness, about what it means to live, to love, and, eventually, to die.

Elisabeth, a.k.a. Liesl, has grown up on stories of the Goblin King, to the point where when she was young, she imagined she played with a boy who was meant to be him. Her grandmother had always warned her of the dangers, but her grandmother was growing both old and senile and often talked about ridiculous things. Pushing her grandmother’s warnings about the goblin men and their wares aside, Liesl accompanies her sister, Kathe, to the market. They’re separated only for a moment, but when Liesl finds her sister, Kathe has eaten a peach given to her by a goblin. Now, she is for the Goblin King.

When Kathe goes missing, Liesl knows who’s to blame. Remembering the games she used to play as a child in Goblin Grove, she challenges the Goblin King to a game. The stakes: her sister. If Liesl has any hope of freeing her sister, she has to journey to the Underground and outwit the Goblin King. But that’s the easy part. What she doesn’t know is that it isn’t Kathe the Goblin King wants but Liesl, because Liesl made him a promise when they were younger. A promise that she’s broken.

Will you marry me, Elisabeth? the little boy asked.

Oh, she replied, but you have not yet won my hand.

Then I will win, the little boy said. I will win until you surrender.

• This is not the Labyrinth, but better: darker, deeper, richer. I know some people may wonder, since the plot sounds similar, and they are, to some extent, as they’re both based on the lore of Der Erlkönig. So that’s to be expected. They also involve the Goblin King taking the protagonist’s sibling. As far as I can tell, that’s where the similarities end. Now, don’t get me wrong, I loved Labyrinth. Even though I was young when I first watched it, the little fangirl in me awoke and would have gladly gone off with David Bowie as Jareth (and how crazy was Sarah that she wouldn’t? I mean, come on.) Wintersong is not that. It’s deeper and darker. The Goblin King himself has endless layers and a backstory, and falling in love with him isn’t easy or clean or nice. The Underground isn’t pleasant or welcoming, and there’s no heartwarming, endearing creatures. The goblins and changelings and even the Lorelei are all ruthless and likely to turn at a moment’s notice.

 

• The historical and cultural aspects of this are accurate and beautiful. Now, I’m a big fan of reading stories based on lore, but it sort of irks me when the lore is taken so far out of context that it’s no longer recognizable. This book is set in Bavaria, and though no time was given, Vivaldi was mentioned as not being yet popular but still known, so I would assume early 18th century, maybe. There are little details about the setting that really bring it to life, like the lapses of German and mention of traditional German food and cultural reminders of the time period. Speaking of which …

 

• This was a pretty lousy time to be a woman, and it shows. Being firmly of the 21st century, it’s easy to forget how culture affects protagonists, but of course it would. Why wouldn’t it? There’s an undercurrent of that in this book, not pushed where it becomes overbearing but a subtle reminder of exactly why Liesl is the way she is. Despite being a gifted composer, she’s pushed aside, because what use does a woman have for such things? However, she’s not pretty enough, like her sister and mother, to easily win herself a husband. At 19, her future as a spinster is already assured. There are other little moments that do a wonderful job of conjuring up the time period, like the scandalous idea that Liesl was born only five months after her parents wed or the reminder that she should remember her place and not argue with men, even if she’s right, because how could she possibly know any better, being a woman? All these small things added up to what was an enriching picture of the historical setting.

 

• The prose is every bit as lyrical and magical as the story itself. It conjures up dreams and fairy tales (the dark sort, obviously) and lore so well, in a surreal way at times. The flow was lovely, and it was such a pleasure to read.

 

• There’s an underlying theme of music, and I LOVE it. Now, I’m not a big music buff. Yeah, I like listening to it, but I can’t really tell you anything about it other than there’s notes which I can’t hit or read to save my life (and thankfully, I don’t have to). Still, Jae-Jones did a good job of making me actually care about the music in this, and I did. The story itself is divided into parts, as a musical composition might be. Liesl is a skilled composer, and her brother and father are talented violinists, as is the Goblin King. More than that, though, music is the way people communicate. It solidifies the relationships between them. They live and breathe music, and it flows out of the words here, almost as if the book itself sings. The descriptions were beautiful, and it really tied everything together.

 

• I’m pretty certain the fangirl in me died from an overdose of fangirling. Is that even a thing? The Goblin King is aloof and romantic and witty and soooo swoonworthy. Is it getting hot in here? *fans self* Oh, sure, he’s also childish and pouty and wicked at times, which is just icing on the cake as far as I’m concerned. There are some pretty steamy scenes—tastefully written and woven with music.

• I’m not sure what happened to Elisabeth toward the middle of the book, but she was unbearable. I loved her character to start with. She was caring and strong, concerned about her family and willing to sacrifice everything for them, but also aware of her own talents and determined not to let them wither under her father’s disapproval. She was strong and resourceful and able to go toe-to-toe with the Goblin King. Somewhere towards the middle, though, this changed. I’m not sure if it was supposed to be a side effect of being in the Underground, but it didn’t seem so. She became spiteful, petulant, had tantrums. Elisabeth was offered everything she said she wanted from the beginning of the book, but suddenly, she didn’t want it. Which could have been a powerful revelation scene, where she realized the things she had taken for granted were actually the most important parts of her life after all. However, that wasn’t the case. Instead, she just came off whiny and angsty, but only for this one part. She was back to old Elisabeth after that. So I’m not sure what happened, other than me getting whiplash.

 

• What the heck are the old laws, and why do I care? I mean, I know I should, and apparently, they have to be followed OR ELSE. But they’re often mentioned in passing, like they’re things we should know, and I honestly have no idea. It seems like they’re this book’s version of “just because.” Things happen because the old laws. I want to know what happens if they’re broken. Total protonic reversal, maybe?

This book was beautiful. It has all the romantic overtones I could ever have wanted, matched perfectly with a strong protagonist (for the most part) and some dark lore and mystery. Oh, and the Goblin King. Have I mentioned him? *resists the urge to swoon* This was a solid read. The fangirl inside me is flailing and satisfied, but still looking forward to the sequel, Shadowsong. I picked it up because of the similarities to Labyrinth, and I was not disappointed. It was better than Labyrinth by a lot (never mind being a different media).

Would you marry the Goblin King (or Queen, I suppose) if he offered his hand? Even if it meant your death? (I mean, really, we all die anyway, right, and HAVE YOU NOTICED HIS SEXINESS?)