Reviews tagging 'Cultural appropriation'

Under Wildwood by Colin Meloy

1 review

kell_xavi's review

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adventurous medium-paced

3.5

I liked this book, but had a few issues with it and wasn’t as entertained as I was with the first book (a strong portal fantasy beginning, one of my favourites!). It’s important to note that, while Wildwood wraps up at the end and can be read as standalone, this book is both a continuation and the start of a new story, one that is in its middle when the book ends. 

Much like book one, the novel follows the young characters together and apart, criss-crossing various setting within the Wood and outside it. Under Wildwood introduces Elsie and Rachel, Curtis’ sisters. Meloy jumps between the children, extending the world-building into the Industrial Wastes on the outside edge of the Impassable Wilderness, and, as the title suggests, into an intricately built brick bunker underneath the Wood. 

The strongest sections of this book are those that pause the narrative for scenes of wholesome joy. Curtis and Prue running a bandit obstacle course alongside other children, the North Wood feast and party, the opening scene of bandit training, and the cabin in the periphery are all small celebrations of nature and companionship. These moment evidence why Meloy writes I think—he’s stated that he is somewhat like Curtis, and Carson Ellis (his partner) is more like Prue, and I could see the love of childhood in convictions and fears, spirituality and care, adventure and growing maturity—all in a beautiful, friendly, safe, free setting, the kind of place many of us love to live in at any age (North Wood for me). 

The main story has Prue whisked into Wildwood by the Bandits and Avians, following news from the Mystics that there’s an assassin after her. Once again, her parents are inattentive and passive in their kindness, which frustrates me. Curtis has been training with the Bandits and feels at home under Brenden’s wing, but his parents are deeply worried and, in an equally ineffective parenting choice, deposit Elsie and Rachel at a suspicious orphanage while they search for their missing son. 

A few twists later, the sisters are working in a dangerous factory; Curtis, Prue, and Septimus the rat are in the depths of an bunker among an entire underground civilization; and a quest has begun to find and make a special cog before someone more sinister does so first. 

My main qualm with this book is time spent with Joffrey Unthank (orphanage and machine parts factory owner) and his compatriots. I’m of the opinion that we don’t always need to spend time with the thoughts and motivations of bad people, because they aren’t the characters whom the reader is mirroring, they are annoying to spend time with, their perspectives require a tonal shift (here, expressing an adult voice for a children’s book); and, in this case, parts of what the third-person POV focalized on Unthank tells us could be explored productively through the children instead. The child labour factory and orphanage tap into tropes in a way I didn’t mind—Meloy has made it just unnerving enough—but combined with circus, it leant too far into overdone. 

Where Wildwood is most closely compared to the Narnia series, Under Wildwood takes inspiration mainly from The Series of Unfortunate Events. This is definitely its own novel, anchored to the Wood and the original aspects found there, but some parts were too familiar to be interesting. 

There are also some weird choices around race and culture. Meloy makes an attempt at diversity but only identifies skin tone when it’s not white, or physical features when the character is disabled. He describes hair of white characters, and will now and then mention the fur or clothes of animal characters, but all in all, the POC characters are most obvious. A few times, micro aggressions are made towards disabled and POC characters, largely as evidence that the people making them are evil. Using marginalized identity as a plot point like that assumes a majority audience and sidelines the loved realities of those identities, so it grated on me. The kitsune is a notable choice as well, as it originates in Japanese mythology and is (I think) the only example of mythology in the text beyond the general anthropomorphized animal society and the clockwork boy. 

I loved the moles, though Prue and Curtis seem to agree with their story a little too quickly with little evidence. I loved the cabin family and the bear. I hope these characters come back and come together, though I’m not sure they all will given the separateness of their settings. I am looking forward to the last book! 

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