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A review by oneillchris
Summerwode by J. Tullos Hennig
5.0
Reimagining the Robin Hood legends, J. Tullos Hennig sets the action in twelfth century Shire Wode (Sherwood Forest) when ancient druid ways are being scoured from the countryside by the Christianizing Norman occupation. It’s the era of England’s King Richard the Lionheart, his brother John who rules while Richard is on Crusade in the Holy Land and imprisoned in Austria, and Richard’s mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine. The population is divided between the Norman ruling class and Saxon commoners. And the Earth powers are stirring … historical fantasy at its absolute best!
Hennig’s The Wode series begins with Greenwode (2013), develops through Shirewode (2013) and Winterwode (2015), and arrives in the fourth book titled Summerwode (2017), the focus of this review. Let’s catch up a little on the other three books in order to set the stage for comments.
The heroes first meet (Greenwode) when twelve-year-old Gamelyn, the third son of Sir Ian Boundys, becomes lost while riding in the forest and is attacked by a buck deer in rut. Gamelyn falls from his horse, is hoisted on the buck’s horns, and knocked silly. On an errand to Loxley village, Robyn, eleven-year-old son of the lord’s forester for Shire Wode, finds him unconscious on the ground.
Hennig carefully draws out the scene.
It’s no accident that Gamelyn is challenged and wounded by a “buck” in the forest, “spit on the horns, thrown aside as if he is parchment ripped from a court ledger, set ablaze in a brazier… his head is burning from the fire, ground beneath the galloping hoofs... He’s going to die. He can feel the stag’s breath heating and tugging his cape and he cannot even lift so much as his fingers to do anything about it.”
All this is foreshadow as well as action and shows Hennig as a master of story, wherein every detail counts. Back to the forest.
“Bloody damn.” Robyn guesses the “poncy lad” laid out on the forest floor is addled, and he notices that the riding cape is finely crafted while underneath is a worn out dark-blue tunic. Robyn wonders what kind of lad “wore such rich clothes until they wear out?” Indeed.
Dazed from his fall, Gamelyn’s first waking glimpse of Robyn is of a “wolf. Black pelt gleaming, dark eyes glittering with fire and shadows. Lean and dusty, the outlier moves toward him with another growl, soft threat. Hungry.” Later in the first book, that phrase will change seamlessly from “lean and dusty” to “lean and lusty.”
And thus begins the unlikely friendship of Robyn of the Shirewode and Gamelyn of Blythe Castle. The main characters—Gamelyn, Robyn and his 15-year-old sister, Marion—are fully developed as believable, likeable personalities with strengths and faults—though Marion’s “faults” are perhaps a bit lacking. She learns herbal medicine at her mother’s side, but after the brutal death of both parents, experiences a major memory lapse (in Shirewode) that stands out as a distinguishing if unplanned phase of her apprenticeship. I shouldn’t disclose more of the story, but reading between the lines, her amnesia stands metaphorically for the ongoing effort by women to reclaim knowledge that has been erased and nearly forgotten.
The Earth powers—the Stag Lord and The Lady—act as commentators and advisors, sometimes taunting the three heroes. Usually intruding into their thoughts, they provide both humor and an ominous foreboding presence.
Each book has its own plot within the series, and the heroes deal with local authorities and religious zealots in Shirewode, the Queen Mother and plots against King Richard in Winterwode, and in the fourth book, King Richard and Wymarec, the most powerful Templar in England. Gamelyn, Robyn, and Marion are now fully empowered for their roles—Summerlord, Winter King, and Maiden of the Spring. The big question is: will Gamelyn claim the crown of the Summerlord and ...
Well, best you read it for yourself.
Still, I want to comment on one theme in the series—the dilemma of the modern male. Robyn is apprentice to an Ur-druid who lives in a cave under the holy hill. The druid molds his character and consecrates him to Earth powers while Robyn lives in a home that supports him. As a young man he bears the weight of the Stag Lord’s horns. Yet the old ways are on the brink of disappearing, and his future is tied to the future of the Shire. He must act and knows with whom.
On the other hand, Gamelyn is the son of a Norman lord, and what is his apprenticehsip? As the third son, he won’t inherit. He wants to be a scholar, suggesting a quiet life inside the church. But by accident, he gets lost in the woods and is befriended by two local youth imbued with forest powers, powers that stir his soul despite the socialization of church and class privilege. Worse. His first and only true love blossoms with another young man, a disqualifying disgrace within the Norman lord’s hillfort. He is driven away and forced to join the Knights Templar for violation of the patriarchal male code, a punishment that splits him into two characters: Gamelyn, the gentle pre-pubescent boy Robyn and Marion grew to love (Greenwode) becomes Guy de Gisbourne, Falconier to a Templar Commander and a master of martial mayhem (Shirewode). His family believes he died in the Holy Land on Crusade. And in a sense, Gamelyn is dead.
Hennig’s is a particularly interesting take on the foreboding task of survival for the modern young male who accidentally discovers a world in the forest outside the boundaries of his upbringing, a world where Earth remains recognizable as the primary power. Her story portrays Guy de Gisbourne (a hyper-masculine Gamelyn in the role of a Templar hitman) as a rigidly disciplined young man who must ceaselessly tamp down the Earth-power welling inside. Thus, the reader encounters a split character—Gamelyn/Guy—who blindly struggles for his own soul and the right to forget … or fully be the person he truly is. The apparent irreconcilable differences between Gamelyn (who must grown up) and Guy (who must reclaim boyhood inspiration) require constant pressure against one temperament so the other temperament has room to breathe. Gamelyn/Guy must choose.
For me, Gamelyn/Guy’s struggle is the central conflict that drives the story forward—Oak and Holly or Cross and Sword—for it appears that it cannot be both.
And a major achievement of the author is Marion—the third element—who is not merely a pretty face standing in the corner watching the boy’s battle. Her energy, her birthing and healing powers as well as her aim with bow and arrow are essential for the survival of the old ways against the encroaching outsider beliefs that would destroy the old ways. Can a threesome truly work in harmony? Will the old ways survive? The genius of the story is how the weaving of Robyn’s soul with Gamelyn’s and Gamelyn’s with Marion’s is so convincing. And, of course, we cheer for them.
While I anticipate a satisfying conclusion to the series, the denouement of Summerwode surprised me. There is much to ponder in what Hennig has wrought and much to admire. And we are left wondering to where will our three heroes travel next. It’s surely worth the wait.
Highly recommended.
Hennig’s The Wode series begins with Greenwode (2013), develops through Shirewode (2013) and Winterwode (2015), and arrives in the fourth book titled Summerwode (2017), the focus of this review. Let’s catch up a little on the other three books in order to set the stage for comments.
The heroes first meet (Greenwode) when twelve-year-old Gamelyn, the third son of Sir Ian Boundys, becomes lost while riding in the forest and is attacked by a buck deer in rut. Gamelyn falls from his horse, is hoisted on the buck’s horns, and knocked silly. On an errand to Loxley village, Robyn, eleven-year-old son of the lord’s forester for Shire Wode, finds him unconscious on the ground.
Hennig carefully draws out the scene.
It’s no accident that Gamelyn is challenged and wounded by a “buck” in the forest, “spit on the horns, thrown aside as if he is parchment ripped from a court ledger, set ablaze in a brazier… his head is burning from the fire, ground beneath the galloping hoofs... He’s going to die. He can feel the stag’s breath heating and tugging his cape and he cannot even lift so much as his fingers to do anything about it.”
All this is foreshadow as well as action and shows Hennig as a master of story, wherein every detail counts. Back to the forest.
“Bloody damn.” Robyn guesses the “poncy lad” laid out on the forest floor is addled, and he notices that the riding cape is finely crafted while underneath is a worn out dark-blue tunic. Robyn wonders what kind of lad “wore such rich clothes until they wear out?” Indeed.
Dazed from his fall, Gamelyn’s first waking glimpse of Robyn is of a “wolf. Black pelt gleaming, dark eyes glittering with fire and shadows. Lean and dusty, the outlier moves toward him with another growl, soft threat. Hungry.” Later in the first book, that phrase will change seamlessly from “lean and dusty” to “lean and lusty.”
And thus begins the unlikely friendship of Robyn of the Shirewode and Gamelyn of Blythe Castle. The main characters—Gamelyn, Robyn and his 15-year-old sister, Marion—are fully developed as believable, likeable personalities with strengths and faults—though Marion’s “faults” are perhaps a bit lacking. She learns herbal medicine at her mother’s side, but after the brutal death of both parents, experiences a major memory lapse (in Shirewode) that stands out as a distinguishing if unplanned phase of her apprenticeship. I shouldn’t disclose more of the story, but reading between the lines, her amnesia stands metaphorically for the ongoing effort by women to reclaim knowledge that has been erased and nearly forgotten.
The Earth powers—the Stag Lord and The Lady—act as commentators and advisors, sometimes taunting the three heroes. Usually intruding into their thoughts, they provide both humor and an ominous foreboding presence.
Each book has its own plot within the series, and the heroes deal with local authorities and religious zealots in Shirewode, the Queen Mother and plots against King Richard in Winterwode, and in the fourth book, King Richard and Wymarec, the most powerful Templar in England. Gamelyn, Robyn, and Marion are now fully empowered for their roles—Summerlord, Winter King, and Maiden of the Spring. The big question is: will Gamelyn claim the crown of the Summerlord and ...
Well, best you read it for yourself.
Still, I want to comment on one theme in the series—the dilemma of the modern male. Robyn is apprentice to an Ur-druid who lives in a cave under the holy hill. The druid molds his character and consecrates him to Earth powers while Robyn lives in a home that supports him. As a young man he bears the weight of the Stag Lord’s horns. Yet the old ways are on the brink of disappearing, and his future is tied to the future of the Shire. He must act and knows with whom.
On the other hand, Gamelyn is the son of a Norman lord, and what is his apprenticehsip? As the third son, he won’t inherit. He wants to be a scholar, suggesting a quiet life inside the church. But by accident, he gets lost in the woods and is befriended by two local youth imbued with forest powers, powers that stir his soul despite the socialization of church and class privilege. Worse. His first and only true love blossoms with another young man, a disqualifying disgrace within the Norman lord’s hillfort. He is driven away and forced to join the Knights Templar for violation of the patriarchal male code, a punishment that splits him into two characters: Gamelyn, the gentle pre-pubescent boy Robyn and Marion grew to love (Greenwode) becomes Guy de Gisbourne, Falconier to a Templar Commander and a master of martial mayhem (Shirewode). His family believes he died in the Holy Land on Crusade. And in a sense, Gamelyn is dead.
Hennig’s is a particularly interesting take on the foreboding task of survival for the modern young male who accidentally discovers a world in the forest outside the boundaries of his upbringing, a world where Earth remains recognizable as the primary power. Her story portrays Guy de Gisbourne (a hyper-masculine Gamelyn in the role of a Templar hitman) as a rigidly disciplined young man who must ceaselessly tamp down the Earth-power welling inside. Thus, the reader encounters a split character—Gamelyn/Guy—who blindly struggles for his own soul and the right to forget … or fully be the person he truly is. The apparent irreconcilable differences between Gamelyn (who must grown up) and Guy (who must reclaim boyhood inspiration) require constant pressure against one temperament so the other temperament has room to breathe. Gamelyn/Guy must choose.
For me, Gamelyn/Guy’s struggle is the central conflict that drives the story forward—Oak and Holly or Cross and Sword—for it appears that it cannot be both.
And a major achievement of the author is Marion—the third element—who is not merely a pretty face standing in the corner watching the boy’s battle. Her energy, her birthing and healing powers as well as her aim with bow and arrow are essential for the survival of the old ways against the encroaching outsider beliefs that would destroy the old ways. Can a threesome truly work in harmony? Will the old ways survive? The genius of the story is how the weaving of Robyn’s soul with Gamelyn’s and Gamelyn’s with Marion’s is so convincing. And, of course, we cheer for them.
While I anticipate a satisfying conclusion to the series, the denouement of Summerwode surprised me. There is much to ponder in what Hennig has wrought and much to admire. And we are left wondering to where will our three heroes travel next. It’s surely worth the wait.
Highly recommended.