If you are still basking in the warm glow of November 4th, then The Somewhat Wicked Witch of Brigandale By C. M. Waggoner is just the read you need to combine your love of fantasy with your newsfeed right now. It might alternately be titled “How to be a self-sufficient witch and casually invent democracy.” I am so glad that I forgot to read this when it came out in March so that it’s hitting my radar now.
Gretsella lived once upon a time in the dark forest of Brigandale, where she was rudely disturbed by a screaming infant who grows to become her incredibly likeable and handsome, if somewhat dim son, Bradley. When forest animals start prophesying about the reign of King Bradley, he sets off for the Capital. Shortly thereafter Gretsella follows him to clean up the mess made by the rich and powerful when a simpleton is in charge.
I was hooked into this story immediately by the craftsman of C. M. Waggoner who I will now be stalking, in the literary sense of course, for all time.
The milk was there because the milkman always came on Wednesdays. Gretsella paid him to do so. She didn’t know when or why a babyman had come as well, though it seemed clear that when the babyman cameth, he had cometh for her.
While Bradley is the impetus for much of the action in this story. It is Gretsella that controls both the gaze and the narrative of everything that transpires between Brigandale and the palace. She is fiercely independent and cranky, but also loveable and civic minded. She wants to be left alone, as long as stupid people aren’t doing stupid things, because then she will clean up the mess they made, but please leave her alone. The gathering of her “coven” is very much like the gathering of witches in the first episode of Agatha All Along, they like being alone, but okay we’ll work together if we have to. Albeit with much nicer witches than Agatha Harkness.
We are introduced to Waggoner’s delightful origin story of witches that “just as caterpillars turn into butterflies, lonely little girls sometimes turn into witches.” From this kernel of inspiration we are given an extra storyline that meanders alongside Bradley’s, the story of a young girl called Carrots. While the two stories do eventually merge, it is the early tale of Carrots that tugs at the heart. To be clear, it is not just little girls that become witches, they just experience it more often than forty-five year old sergeant majors.
This is a quick read, a fun read, and is full of one liners that are shockingly prescient for the times we live in. You leave the story physically feeling like Gretsella has turned to face you from the pages, and winked at you. A book that recognizes the benefit of fairy tales and sensible shoes.
If you’re the sort of person who reads, you’ll be aware that fairy tales ought to be taken seriously in their essence, if not in their particularity.
GeekMom received a copy of this book for review purposes.
