Marchpane's Reviews > The Vaster Wilds

‘She flew as fast as she could over the mud thinly frozen again in the chill night, into the wild dark woods, because what was behind her was far more deadly than whatever could lie ahead.’

Lauren Groff’s books are consistently great reads for me. And I mean consistently: this is the fifth book from her that I have read and the fifth one that I’ve rated four stars.

That batting average is telling. My ratings have never dropped below a four, but they have never risen to a five either. I love the evocative and dreamy nature of Groff’s prose; it has a headiness to it. Maybe inherent in this style—typically third person POV—is some aloofness as well, that gets in the way of a more emotional connection to her stories—something extra to tip it into five-star territory. That lovely prose, every sentence so polished, creates a gauzy veil over the action, softening the sharp edges, removing the sting.

This effect is most discordant in The Vaster Wilds: a dark, moody, bleak story, descriptive of all kinds of privation, brutality and violence, but told almost serenely. (The first signs of an illness: ‘Quietly, what bad seeds that had ridden in her blood since the settlement now flowered upon her skin’.) What begins as a survival tale evolves into a spiritual journey, ending on a transcendent note. It’s that ending, both for its message and for its beautiful imagery, that will stick with me for a long time. 4 stars (again).