Robert Holdstock

Mythago wood

Fraser Simons

Interesting concept, very strange, muddied execution. For a story about stories, it seems more preoccupied with inserting elements that remove agency and surprise, rather than weave something organic and thematically on point. 

I didn’t even really buy any of the characters, but the strength of the prose and the sort-of gothic fantastical over story kept me reading anyways. Because there are many stories I thought this one would have something meaningful and interesting to say, yet, as I said, it was more interested in a particular story and the casting of specific, but generic roles. 

Surprising ending. But that doesn’t equal good. In fact one part made me laugh out loud. Then it was sound enough, for a plot in which the protagonists only purpose is to be a puppet on a string. Like I said: concept and prose carry it to the end, then it fumbles, pretty much.

Deep within the wildwood lies a place of myth and mystery, from which few return, and of those few, none remain unchanged. Ryhope Wood may look like a three-mile-square fenced-in wood in rural Herefordshire on the outside, but inside, it is a primeval, intricate labyrinth of trees, impossibly huge, unforgettable ... and stronger than time itself. Stephen Huxley has already lost his father to the mysteries of Ryhope Wood. On his return from the Second World War, he finds his brother, Christopher, is also in thrall to the mysterious wood, wherein lies a realm where mythic archetypes grow flesh and blood, where love and beauty haunt your dreams, and in promises of freedom lies the sanctuary of insanity ...

Mythago wood

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