Of Sorrow and Such

A wonderful discovery in the shape of Australian author Angela Slatter's Of Sorrow and Such, a novella-length fantasy story which, as I discovered in the afterword, is set in the same world as some of Slatter's other stories, works extremely well a standalone piece.

The story centres on the village of Edda's Meadow, a place which has the feel of a 17th century New World settlement about it. The narrator, Patience Gideon, the village's wise woman selling herbal remedies to the locals whilst constantly keeping herself ready to flee at a moment's notice should she be suspected of witchcraft. Beneath the village's calm surface, intrigue abounds: one character has disposed of an illegitimate child, while another is making a slow but determined effort to do away with his wife.

Events are set in motion when a late night caller arrives with an injury serious enough to require the assistance of Patience' house guest, a powerful witch called Selke who is passing through on the underground railroad. Unfortunately, although the women are able to heal the caller, she proves to be shallow and thankless, and her subsequent actions endanger everyone — herself, her sister-in-law, Selke, Patience, and Patience' ward Gilly.

The setting is extremely well-drawn and sharply imagined, with an authentic feel of a place on the cusp of entering the modern age. The locals, though god-fearing, are willing to tolerate Patience and Gilly as long as they benefit from her medical skills and as long as they can convince themselves that she is not a witch.

The relationship between Patience and her foster daughter — who lacks the congenital gift of magic — is spot on, with Gilly's resentment at what she sees as Patience refusal to teach her rather than a missing ability, driving a wedge between the two and exacerbating the witch-hunt when it begins in earnest.

Selke, who eventually reveals the compromises she made that drove her to her current predicament, makes a good counterpart to Patience, highlighting the differences between their lifestyle choices. Flora and Ina, the other two principals, are a study in constrasts: Flora is flighty and shallow and unthinking; whereas Ina is steady and all too aware of the fragility of her situation, but unable to separate herself from the people she loves, regardless of the consequences.

As I say, a real find — not all that surprising given the number of awards Angela Slatter has picked up — that has me itching to read the rest of Slatter's output...