” ‘I end and begin in the Driada, and that is how it will be for eternity. The wood must always have a warden.’ ”
Debut author, Poranek, delivers a captivating tale in Where the Dark Stands Still, seamlessly merging the comforting essence of cottage-core aesthetics with the unsettling allure of a magical forest teeming with demonic entities. It’s been aptly described as a delightful concoction of Howl’s Moving Castle charm interwoven with the rich tapestry of Polish Folklore, and perhaps a dash of Beauty and the Beast for romantic measure. This book immediately establishes a strong sense of atmosphere, drawing readers into a world imbued with whimsy and subtle chills. The sentient house, the mystical woods, and the enigmatic spirits are particularly compelling elements, layering the narrative with a unique cozy yet fantastical vibe. Adding to its appeal is the refreshing and subtly woven queer representation, a welcome surprise within the genre. For readers seeking a classic romantic fantasy with a close-knit, unconventional family, a spirited, Howl-esque ancient being, and a deep dive into Slavic folklore, Where the Dark Stands Still is a highly recommended read.
“Children do foolish things until they are old enough to understand they are foolish—until their father teaches them to weave the straw hangings found in every Stodola home, or their mother explains why she ties their hair with crimson ribbons.”
For those, like myself, with limited prior knowledge of Slavic folklore, Where the Dark Stands Still offers an intriguing and accessible entry point. Without venturing into spoiler territory, the portrayal of the Leszy is particularly fascinating and compelling. The forest itself is populated with a diverse array of spirits, each contributing to the story’s depth and richness. The intricate workings of the woods and the Leszy’s role within this ecosystem are seamlessly integrated into the narrative. Later in the story, another figure from Slavic mythology emerges, injecting a dramatic shift in pace. This character’s somewhat abrupt arrival propels the narrative from a gentle, cozy read into a more action-oriented finale. While the execution of this plot turn might feel slightly uneven, it ultimately adds an unexpected layer to the story. Overall, the exploration of Polish folklore is a significant strength of the book, providing a sense of delightful unpredictability, especially for readers unfamiliar with these mythic elements.
““That was when Liska knew that there was something wrong with her that could not be prayed away. The thing inside her, it made people afraid.””
The novel’s setting within a society transitioning to monotheism from pagan beliefs creates a compelling backdrop for exploring themes of acceptance and self-discovery. Liska’s village, deeply entrenched in its rejection of the old gods and magic, forces her to grapple with her own magical abilities in secrecy. This internal conflict, where Liska suppresses her true nature to gain acceptance, resonates with familiar struggles. Her journey of coming to terms with her magic and confronting her fears forms a powerful and well-developed plotline. The narrative skillfully employs magic as a metaphor for societal prejudices, particularly evident in the dialogue. A pivotal moment occurs when Liska, swayed by the church’s condemnation of magic, is sharply corrected by the Leszy: ‘No,’ he says sharply. ‘The church is clever.’ This highlights the church’s strategic demonization of magic to consolidate its own power, a parallel that poignantly reflects the queer experience and the pressures to suppress one’s identity. This metaphorical use of magic is both insightful and deeply resonant, adding layers of meaning to Liska’s personal journey.
““ ‘Impressed?’ he asks, amused. ‘I think I might be going into shock.’ ‘I do have that effect on women,’ he says casually.””
The characters truly breathe life into Where the Dark Stands Still. The Leszy, a witty and somewhat capricious 700-year-old spirit, possesses a distinct Howl-like charm, while Liska is his perfect foil, capable of sharp retorts and engaging banter. Their dynamic is punctuated by dry humor, evident in exchanges like: “The people of Wałkowo are used to my visits by now,’ he says. ‘At least I assume so, since they’ve stopped screaming at the mere sight of me.’ ” This playful interaction is consistently entertaining and makes their relationship feel grounded and believable. However, the romantic aspect of their connection is arguably the book’s weakest point. The Leszy’s previous romantic history feels more compelling, and while Liska and the Leszy’s individual interactions are enjoyable, the romantic spark feels somewhat muted. Furthermore, the repeated pet name “not-so-clever fox” becomes tiresome. Despite a few moments that verge on cliché, these elements cleverly serve to subvert expectations in the book’s conclusion, a narrative choice that proves to be surprisingly effective. Interestingly, despite being categorized as fantasy romance, the romantic plotline takes a backseat to the broader themes. The central relationship between Liska and the Leszy is more profoundly about learning to love and trust in any form, rather than solely romantic love.
““… she is not defined by her magic, for better or for worse.””
Where the romance storyline may have been understated, the found family trope is executed with remarkable strength. Liska’s inherent kindness shines throughout the book, and watching her gather a diverse group of individuals within the sentient house, forging bonds with both the dwelling and the woods, feels organic and genuinely heartwarming. The found family dynamic serves as the emotional core of the narrative. Liska’s ability to create safe and nurturing spaces for others, particularly given her own past lack of such security, is deeply moving. Through this process of building her found family, Liska begins to challenge her self-perception, distancing herself from the church’s negative view of her and embracing self-love and growth.
““What is fate but an excuse to surrender responsibility?””
While the middle portion of Where the Dark Stands Still occasionally loses momentum, the final chapters masterfully bring the narrative threads together, culminating in a deeply satisfying resolution. The ending effectively subverts earlier expectations, reframing some of the potentially cringe-worthy elements in a fresh and appreciative light. Poranek’s narrative choices in the conclusion are genuinely impactful and elevate the entire reading experience. This strong ending leaves a lasting positive impression and generates considerable anticipation for Poranek’s future works.
Final Verdict: 3.5/5
