Wildthorn (edition 2010)

Wildthorn is not an ideal choice for those in search of happy fun times all the way through, but definitely an interesting topic not much touched on in teen literature. The first half of the novel switches between Louisa's experiences in the mental institution and her memories of her life and how she ended up there. Louisa is very sympathetic for a modern audience. The portrayal of the mental institution clearly reveals the horridness of that setup. Troublesome women truly were shunted off into these institutions and they could do nothing to escape. Most poignant is the impossibility of proving one's sanity. How do you convince people that you are not crazy when they keep calling you by a name that is not your own?

The lesbian angle was interesting too. Finding LGBT fiction for teens can be difficult; I took a course on young adult resources and in the week on this topic, we had no books about lesbians. This book fills a gap in teen literature and does quite a good job of it. Eagland does not shy away from the topic, nor does she overdo it. The story manages to be sweet and serious, a solid, slightly more deep than average teen read. It also has a beautiful cover!

Recommended if you like Sarah Waters, since this seems much like a teen version of Fingersmith. ( )

Not nearly well-written enough to pull off the first person present voice. You gotta be damned good to manage that, and this ain't.

I appreciated the overview of Victorian mental hospitals that this book provided, but I found the ending to be odd. An okay to good read. ( )

A 300-page pile of cliches. Tickyboxes include but are not limited to:
- Victorian young woman with an interest in medicine (just ONCE I want to read about a bluestocking with an interest in law or history or languages, just ONCE)
- the family daughter being cleverer than the son
- a supportive father
- a gender essentialist mother
- condemnation of premodern medical facilities
- goodhearted lower-class love interest

I did like that Eagland didn't shy away from the issue of incestuous sexual abuse in a preFreudian world, though.

If this is the first queer historical fiction you've read, it will be fresh and dangerous-feeling. If it's the fiftieth, you will want to fling it across the room. Sorry. ( )

I was expecting more of a psychological journey, but Wildthorn was an enjoyable book none-the-less.

Louisa is not a normal girl; she enjoys reading, has an interest in science and desires to become a doctor. She is also disobedient and disrespectful to her betters and sees no reason to be married, all signs of being insane in Victorian England. When she is sent to live with a new family, to be a companion to their daughter Louisa jumps at the chance to get away from her stuffy family, but she soon realises that something is horribly wrong when her carriage pulls up at the gates of Wildthorn Hall.

Louisa was a relatable character, I think any book reviewer who reads this will find it hitting uncomfortably close to home. She loves to read, she loves to experiment with chemicals that her father gives her, she wants to study to become a doctor and find work in the community, she wants to do everything except become a lady, which is what she has to become because of her family’s status.

Wildthorn was very well written it was on my mind from the moment I picked it up until a few days after I finished it. Louisa’s character was engrossing, with her holding onto what she knew and trying to find a way out. From what I had read previously about this book though, I was expecting more of a psychological thriller in Louisa struggling with who she was. Was she Lucy or Louisa? But that didn’t come across for me, it was clear that she knew who she was and that there was no doubt in her mind, there could have been a little more doubt from the staff at Wildthorn but it came across that they were only calling her Lucy because they had to, they never tried to make her believe it, unlike what they did with their other patients whom they would scream at that their fantasies weren’t real.

For me, Wildthorn was more of a whodunit, who committed her? Why did they commit her to an insane asylum? Would she get out? Could she trust anyone anymore? And the answers were fascinating. It had me turning pages faster than what I realised and yearning for what happened next after it was over.

Eagland’s characters were in depth even though most of them weren’t around that much because we spent so much time with Louisa in the asylum, it made the mystery of who would do that to their own relative much more of a need to know rather than just a mild curiosity.

The atrocities that Louisa and the other patients had to deal with at the hands of their wardens, and the fact that this really happened to so many women during the time, all because in most cases their families couldn’t be bothered with them anymore or because they wouldn’t conform to social standards had more of an effect on me than I really thought possible. Wildthorn has opened up my world to a whole new genre of reading, a whole new subject that I want to learn about. It also brought me out of a reading funk that I have been in for a long time now, which is one of the perks of great books.

Wildthorn was an engrossing read, it was not what I was expecting, but what I got had me on the edge of my seat (literally in some cases) and flying through pages as fast as I could.

Find this review at storywings.com ( )