Review of Hemlock & Silver by T. Kingfisher
There’s something undeniably alluring about T. Kingfisher’s work, and Hemlock & Silver was no exception. The blend of whimsical elements and dark undertones promising a fresh retelling of Snow White caught my eye. As a fan of fairy tales reimagined, I approached this book with a mix of hope and skepticism. But what I encountered felt less like a new adventure and more like a recycling of old, tired elements.
At the story’s heart is Anja, a healer specializing in poisons, who gets roped into investigating the mysterious illness of Princess Snow. The unique angle of narrating from the perspective of a healer fascinated me initially. It offered the potential for an engaging exploration of themes like knowledge, power, and the complexities of good and evil. Unfortunately, Anja quickly transforms into a bumbling character who, despite her supposed expertise, is devoid of depth and realism.
Kingfisher’s prose retains her characteristic charm, blending humor and keen observation, but in Hemlock & Silver, it fails to hold the narrative together. The pacing falters as Anja stumbles through the story without any significant growth or real stakes. One notable plot hole involves the fact that Anja discovers antidotes in a kingdom named the Kingdom of Poisons—yet no one else appears to have thought to study them. It’s hard not to raise an eyebrow at this glaring inconsistency in world-building, especially coming from an author recognized for her creativity.
Moreover, while the novel’s exploration of a “peripheral retelling” concept could have offered rich potential, it ultimately falls short. Anja, initially a promising lens through which to explore this beloved tale, becomes emblematic of Kingfisher’s recurring trope: the "special snowflake." Her character seems designed to stand out as different from the traditional narratives, but in practice, it renders her less relatable. Instead of discovering new depths within the world of poisons, she merely showcases modern ideas transferred onto an archaic canvas, stripping the narrative of historical context.
The climax offers a resolution that feels rushed and unsatisfactory. Instead of a profound narrative payoff, we’re left with a supernatural twist that feels more like an escape route than a well-earned conclusion. The implications of Anja’s findings and her relationship with the king and his family deserved more exploration. As a reader, I yearned for a deeper emotional engagement, particularly when heavy themes like guilt and responsibility hang in the balance.
That said, Hemlock & Silver could still appeal to readers looking for light-hearted escapism or those who crave whimsical interpretations of classic tales. However, for those who seek depth and complexity in their narratives, this may fall flat. Personally, I felt a twinge of disappointment; I entered hoping for an exploration of the psyche behind a healer’s craft, and I left with a lingering sense of missed opportunities.
In the end, I think I’ve reached a saturation point with Kingfisher’s work. While her creative potential remains evident, I find myself yearning for a narrative that feels less rehashed and more innovative. Perhaps it’s time to venture into new worlds and voices—after all, there’s a whole library waiting to be explored.