He Who Would Walk the Earth

by Griffin Bjerke-Clarke

Sparse and dreamy, Griffin Bjerke-Clarke’s debut novel explores memory, identity, trauma, and healing through a timeless journey. Métis storytelling methods and elements of horror infuse He Who Would Walk the Earth, an anti-colonial western that powerfully evokes a mood reminiscent of twentieth-century classics like Waiting for Godot.

Felix Babimoosay is his most recent name, and it seems better than any other name he’s been offered. He journeys ever forward across a sharp landscape of flat plains, stung by insects, wind, and thirst. Unable to remember his past, he doggedly walks alone through the decaying world until he is pursued by a threatening man claiming a bounty on Felix’s head. Felix’s irritation spurs a slow memory of the days he left behind, until he stumbles into a corrupted town and a city of talking crows that push him to move beyond his lost memories.

This book unsettles as much as it stokes, dystopian in Felix’s apathy yet optimistic in the way he addresses challenges along his listless way. In the end, Felix must learn from his earnest mistakes as he begins to understand that agency requires collaborating with those around him. 

160 pages, Paperback

Published April 30, 2025

Reviews

[Hayden · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this one. It reminds me a lot of The Hike by Drew Magary, one of my favorite reads from last year, but is unique in its author’s voice and in its non-linear, dreamlike narrative style. There is very little exposition (which I loved), so it takes the first quarter of the book to get a grasp on the storytelling, but as soon as you do, it’s a great adventure.

The author states on the back that he grew up far from his roots, and much of his adult life has been spent forming new connections to ancestry and identity. I think that plays out a lot in this novel in interesting ways, the whole picture feels very allegorical. So happy to have stumbled on this by chance, so refreshing!

[Roberta Cox · Rating 1 out of 5]

Felix, if that was his real name, is walking across the plains and while walking, encounters other people, town, rivers, caverns, castles, crows, stone talking snakes. This is a dystopian and fantastical story of a person trying to find himself after trauma, loss of memory and identity, and who learns how cooperating with others can bring healing. It utilizes Metis story telling methods which I likely don’t understand.

[Ariela · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was such a lovely and pleasant surprise. I don’t know what I was expecting from this book, but it certainly wasn’t what I read here. This book feels so dreamy. The setting is sparse and void of any warmth or comfort, the story is incredibly thought-provoking and interesting. One of the big things about the story is that it’s so nicely paced, there’s time to care, there’s time to run and flee, but there’s also time to breathe and think about a lot of things.

A slight drawback is that there’s not much vivid imagery in this book. However, this can be excused by the fact there’s actually not much to picture. It’s set in vast open plains, Felix lives there and wanders around a lot. We don’t really get any more than that. Characters come and go, but they’re really nothing more than just characters, they exist only as their personalities, and not very visually. I think it’s a stylistic choice, and I don’t think this hinders the reading experience in the slightest, because you’re just imagining everything in your head anyways, and it’s not too hard to just imagine a few more people. I actually thought this was a really interesting technique because they still felt like really good, really fleshed out, well written characters, just minus the visuals.

Not a huge fan of the 3rd act of this book. Lots of stuff happens, but it really starts to suddenly lean more into the “fantasy” aspect of the world. I like that there’s worldbuilding, but I do also find that there’s not enough? I think the lack of visuals certainly affects that. It’s very strange, because whereas the whole book feels extremely dream-like, in the 3rd act, suddenly everything gets dialled up to 11. All of the original worldbuilding that I previously praised for being removed from the real world just comes crashing down, and I got so incredibly lost.

That being said! I would certainly recommend this book, it’s an enjoyable read, I was very pleasantly surprised, and I think that there are a lot of others who can enjoy it too. It’s a very thought-provoking book, it’s very powerful and unique in it’s storytelling. I would recommend it if you’re into that!

[Joanne Ellis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Griffin Bjerke-Clarke’s He Who Would Walk the Earth is a haunting and poetic debut that unfolds like a myth half-remembered, both spare and rich in meaning. At its core is Felix Babimoosay—a man adrift in a decaying world, burdened by forgetfulness, and chased by shadows from a past he cannot recall. With a name that feels chosen yet uncertain, Felix stumbles forward through desolate plains and strange towns, dogged not just by thirst and danger, but by a slow resurrection of memory.

This novel is not interested in linear storytelling or easy exposition. Instead, it weaves a dreamlike narrative, steeped in Métis oral tradition, that pulses with atmosphere and symbolic depth. As Felix encounters a city of talking crows and a town soured by corruption, Bjerke-Clarke taps into allegorical layers of colonial trauma, personal reckoning, and the elusiveness of identity.

The tone is quiet, almost meditative, but never dull. Echoing the existential fatigue of Waiting for Godot, Felix’s journey feels like a post-apocalyptic western without gunfire—a slow reckoning with past wrongs and internal emptiness. There is horror here too, not in sudden shocks but in the unsettling quietude of isolation and the distorted landscapes of memory and loss.

What sets He Who Would Walk the Earth apart is its refusal to separate personal healing from collective action. Felix’s growth hinges not on regaining his past, but on forging connection and understanding through collaboration. In doing so, Bjerke-Clarke offers a subtly radical take on agency—not as power over others, but as responsibility shared with others.

Verdict:
He Who Would Walk the Earth is a lyrical, disquieting meditation on identity and redemption, wrapped in the shell of a quiet dystopia. It reads like a folktale set loose in the ruins of the world, marking Griffin Bjerke-Clarke as a bold and thoughtful new literary voice.

[Amanda · Rating 4 out of 5]

He Who Would Walk the Earth blends western with a subtly dystopian setting. The atmosphere reminded me a bit of In the Distance by Hernan Diaz, a lone boy walking the dry plains, but He who would walk the is more eerie, more fast-paced, more reminiscent of something post-apocalyptic rather than historic. Griffin Bjerke-Clarke has crafted a compelling story in a short book and a main character (Felix Babimoosay) that intrigued me from the very first pages. For me, this was a "don't judge the book by its cover", cause what's inside the pages was much more intriguing to me than the cover. Very interested to see what Griffin writes next!

Thanks to Columbia University Press for the e-Arc through NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

[B.Z. Norohna · Rating 4 out of 5]

EArc provided courtesy of NetGalley

Beautiful fablelike quality to the writing, which did admittedly take me a minute to get used to as the style and narrative nature was so far removed from what I am used to. Very much enjoyed learning with Felix over the course of the novel and feel it to be very relevant today and the manner in which the narrative unfolds meant that I, as the reader, felt as if I grew with him.

3.75 Stars

[Andra · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was interesting and subtle. I went in blind, as I go for all books, let them surprise me, and this one took me a bit ti understand.

It’s a short book, not the easiest to follow for me, and once I read a but more about it, I understood the subtleties I missed whilst reading. A subtle western style, partly horror story about identity, trauma and grief, it was a good way to look at things differently, a short foray into a different kind if writing that I don’t normally go for, and an interesting way to look at the not so pretty parts of life whilst searching for who you are.

[Reader · Rating 5 out of 5]

He Who Would Walk the Earth paints a vivid and powerful picture of the struggle with identity, trauma, acceptance, and the search for belonging. The writing captures Felix’s painful journey in a way that is both accessible and resonant—especially for young people. The stark contrast between the horrors of the world and Felix’s inner turmoil, apathy, and eventual attempts to fit in somewhere struck a deep chord with me.

The sense of being lost and numb is all too real, particularly for youth in vulnerable communities. Yet, the glimpses of hope and moments of kindness/sacrifice were incredibly moving—a reminder of the goodness we all need to hold onto. The journey of rediscovering oneself after immense grief and trauma is woven throughout the narrative; the scars of war, pain, and genocide are lasting, but not defining.

Felix’s story shows us that even after great suffering, we can begin to heal and reconnect with our inner strength. The issues explored in this book are handled with care and depth, making for an authentic and impactful read.

Overall, this is a complex, nuanced, and unforgettable story—I couldn’t put it down.