Fairy tales are more than mere bedtime stories; they are living, breathing repositories of ancient wisdom and magick.
In The Night House, bestselling author and word-witch Danielle Dulsky peels back the layers of these timeless narratives to reveal their potent role as guides for navigating today’s world. Historically kept and passed on by women, fairy tales are distinguishable from other types of folk tales by their supernatural elements, and because of this, they were often dismissed as trivial fantasies for women and children. Danielle illuminates how this marginalization kept these stories safe from the witch-hunter’s noose and allowed women to safely store and transmit their sacred age-old wisdom for new generations to uncover and explore. Her fresh and relevant commentary will support your kinship with the Earth, ancestors, and your own living myth. The Night House shows how a single fairy tale is actually a treasure box of coded knowledge and magickal practice that has remained largely intact, preserved under the floorboards of the Yaga’s hut for us to find.
True to the fairytales and folklore Danielle Dulsky reimagines, every word in this book triggered an ancient remembering in my being for the wild, chaotic and magickal. Part story, all ritual, this collection is intended to be savored. I got so much out of my first read-through and look forward to revisiting in the future to uncover new layers.
I recently finished reading Danielle Dulsky's latest book, The Night House: Folklore, Fairy Tales, Rites, and Magick for the Wise and Wild. I was excited to pick up this book because it analyzes the magic of fairy tales, with each chapter tackling a new fairy tale and its magic within. However, it wasn't exactly what I expected, but it was still worth the read.
The Night House is broken down into sections based on the rooms of a house. You can read straight through or choose the stories at "random" to divine your needs and future. I like books that you can approach in a non-linear way, but there are two stories in the final section that do intersect, so if you are attempting a non-linear read, skim through the three rites at the end to ensure they don't build on earlier rites. The first room, "Hidden Rooms and Wild Skins," addresses the cloaks we wear- the red hood, a mossy cloak, the tattered hood, or the swan skin. These rites and rituals build on our connection to the earth, the magic of these skins and cloaks we wear, and how we can access our higher self. The second room, "The Bone Cellar," addresses the liminal space between life and death, connecting us to the lessons we can learn by passing to the Otherworld and listening to its stories. The final room, "The Spirit Tower," addresses the interconnection of our waking and dreaming selves and the deals we make with the "devil" to secure our future.
While I was hoping for significantly more analysis of the fairy tales than what was given (If you have been following me for a while, you know I love a dense academic approach to witchcraft and folklore), I loved how Dulsky wove these tales into reflections of our modern lives, specifically through the witch wound. The witch wound, for those who do not know, is a trauma we suffered collectively during the witch hunts and trials, which turned women against women and outracized those that could be considered "different." This resulted in small magics being passed down in innocuous stories, which Dulsky argues are fairy tales. There isn't a ton of evidence cited in Dulsky's work supporting this theory, but I am sure there is research out there that does.
While Dulsky doesn't offer much critical analysis of each tale, she does provide three rites for each story, some of which feel slightly disconnected without the analysis supporting its inclusion. My favorite story and rites was The Mage's Bird, which is about protecting innocence while still fighting against the atrocities of the world so it can be a better place for innocence. The first rite includes hiding an egg from the world (representing innocence); in the second, you reclaim what is yours and your strengths; the final rite concludes with a banishment of all you want gone from the world so our future children can be born into a better life. This chapter also ignites a fury over the missing ones: indigenous women, children, and others who have been lost. It's a profoundly impactful story, and if you take nothing else from the book, I hope it's the lesson of The Mage's Bird.
Like all of Dulsky's works, the prose is flowery and indirect, making it a uniquely enjoyable experience. If you are looking for something new to get you out of a magical slump, I always suggest Dulsky's works, which now happily includes The Night House: Folklore, Fairy Tales, Rites, and Magick for the Wise and Wild.
'The Night House: Folklore, Fairy Tales, and Magick for the Wise and Wild' by Danielle Duksky is storytelling at its finest.
In these Tower times we need storytellers now more than ever before.
Danielle IS an otherworldly storyteller.
Her ability to weave words particularly for the Wild Ones is a gift few possess. It's Alchemy.
Each story, each word is a howl and homage to the paradox of nature - how it's equal parts beautiful and brutal.
The pages are filled with earth, song, bones, rhythm and Soul dance.
This book enlivens the senses with every new story; taking the reader on a journey of self-discovery.
The Rites given are timely as ever.
This is one of those books you keep by your bedside to read as a balm for the wounds life has created and is creating. The same way a beloved Grandmother or Mother would lull you to sleep with tales, this book is that voice, that companion.
A comfort. A calling. A welcoming. To return home to yourself.
Danielle Dulsky’s The Night House: Folklore, Fairy Tales, Rites, and Magick for the Wise and Wild is a luminous and deeply resonant exploration of fairy tales as vessels of feminine wisdom and spiritual power. As a reader, I found myself both intellectually engaged and emotionally stirred by Dulsky’s assertion that these stories are far more than children’s fables—they are coded transmissions of ancestral knowledge, carefully preserved by women in the face of historical suppression. Her argument that fairy tales were dismissed as trivial precisely because they held subversive power struck me as both poignant and revelatory.
What I appreciated most about this book was Dulsky’s ability to weave scholarly insight with lyrical prose, making esoteric concepts feel immediate and visceral. Her reverence for the natural world and the sacred feminine is palpable, and I often found myself pausing to reflect on passages that evoked a deep sense of connection to the Earth and the unseen threads linking generations of women. There were moments when her writing stirred something almost primal in me—a recognition of forgotten truths, a longing for the wild, untamed wisdom she describes.
That said, while Dulsky’s poetic style is one of the book’s strengths, there were instances where I wished for more structured analysis. At times, her interpretations of fairy tales felt deeply personal, which, while beautiful, left me craving a more systematic unpacking of how these narratives function as magickal blueprints. A deeper engagement with historical or anthropological sources might have strengthened her arguments without sacrificing the book’s mystical tone.
Despite this, The Night House is a compelling and necessary work, particularly for those drawn to earth-based spirituality, feminist reinterpretations of folklore, or the reclamation of women’s spiritual heritage. Dulsky’s voice is both a guide and a companion, inviting readers to see fairy tales not as relics of the past but as living, breathing maps for personal and collective transformation.
Thank you to the publisher and Edelweiss for providing a free review copy of this book. It was a gift to engage with Dulsky’s wisdom, and I look forward to returning to its pages again and again as both a scholar and a seeker.