Black Woods, Blue Sky

by Eowyn Ivey

An unforgettable dark fairy tale that asks, Can love save us from ourselves?

Birdie’s keeping it together; of course she is. So she’s a little hungover sometimes, and she has to bring her daughter, Emaleen, to her job waiting tables at an Alaskan roadside lodge, but she’s getting by as a single mother in a tough town. Still, Birdie can remember happier times from her youth, when she was free in the wilds of nature.

Arthur Neilsen, a soft-spoken and scarred recluse who appears in town only at the change of seasons, brings Emaleen back to safety when she gets lost in the woods. Most people avoid him, but to Birdie he represents everything she’s ever longed for. She finds herself falling for Arthur and the land he knows so well. Against the warnings of those who care about them, Birdie and Emaleen move to his isolated cabin in the mountains on the far side of the Wolverine River.

It’s just the three of them in the vast black woods, far from roads, telephones, electricity, and outside contact, but Birdie believes she has come prepared. At first, it’s idyllic, but soon Birdie discovers that Arthur is something much more mysterious and dangerous than she could have imagined, and that like the Alaska wilderness, a fairy tale can be as dark as it is beautiful.

Genres: Fantasy, Fiction, Magical Realism, Romance, Literary Fiction, Retellings, Audiobook

306 pages, Hardcover

First published February 4, 2025

About the author

Eowyn Ivey is the author of The Snow Child, To the Bright Edge of the World and Black Woods Blue Sky. She lives in Alaska with her family.

Reviews

[Nilufer Ozmekik · Rating 5 out of 5]

Eowyn Ivey’s “Black Woods, Blue Sky” is a mesmerizing journey into the heart of Alaska’s untamed wilderness, masterfully blending the enchantment of fairy tales with the stark realities of human nature. Ivey’s evocative prose paints the Alaskan landscape in vivid hues, capturing both its breathtaking beauty and unforgiving harshness.

At the story’s core is Birdie, a resilient single mother striving to provide a better life for her daughter, Emaleen. Their encounter with the enigmatic Arthur Neilsen sets off a chain of events that lead them deep into the secluded wilderness, where dreams of an idyllic existence soon confront unsettling truths.

Ivey delves deep into themes of love, transformation, and the intrinsic connection between humans and nature. The narrative explores the profound impact of those we allow into our lives, illustrating how relationships can alter our paths in unforeseen ways.

The portrayal of various forms of love—maternal, romantic, and a profound bond with the natural world—adds rich layers to the storytelling.

The character development is exceptional. Birdie’s journey from yearning for freedom to facing the complexities of her choices is both heart-wrenching and inspiring. Emaleen’s innocence and wonder bring a refreshing perspective, while Arthur’s mysterious aura keeps readers engaged, questioning the fine line between reality and myth.

“Black Woods, Blue Sky” is more than a novel; it’s an immersive experience that challenges readers to reflect on the delicate balance between desire and reality, and the sacrifices we make in pursuit of our dreams. Ivey’s storytelling prowess ensures that this tale lingers long after the final page is turned.

A very huge thanks to NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group for sharing this brilliant book’s digital reviewer copy with me in exchange for my honest thoughts.

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[Yun · Rating 1 out of 5]

You even hint at a Beauty and the Beast retelling, and of course I'm there. But not only did this not satisfy my dark fairy tale heart, it didn't even make for a decent story.

Birdie is a single mother to a young girl, and she knows life is tough. She's scraping by working at a bar in Alaska, but all she wants is freedom. When she meets Arthur, it doesn't take long before she realizes he could be the answer to her prayers. She and her daughter move out soon after to live with him in the wilderness. But there is another side to Arthur that Birdie can't acknowledge, and just maybe it's the most dangerous thing of all.

Let's start with the romance. I'll tell you what, romance books catch so much flack for instalove and they've got nothing on what happened here. From the moment Birdie meets Arthur, she incessantly tries to engage with him. After a few awkward, mostly one-sided conversations—you know, cause Arthur's a bear so he doesn't talk much—Birdie decides that she must really like the guy. So she invites herself and her daughter to live with him at his cabin in the remote wilderness. Hmm, after such an auspicious start, I'm sure nothing bad can happen.

Of course, sex and instalove go hand in hand, so there's Birdie constantly trying to have sex with Arthur. After he runs away from her a few times, they finally succeed, only for the session to be described as if she's having sex with a bear, complete with lots of pawing and biting. The whole thing came off as a bit creepy, not gonna lie. By this point, I'm starting to get a sense that maybe this story isn't going to be all that I was hoping for.

But it isn't just Birdie and Arthur's romance I found icky. I also couldn't stand Birdie as a person. Every issue in this story stemmed from her poor decision making and lack of common sense. She was so self-centered and negligent in parenting, she often left her young child by herself without any warning or provisions. We kept having to read about how poor Emaleen was left stranded by herself yet again, cold and hungry and worried that her mother ran off without her. By the third time, I was pretty much fed up.

Every time I think the story couldn't get any more outlandish or offensive, there is yet another development that has my jaw dropping in shock. The only way this could've worked would be as horror or satire, but unfortunately it's not. It's as earnest literary fiction as they come.

The writing matches the dreary landscape, full of dull paragraphs about the Alaskan wilderness and dialogues that lacked even an ounce of spark. There were many moments I was just skim-reading, hoping desperately for something to catch my attention.

It's such a shame because there were a few scenes of true insightfulness in here, but they were completely overshadowed by the bizarre story. At one point, Birdie was pondering her desire not to miss a single moment with her child versus her need for independence to be her own person. That constant tug and pull of motherhood resonated with me so much, I wanted to cry. Another poignant scene had Warren and Emaleen sitting side by side, finding common ground with each other while taking the moment to appreciate the natural world.

But those two scenes were it. The rest of the story was so bizarre and appalling, I'm at a loss. I kept waiting for it to turn around, to redeem itself, but it only got worse and worse.

What was the author hoping to accomplish here? What was the point of all this? That there is no redemption for anyone? That animals lack humanity and don't deserve second chances? I really don't know. All I know is that this didn't satisfy my fairy tale itch—or even just the itch for a good coherent story. I hated almost every moment of it and am glad to be done.

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[Marquise · Rating 1 out of 5]

Note: This review and the reading progress updates are full of spoilers. Read at your discretion.

I'm going to toss a coin up in the air to decide whether to open my review with the negatives or the positives first.

The negatives won. Perhaps because there's only one positive aspect here, and it's sadly not enough.

First off, let's outline my major issues as clearly as possible. They could be grouped up in two points:
a. This is Beauty & Beast no matter how much others without in-depth knowledge of the tale insist it isn't. The poor handling of a story doesn't make it any less of a retelling as much as a bad one. Even Ivey tried to walk back her previous statement that this was a B&B retelling, and in the process made it even worse for her book in my eyes. I'll be quoting her own words.

b. I do understand why some felt the need to pre-emptively defend this, though, even if it now reflects very poorly on their criteria. There's one scene nobody is mentioning that's going to be a key point in my critique.

Now, on to elaborating on these points!

When this book was first publicised, Eowyn Ivey said this was a Beauty and Beast retelling, and also stated there was also an element of East of the Sun, West of the Moon in it that was included in the early ARCs sent out to reviewers. Naturally, this was a huge catch to some readers that would otherwise not have picked her book up in a million years, myself included. I'm known on this site and elsewhere for being a fanatic reader of retellings, especially B&B retellings, so when Heidi Anne Heiner at SurLaLune pitched this as a B&B story, I ran to buy my own copy.

But then I saw some ARC reviewers strenuously claiming this wasn't B&B at all, and at first I didn't pay attention. It's not the first time reviewers say that, they've said the same about other popular and very obvious retellings, things like "this isn't a retelling" or "it's very loose," and once I read the actual books, I can see for myself that they're very, very wrong. I ascribe all that to their lack of familiarity with the original fairy tales, because although they may have read them, they don't really have the context or the in-depth knowledge, and thus their opinion isn't exactly of much value to me regarding making a decision to read or not read and criticise a book as a retelling.

However, Eowyn Ivey herself then jumped in into the "is it a retelling?" discussion, trying to walk back her early statements. That put me on the alert, because it isn't uncommon for an author to start a story as one thing and finish it as something completely different (stories do have minds of their own, ask anyone who's ever tried to write; even I lose control of my reviews as I write them and end up saying different things to what I had planned). I thought: Well, if that's the case, what a pity. But there's no shame in starting a book as a retelling and it escaping your hands and ending up as not-a-retelling. Had it been the case here, I wouldn't have minded, I would've been understanding.

But Black Woods, Blue Sky is a B&B story... It has all the framework, the bones, the theme, and references, not just of B&B but of a host of other tales. To a tale-knowledgeable reader like me, the pile up of fairy and folktale references can be dizzying and annoying. Just in the opening chapters, there's already three tales referenced. And, overall, there's three classic fairy tales mixed in here, on top of the former, all of them B&B/Animal Bridegroom type of tales. And, as cherry of the cake, there's grizzly bear folktale lore from the North American indigenous peoples.

How, then, could I not take this as a B&B/Animal Bridegroom story given what the text shows and tells me?

And, to make things even more clear to me that this book was definitely intended as a retelling, Eowyn Ivey said this when describing her inspiration source and her intentions for the book's storyline:

"For Christmas in 1980 my grandparents sent me a beautiful copy of Beauty and the Beast illustrated by Mercer Mayer. I was 7 years old at the time, and more than four decades later I still have that copy. There was something about the story that haunted me even then, something that felt familiar but also not quite true. Over the years, I’ve collected many different versions of this shapeshifting story, including East of the Sun West of the Moon, the Lady and the Lion, and the Brown Bear of Norway. Back in 2016 or so, I realized that they held the key to the novel I wanted to write. Early on I described Black Woods, Blue Sky as a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, but that’s not quite accurate. Instead, I was wrestling with the fairy tale, interrogating it as I tried to get at the truth. Growing up, I learned that love was both incredibly powerful and utterly powerless. Fairy tales told me that if a woman was beautiful and virtuous enough, she could break the spell that tortured a man. As a little girl I witnessed the dangerous fallacy of this idea. Black Woods, Blue Sky is about the kind of extraordinary and troubled love affair you read in these fairy tales, but it’s also my attempt to hold it accountable. And perhaps more importantly, I wanted to show how people’s choices ripple through time. At the very heart of Black Woods, Blue Sky is Emaleen - the 6-year-old girl who has little autonomy but will be forever changed by the choices of the adults in her life. I wrote into the darkest fears and most magical memories of my childhood growing up in Alaska, and for me personally, Black Woods Blue Sky is the most important story I’ve ever told. It’s incredible to have it finally out in the world."

When I saw that, I thought "Oh, my goodness, not again." Not again, because once more I had stumbled upon an author who claims to be a fan/obsessed with B&B and yet utterly and completely misunderstands it and its message, if they even understand it at all in the first place. Let's list the number of wrong things about Beauty & Beast Ivey says in that post:

a. "... this shapeshifting story." Sorry, Ms. Ivey, but if you declare yourself obsessed with the Mayers' version (a retelling, by the way, in case you didn't know) and come up with the conclusion that B&B is a shapeshifting story, I have to seriously question your analytic ability. Beast is no shapeshifter, at all, not ever. There are Animal Bridegroom tales that do feature shapeshifters, but B&B and East of the Sun, West of the Moon aren't one of those.
b. "Fairy tales told me that if a woman was beautiful and virtuous enough, she could break the spell that tortured a man." LOL, ah, yes, that's exactly what the ignoramuses out there say B&B is about, never taking into account that this "I can fix him"/Bad Boy Redeemed by Good Girl trope has nothing to do with B&B and wasn't originated by it or its variants. Again, are you sure you read the Mayers' version? Because that one is based on Villeneuve's, the original one, and it outlines why Beast is in the position he is and why Beauty chooses him. Given the scene you wrote in your own book here, I know for sure you haven't read or understood Villeneuve, and hence your "I can fix him" interpretation of the tale that, to be frank, only tells us you have childhood traumas that you're writing over the tale as your own projection.
c. "Black Woods, Blue Sky is about the kind of extraordinary and troubled love affair you read in these fairy tales, but it’s also my attempt to hold it accountable." So you not only misinterpreted B&B as a Fix the Bad Boy story but also projected your own backstory of domestic violence on it as some kind of story about abuse. Bluntly put: you failed even at that, I'm sorry. There's zero accountability for domestic violence in your book.

Now, let's go to the book's plot itself. In this story, we have Birdie, a shockingly irresponsible, selfish, alcoholic, and drug-taking single mother who, by the way, is also a sexual predator and an attempted rapist. Surprised? I bet you weren't expecting Beauty to sexually assault Beast, and the other reviewers won't tell you this, if they even noticed that awful scene. Sexual assault of females on males is often poo-poohed, I've read actual scholars brushing off the evil fairy's grooming and molestation of the prince she turned into Beast as merely "inappropriate feelings" instead of calling it for what it is. In this book, Birdie meets Arthur, an awkward and solitary virgin man that shows developmental issues, and instantly starts having sexual designs on him, first by expecting him to assault her when he's not done anything suspicious, then by expecting sex jokes from him when he doesn't know any, and finally by overtly rubbing her hip against him as she talks to him flirty, ignoring his discomfort, and finally inviting him to her cabin and starting to have sex with him when he clearly is uncomfortable and doesn't know what to do because, you know, he's a bear and has zero experience with sex. When he hurriedly regains control of himself, dresses up, and leaves without a word, she runs naked after him and yells at him for not having sex with her against his will.

Seriously, I'm not making this up. Read the scene by yourself if you have the book.

Oh, and then she impulsively decides to move in with Arthur into his cabin out in the boonies after this assault, without warning him first, and utterly neglects her small daughter's needs in favour of being with Arthur. Curiously, she doesn't even bother to find out what's his problem, she accepts everything, even his vague replies to her legitimate questions. It's her daughter who finds out he's a bear shapeshifter on her own, and keeps it a secret. A child who's always disobeying Birdie's orders suddenly decides she'll keep THAT one secret? How convenient. And when Birdie finally finds out when the child blabs, she isn't afraid or reconsiders her decision: she stays with the bear, fully knowing he's dangerous, and the bear ends up killing her. Why? Because the idiot woman left her child alone in the cabin to go search for the bear after shooting him when he behaved dangerously and almost attacked the child.

There's domestic abuse in this story, yes, as Ivey herself has a background in domestic abuse she projected on this story, but . . . there's no accountability. Why not? Because, for one, Arthur is a bear. When he is in his bear form, he's fully a bear with a bear mind and bear instincts. Tell me, can you hold an animal accountable for being aggressive or killing stupid humans who provoke them? No! They are animals, they act on instinct, they don't have a conscience of what is right and wrong. They kill humans to protect themselves, for goodness' sake. When Arthur is in his human form, he tells Emaleen that he doesn't remember his humanity once he shapeshifts, he's fully bear. So how exactly can we hold Arthur accountable for being dangerous and violent and killing Birdie as a bear? When he's human, he also acts dangerously, because he hasn't been socialised and his bear ways is all he knows and always has, plus he shows signs of not being normally developed intellectually. He's simply not responsible, so he can't be held accountable, and if Ivey wanted to "hold the tales accountable" as she claims, she shouldn't have chosen an animal to explore HUMAN violence.

It's such a basic idea I can't believe I'm writing this. How the fuck do you superimpose human to animal and try to hold the animal accountable? As an animal lover that has seen countless pets put down for behaviour their human owners are responsible for, I find this infinitely offensive, and also a tremendous insult to domestic violence survivors. The human owner is the bastard, but it's the dog that gets shot. The humans around Arthur are the bastards, even Birdie who "loves" him after only one month in the cabin, but it's the bear who gets to live in captivity for the rest of his life because, you know, he killed an utterly stupid waste of oxygen who provoked her own death.

Funny how the bear who doesn't remember his humanity and has no memories of being human when bear, suddenly develops a conscience and is remorseful for killing the idiot human and accepts his captivity meekly as punishment. He's not even cursed, he simply is a bear who can turn into a human because that's how he was born, but somehow he's responsible and not the humans? Just UNBELIEVABLE, and unbelievably convenient.

But that's Ivey's idea of "accountability," I suppose.

So, Marquise, is this even a good B&B story? No, it isn't. A bad retelling is still a retelling, unfortunately for me. And as I said, this does have the framework of B&B/Animal Bridegroom, which makes it a B&B story. Or "inspired" if you prefer that qualification. It started like that and ended up a mess, and Ivey wanted to retract once it was too late, the ink was already dry and the plot can't be walked back.

Honestly, this could've been a good story without the bear nonsense. It could've been a good exploration of domestic violence, child neglect, and the scars that it leaves and stay with survivors for the rest of their lives. I sympathise with Ivey wanting to exorcise the ghosts of her childhood trauma, I truly do, but the danger with authors writing themselves and their traumas into their books is that, when they use a fairy tale or a myth as a drawing board they tend to forget that such a drawing board isn't blank. It's better to not use the fairy tale or myth when you don't really understand it, because you'll be judged by those terms that you so unwisely set up.

But . . . even without the B&B aspect, and let's be generous and indulge those who say this isn't a retelling, the story is simply not good. The accountability aspect is what torpedoed it. Maybe if the whole book had been narrated by Emaleen alone, you could have interpreted this as a traumatised 6-year-old trying to deal with domestic violence and neglect through fantasising. Child psychologists know this phenomenon well, it's common enough. It could've been Emaleen's imagination that saw Arthur as a bear when the reality was that he was an abusive partner to her drunk mother, and that would've been perfectly fitting. But Ivey chose to make the bear shapeshifter real, not imaginary or hallucinated, and thus stripped accountability off both Arthur and Birdie to an extent, leaving Emaleen to pay the consequences for the rest of her life with trauma.

There's no magical realism in this book, besides the bear shapeshifting there's absolutely nothing magical, so I'm not sure why that would be a label either. The existence and nature of bear-humans aren't explained either, they simply exist, and for some reason this grizzly bear is a giant blond white as a human, which makes as much sense as a panda shapeshifting into a redheaded Irish. The Grizzly is native to North America, and it's the indigenous people's culture that has them in their tales and folklore, so why give it to a blond white Anglo-Saxon, I wonder? Who knows, so much of this book is messy.

And the positive thing, Marquise? The setting. Or atmosphere, if you prefer. Ivey does know Alaska well and brings it to life quite vividly in all its wild and beautiful glory. Sure, prettily described settings don't make a good story by themselves, especially when they're romanticised by city dwellers that would likely cry at the lack of phones. Or be eaten by a Grizzly themselves.

[Rosh ~catching up slowly~ · Rating 4 out of 5]

In a Nutshell: An poignant literary fiction set in Alaska. Haunting plot, flawed characters, atmospheric writing, intense emotions, slow pace, magical realism. Not a ‘Beauty & the Beast’ retelling as some sources claim. Much recommended but not to those who prefer likeable/perfect characters.

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Plot Preview:

Twenty-six-year-old Birdie is a single mother to six-year-old Emaleen. Her waitressing job in an Alaskan lodge helps them survive, and the lodge owner even allows Birdie to live with Emaleen in one of the cabins. But while Birdie loves her daughter, she still has a reckless side to her that makes her yearn for more wild adventures. When Arthur, a local recluse who barely speaks to anyone, brings Emaleen back to safety when she goes wandering into the woods one day, Birdie finds a new hero, and a new dream. Ignoring the advice of those around her, Birdie decides to move along with Emaleen into Arthur’s isolated cabin atop the mountains alongside the Wolverine river. With just the three of them living in a small and shabby wooden cabin with no indoor plumbing or electricity, things are tough, but Birdie is determined to make this new part of her life work.
The story comes to us in the third person perspective of Birdie, Emaleen, and Warren – Arthur’s father.

First things first. Merely having a pretty woman and a physically-unattractive man in a romantic relationship doesn’t make a story the retelling of ‘Beauty and the Beast.’ An NYT article states: “In an author’s note, Ivey cites “Beauty and the Beast” and “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” as inspirations.” My copy doesn’t have the author’s note, but even if I believe NYT’s report, “inspiration” doesn’t equate to “retelling”. It will be unfair to the book if readers pick it up expecting either of these fairy tales and then bash it for not being an accurate retelling. So please get that idea out of your head. This is NOT a retelling and bears only a minor point in common with both those fairy tales.

I have kept my review spoiler-free as usual. This book is best discovered by going in blind.


Bookish Yays:
🏔️ Emaleen – this little one won my heart! I wish I could jump into the book and rescue her from the adults in her life. I felt like crying for her so many times, but she herself hardly cried. Among the best child characters of all time!

🏔️ The child's voice is so authentic! Love it when authors write children in an age-appropriate manner.

🏔️ Arthur. I don’t know what to say about him. But this book wouldn’t be *this book* without Arthur. What a character!

🏔️ The choice of the three narrators. Perfect! Each sounds their age and represents their character’s personality excellently, even though the narration is in third person. Warren’s perspective is the most poignant.

🏔️ The secondary characters, especially Della, Syd, and Carol, are also memorable in their limited roles.

🏔️ The magical realism! I had forgotten to expect it, and was surprised when it popped up. The first scene containing this is so subtle that you'll miss it if you are speed-reading. The whole concept is intelligent as well as imaginative!

🏔️ While the pacing is generally on the slow-ish side, which is quite common in literary fiction, this book kept me on my toes. It takes its time to get going, but once we know what we know, the whole situation creates interest as well as dread.

🏔️ Love how the plot plays on the typical fears of people and uses these to heighten the tension. Even something as routine as a child’s alarm over a parent who hasn’t returned by the promised time is written in a gripping manner.

🏔️ The Alaskan setting is brought to life by the author’s words. Her being a native of Alaska helps!

🏔️ ‘Haunting’ and ‘atmospheric’ aren’t words you will see me use often, but this book has both those attributes in plenty. I am going to have a book hangover for many days now.


Bookish Mixed Bags:
🐻 Birdie: not an ideal mother in any sense, but her shortcomings are written in a way that make you frustrated, and at times, even annoyed with her decisions. It’s not easy to write such a flawed character impactfully, but the author manages it to a great extent. But the heart being what it is, I wish I could have connected better with Birdie. Though I rooted for her in the tough scenes, I couldn’t relate to her wild side.

🐻 The relationship between Birdie and Arthur was a bit too instantaneous. But considering Birdie’s personality, I guess it does make sense for things to zoom from zero to hundred that quickly.

🐻 The book is divided into three parts. The third part involves a time-jump, which left me with a couple of questions about the interim period. I still loved all the three parts; I just wish the gaps had been clarified.


Bookish Nays:
❄️ The ending is a bit abrupt. It might be a fitting finish to such a story, but I wanted more, much more.


Overall, this is the kind of book you cannot race through. It offers plenty of thought-provoking content through its characters and their flawed choices, the remote Alaskan wilderness and its denizens, and of course, the magical realism bits that seem utterly real. I relished the writing, the characters as well as the plot. Though the pacing was slower, the storytelling style and the emotional intensity of the events bowled me over.

This is my first book by Eowyn Ivey, and I am officially a fan of her writing now.

Much recommended to literary fiction lovers who have a taste for magical realism with a touch of the wild. Do yourself a favour and don’t read this as a fairy tale retelling. Not for those who want likeable characters and straightforward plots.

4.25 stars.


My thanks to Headline and Tinder Press for providing the DRC of “Black Woods, Blue Sky” via NetGalley. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.


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[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another winning read for me, by the Alaskan author Eowyn Ivey, author of one of my very favorite books..The Snow Child!
Geez, I don’t even know how to describe the book without giving anything away.
There is some magical realism … but in a fairy tale way… and it’s not over the top, this author knows how to do it just right.
Set in Alaska… Birdie is a young single mother who is struggling to make ends meet while raising her six year old daughter.
She is living in a room by a bar that she works at near the woods. She meets a quiet man who comes in the bar, sits by his self and orders chamomile tea.. he speaks all in the present tense.
He lives up in a cabin up in the mountains that was owned by his parents.
After spending some time with Arthur, she starts to dream of getting away and to take her daughter and go live in that cabin with Arthur. They go…
It’s different up there, no electricity, running water, etc.
Arthur is also different, just read this and see!

Thank you to NetGalley and Random House for the ARC

[Canadian Jen]

Unfortunately, I'm abandoning this one. The chapters told from the child's perspective are annoying and the whole fairytale thing just isn't my cuppa. I'm definitely not the reader for this one! I will read The Snow Childas I've only read positive reviews from my trusted GR friends.

[Norma ~ The Sisters · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Haunting Journey Into the Heart of Wilderness and Love

Black Woods, Blue Sky by Eowyn Ivey is a novel that doesn’t just tell a story—it immerses you in a world that feels raw and alive. Ivey’s prose captures the Alaskan wilderness in all its beauty and brutality. The sharp tang of pine, the icy rush of rivers, and the vastness of untouched land—it all feels so vivid that you’re not just reading; you’re there, breathing it in.

The emotional pull of the story is what left the deepest impression. At first, Birdie’s relationship with her daughter, Emaleen, isn’t what we typically see as a mother-daughter bond. At times, it even seems uncaring, yet it ultimately reveals a deep well of care and connection—a lifeline through the book’s darker undercurrents, built on resilience and, most importantly, love. And Emaleen—oh, she’s unforgettable. Her voice was so pure and unwavering that she became the emotional anchor of the story for me, someone I couldn’t help but root for.

Near the end, the story took a turn that unsettled me in unexpected ways. It pulled me out of my comfort zone, urging me to sit with uncertainty and reflect deeply on what the characters were experiencing. Arthur’s character brought me emotional turmoil in ways I didn’t anticipate—he was so complex, and I cared deeply for him even as his presence stirred up feelings I’m still untangling. As the narrative unfolded, I realized just how much love, in all its forms, anchored the journey. By the final pages, I felt a quiet sense of contentment—not because everything was resolved, but because the story had stayed true to itself, leaving a lasting emotional resonance.

Ultimately, Black Woods, Blue Sky is a story that lingers, asking you to confront the tension between freedom and connection, survival and sacrifice. It’s not an easy read, but it’s a deeply rewarding one. By the end, I felt both shaken and moved—changed, in ways I’m still unpacking.

*A wonderful Witches Words read that I had the pleasure of buddy reading with Brenda, Carolyn, and Debra. Be sure to check out their reviews!

[switterbug (Betsey) · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a kid, I dismissed fairytales because I couldn’t relate to them. No prince was ever going to slide my Flintstone feet into glass slippers. Nope, never going to happen. Then I discovered Fractured Fairy Tales and understood. Black Woods is a fractured fairy tale without the parody. If you had told me I would love a relatively thick-sized parable sans the satire, I’d laugh. But being an early reader offered me space to savor this loose inspiration of Beauty and the Beast, of Goldilocks and Red Riding Hood, and perhaps other fables that, at the moment, escape me. It’s a tale of isolation, origin, coming of age, parents and children.

The reader doesn’t get to know everything that the characters undergo. Arthur, the lonely one and second to the main character, knows more than the reader about the fractures of his family and of course his own origin. It’s a secret that threatens to destroy a family. Well, it almost destroyed me, also.

Birdie and her four-year-old daughter, Emaleen, have made it on their own all these years in Alaska. Then Arthur shows up to rescue Emaleen when she gets lost in the woods and brings her back to Birdie. The relationship between Birdie and Arthur grows, and the three become a unit, a small happy family living out in the wild, berry picking and catching fish. They depend on getting supplies from Arthur’s dad, Warren, who regularly flies his plane to Arthur’s cabin with replenishments.

BWBS takes a few unexpected turns that made me come undone; the narrative kinetics gradually shift the mood from fairy tale magic to unhinged suspense. I thought the story was moving in one direction, and then abrupt events pulled me out of my complacency. This is all I want to say about that.

The Alaskan wilderness explodes onto every page, and I was often lost in the charm, the flora and fauna of its rural beauty. Ivey takes her sweet time advancing the plot and revealing the crux of her story. As I started the last section (the last 60 pages), I was in a dark and dire place, my pulse racing and my throat closing while my legs crumbled to dust and I was blown away.

I’m not sure if I even realistically suggested what this book is about. I don’t want to do spoilers, so I’ll say that this will appeal to readers who enjoy fables with a twist and a nature-saturated setting. If you like allegory and wilderness beauty, you will enjoy this. Expect the unexpected.

If you haven’t read The Snow Child, an earlier book, you’re in for a treat! Eowyn Ivey has a magnificent imagination. And it is here on every page. My only and minor critique was that the denouement and ending were a bit dilatory, it could have been a bit more succinct without losing its power. And powerful it is, a novel that is still haunting me, days later.

“From this height, the impressive Wolverine River looked like a small creek, and on the other side she saw the barest glints of metal that had to be the roofs of the lodge and cabins…[s]he had the sensation of slipping out of herself, of inhabiting both places at once—sitting on the picnic table and imagining what it would be like to stand on this mountain ridge, and also standing here and looking down at her old life, and it was as if she soared, breathless and thrilled, in the blue sky between the two.”

Thank you to Penguin Random House books for sending me a galley for review.

[Debra - can't post any comments on site today grrr · Rating 5 out of 5]

WOWZA! Black Woods, Blue Sky was an enthralling, thought provoking, and emotion evoking book. I love Eowyn Ivey's writing, her descriptions, her use of nature, and the Alaskan setting. I marveled at how she showcases both the beauty and harshness of nature. Black Woods, Blue Sky contains love, beauty, loss, heart, soul, acceptance, tragedy, and nature. For me this book was about both love and transformation. It shows how those we let into our lives change us and alter our lives forever. This book also depicts many forms of love - the love of a mother for her daughter, the love of a couple for a young boy who they come to love and raise, the love of nature, and romantic love.

Birdie is barely keeping it together in the beginning of this book. She is a single mother who must bring Emaleen, her daughter, to work with her. Birdie longs for a better life for her and her daughter and has happy memories of when she lived in nature as a child. When Arthur Neilsen finds Emaleen after she gets lost in the woods, Birdie finds herself falling for the soft-spoken recluse. Soon she and Emaleen move to Arthur’s isolated cabin deep in the woods. Being with Arthur, living off the land, and exploring the mountain is like a dream, a fairy tale in fact. But dreams can become nightmares!

What an emotional pull this book had for this reviewer. I felt for all the characters and had sympathy and empathy for all of them. Emaleen stole the show for me with her innocence and acceptance. My heart broke for Warren, and I wanted to give him a hug many times while reading this book. I appreciated how the author showed both the beauty and tragedy of loving someone. This book also touches on nature vs. nurture, instincts, and consequences. There was such beauty, love, isolation, and tragedy in this book.

As with all of her books, Black Woods, Blue Sky was beautifully written and transported me to a different world. I fell for all the characters hook line and sinker. Life is not a fairy tale no matter how much we want it to be.

4.5 stars

*This was a fabulous Witches Words buddy read with Carolyn, Norma and Brenda. We had an amazing discussion and I urge you to check out their wonderful reviews to get their thoughts on this book.


Thank you to Random House Publishing Group and NetGalley who provided me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. All the thoughts and opinions are my own.

Read more of my reviews at www.openbookposts.com 📖

[Angela M · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m not sure what I can say except this just wasn’t for me . The writing is beautiful in many places . Atmospheric sometimes is an overused word, but it’s just so appropriate in this case . Ivey knows how to take the reader directly to the Alaskan wilderness she writes about . However , I wasn’t as taken by this one as much as The Snow Child and To The Bright Edge of the World.

While I could sympathize to a certain extent with Birdie, a single mother trying to make ends meet and provide for her 6 year old daughter Emaleen, Birdie is irresponsible putting her daughter in danger, both in the Lodge where she lives and works at a bar and when she moves to a remote area in the mountains to be free and away from everything with a strange man she too quickly falls in love with.

Described as a reimagined Beauty and the Beast, it certainly has tones of fable or fairytale. I appreciate Ivey’s writing but I wasn’t the right reader for this kind of story . I have to admit that it held my interest enough to find out what happens and to discover what Arthur’s past was about .

I received a copy of this book from Random House through NetGalley and Edelweiss.

[Vicki Herbert - Vacation until Jan 2 · Rating 2 out of 5]

You'll Have to
Bear With the Plot...

BLACK WOODS, BLUE SKY: A Novel
by Eowyn Ivey

2 stars. SPOILERS AHEAD (I will give plenty of warning when you get to them)...

Suffering a ferocious liquor and cocaine hangover, Rebecca Josephine Finney (Birdy) slipped out of her rental cabin to go fishing...

While her six year old daughter slept on...

Hours later...

She was returning with a trout she caught for breakfast when she ran across Arthur Neilsen on his way to the creek...

Arthur lived alone in a cabin on the North Fork of the Wolverine River. He was in Alpine visiting his father...

Arthur and Birdy quickly became strange lovers, and impulsively, Birdy decided to take her daughter and move into Arthur's cabin...

No phone lines, no neighbors. Twenty miles away from Alpine. Acres and acres of wilderness. No running water or electricity. A wreck of a cabin...

The people of Alpine knew Arthur as the Barefoot Wanderer, the Four-Legged Man, the Golden Friend, Honey-Eater, and...

A Dark Thing...

No one wanted to summon him with his real name: Bear...

The belief was that it is a sin to kill a bear because it is Devine. A child of the moon. The Ursa Major...

You can see by my 2 star rating that I didn't like this story. Although I will read almost anything with Alaska as its setting, this was a frustrating novel on many levels about a single, irredeemable mother who constantly put her own needs above her child's. She was selfish, rude, and neglectful, making her extremely unlikable. The story POV alternates between Birdy and her daughter Emaleen.

******************************************

SPOILER ALERT: This silly plot is about a man (Arthur) who is really a bear when he literally steps into his bear skin suit, complete with feet and claws, so if you can overlook this detail and the irresponsible mother of a six year old blundering through the story, maybe this book is for you. It was an exercise in the inane and boring for me, and I couldn't wait to be done with it.

[Caroline · Rating 2 out of 5]

***SPOILERS HIDDEN***

The first thing to know about Eowyn Ivey is that she’s Alaskan. She likes to make Alaska a character in her books. Black Woods Blue Sky especially feels like a homage to the state as she brought to life Alaskan landscapes, flora (often distractingly accompanied by formal scientific names), and fauna. The problem is, Black Woods Blue Sky is supposed to be a magical-realism story. However an author chooses to mix the magic and realism, one shouldn’t drastically outweigh the other. In this book realism drastically outweighs the magic, filling the story to bursting with hard Alaska, then going further to suck out any joy and lightness.

This is an unsophisticated work—although it didn’t have to be. The premise invites creative complexity and emotional depth, but Ivey was in a rush and didn’t want to imagine and explore. It revolves around three small-town Alaskans: a twentysomething restaurant server named Birdie; her talkative five-year-old daughter; and a stiff, barely communicative recluse named Arthur. There’s more to him than that, but only a few townspeople know what the “more” is; to most he’s simply a strange, lumbering guy from the woods.

This unappealing character and Birdie connect in a predictably tepid romance. Both are undeveloped as individuals, but particularly with Arthur, Ivey tried to fall back on an annoying romantic cliché: the quiet, brooding man whose air of mystery is supposed to make him automatically attractive. What she made instead, though, is worse: a male character who comes across as halfwitted, bordering on jerky. If Arthur is supposed to be swoon-worthy, Ivey’s first mistake was making him speak sparingly and in present-tense only. His speech oddities exist for a valid reason, but they don’t work in a romantic figure because they only dampen allure.

As is to be expected, this character provides little dialogue, and no dialogue that would reveal a complex (and complicated, given his secret) man beneath the odd exterior. Birdie is a cliché herself, merely airheaded and naïve, a sociable woman who likes to party, drink, and occasionally abuse drugs. Her backstory contains psychological trauma, but it’s a few factual sentences, devoid of the feeling that would also reveal a fuller character. Readers can’t be too interested in these characters, and the coupling is wildly unrealistic and lacking true love. A real-life Birdie would dismiss Arthur as the town weirdo, and he’d contentedly ignore everyone. That reality is too glaring for Ivey to be able to sell this romance.

After Birdie and her daughter move to Arthur’s remote cabin, they live off the grid in pure isolated bliss—another reality Ivey couldn’t sell. Hard-partying people-lover Birdie never once complains or yearns for her previous life. But more unrealistically, her child doesn’t complain, leading me to think that the author’s experience raising two children in Alaska left her with a romanticized, even spiritual, view of living close to nature. Although her daughters may have grown up in Alaska happily, they did so with a life that married off-the-grid–type inconveniences with modern conveniences. Raising a child off the grid is another reality entirely. Romanticization of the socially isolated, medically isolated, spartan life of this little girl makes the book impossible to truly love; one can easily argue that forcing a dependent to live off the grid is abusive.

Fans of The Snow Child may have a hard time believing Black Woods Blue Sky is by the same author. That earlier book has magic in its blood. The setting is a modest cabin often surrounded by feet of snow and battered by bitter winds, but the mood is shimmering snow globe. The strange “snow child” is charming and innocent. Ivey was patient in unfolding the story. It’s melancholic but so infused with wonder and dreaminess that the melancholy is more bittersweet than sad.

Black Woods Blue Sky is worlds different. The setting also features a modest cabin but without a cozy winter. Crucially, magical realism doesn’t envelope the whole story but is instead fully contained within Arthur, and it’s sinister. The plot is rushed and riddled with holes where complexity and nuance should be. One might assume those holes are because Ivey was impatient to get to show-stopping cinematic parts of the story: scenes featuring Arthur and his horrible secret—but she didn’t deliver once.

Many books tell awful tales without feeling awful in the reader’s core; the reader can effortlessly detach and not absorb. This one feels awful in the core. The characters’ off-the-grid life is physically dark, boring, and somber, not enchanted forest. Every scene in this life, even those that are supposed to read as joyous, is steeped in loneliness and unease—until near the end, when Black Woods Blue Sky descends into full-blown tragedy. Arthur’s persistent aloofness just depresses matters further.

Only Ivey’s beloved Alaska is crafted well. She was fiercely determined to educate readers about the struggles of real, raw Alaska, and her portrait of rugged Alaskan life comes from an intimate familiarity. For protection against grizzlies and other animals that can attack, Ivey’s characters never leave home without first slinging a rifle over their shoulder; they swat at mosquitoes; they chop wood; they haul water; and they fish, hunt, and harvest. Ivey knows she’s talented at portraying the state, and she does summon pretty visuals when she directs her energy that way. However, her attention to setting here is at the expense of everything else. She often got carried away, wasting so much ink on things that deserved just one or two sentences: descriptions of hiking, scenes showing the characters warding off bears (obviously meant to be a tip to readers), and facts about native flowers. All the practicality doesn’t just hog page space; importantly, it also clashes with the story’s bits of fantasy—emphasis on “bits.” Readers could probably forgive the Alaska-guidebook moments if Ivey had been generous with the fantasy.

People tend to associate magic with fun and awe, so the magical parts of magical realism have a certain rightness when they reinforce that association. Ivey spotlighted a gloomy reality so thoroughly that the warmth of a dramatic magical scene or two is required to temper it, not just to make the reader happy. The big-reveal moment in this book also begs for drama, though she disagreed. She under-developed the magic enough that this feels like realistic fiction that was forced to be magical realism.

[Brenda ~The Sisters~Book Witch · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lost in the Black Woods, Looking for Blue Skies

I love diving into the magic of a story’s themes—it’s like wandering through a witch’s garden, full of hidden meanings and untamed beauty, perfect for overthinkers like me. Rarely do I close a book without uncovering its deeper roots. But with this one? It felt like stumbling through black woods, searching for blue skies that never quite broke through the shadows.

A Fairy Tale That’s Anything But Familiar

It’s marketed as a dark fairy tale, and my witchy heart was all in. Somehow, I convinced myself it was a Beauty and the Beast retelling, and I was excited to see how it would unfold. Spoiler: it’s not. It’s something darker, wilder—more a tragic love story a dance between humanity and nature. The themes were intriguing, but I found myself lost, in the dark woods hoping for blue skies.

The Magic Beneath the Shadows

There is magic buried deep within its themes, but it stayed hidden, refusing to bloom fully for me. To make sense of it, I turned to my coven of witches—fellow readers in a buddy read. With their insights, I uncovered some of the story’s intent, but even then, it felt more like a lesson drawn from darkness than a balance between light and shadow.

Words Like Sunshine Through Shadows

If there’s one undeniable spell this book casts, the writing is magical—stunning, even. The author’s description of those dark woods felt like sunshine breaking through clouds, a stark contrast to the shadows within the story itself.

Lost in the Darkness

Black Woods, Blue Skies is an atmospheric journey, no doubt, but one that left me yearning for more clarity in its themes. While I couldn’t quite find my way out of the gloom, the beauty of the prose kept me captivated.

For those who love their fairy tales dark and with a lesson to learn this might be a magical fit. For me, it was a journey I’m glad I took, but one I wish had more light to guide the way.

This was a Witches’ Words buddy read with Norma, Carolyn and Debra, and let me tell you, I had so many questions for my fellow witches! Thankfully, after our discussion, I got the answers I was searching for—magic really does happen when witches come together. 🖤✨

Be sure to check out their reviews too; it’s always fascinating to see how our cauldron of thoughts bubbled up differently!

I received a copy from the publisher through NetGalley

[Hannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Have never read anything quite like this. It was beautifully written, and it was evocative. I was angered, horrified, sad, conflicted, and ultimately, incredulous.

Lesson #1 is for all dog owners who refuse to leash their pets. I’ve heard them say, “This is an open field,” “My dog is safe,” and other excuses. They may all be true, but they are still animals and will still default to their instincts. We are unable to read their minds or hearts, or understand their fears or other motivating factors. It’s not up to us to determine how their dogs will react under any set of circumstances. I had a friend whose most docile dog bit off part of her finger because she was so spooked by multiple things happening at once, none of which would’ve alarmed the dog under any other circumstances had they not happened simultaneously. So please always leash your dogs in public, because it’s the law, the right thing to do, and the loving and protective thing to do for you, your neighbors/community, and your dog.

Lesson #2 is that anyone can be forgiven? I’m not sure about that. There was a lot of culpability to go around, and the only one who actually was innocent was the only one who didn’t need forgiveness.

Lesson #3 is to speak plainly. It’s clear that Birdie and Emealine might’ve been saved a lot of hardship and grief if even just one person had been truthful with them from the start.

These are what stood out to me. I’m sure there are more. This book was brilliant.

[Donna · Rating 2 out of 5]

I couldn't get past my dislike of Bìrdie.

[Jill · Rating 5 out of 5]

Can the author of The Snow Child, one of my all-time favorite contemporary books – filled with astounding power and haunting magic – strike pay dirt twice? The answer is most assuredly yes! There are over three months left in the year, and I have already read my first Top Ten book for next year.

Like the Snow Child, Black Woods Blue Sky is an ode to taking chances, trusting our imagination, and eschewing sorrow and remorse in favor of love and adventure. It’s a reminder that there’s childlike magic in this world and it’s also a hymn to the human spirit.

Eowyn Ivey says she wanted to transform her childhood fears into something more meaningful and mythical and wow, does she succeed. The story focuses on six-year-old Emaleen, an imaginative and fanciful child, raised by a well-meaning but emotionally damaged single mother, Birdie, who craves something she cannot name. When Birdie meets Arthur Neilsen, a scarred and quixotic recluse who only speaks in the present tense, she takes Emaleen to live with him in his isolated and primitive cabin in the mountains.

But Arthur is harboring a dangerous secret. He is not what he appears to be. Getting close to him is like touching something dark and wild and watching it dart away. And then there are Arthur’s mysterious disappearances.

Is he what Emaleen suspects, or is her imagination working overtime? There are just enough details to convince us that Emaleen’s conclusion is correct – particularly when collaborated with what we learn from Arthur’s father – and we willingly allow Ms. Ivey to lead us where she wants us to go. The book takes an unexpected and very dark turn midway through, reminding me of another favorite Alaskan author, David Vann. But as it progresses to its organic conclusion, its ending moved me to tears.

The book, among other things, is a love song to Alaska – the low sun, the brilliant magenta of fireweed blossoms, the dark green of the forest with its spruce and cottonwood and birch, the jagged snowy peaks. I’ve only been to Alaska once, but even so, I can recognize the authenticity of the descriptions and the intimacy with which this author embraces it.

Thank you, Eowyn Ivey, for writing such an innovative, magical, gritty, and universal book that so beautifully mines the connection between our human and animal sides. I loved it. And thanks, too, to Random House for giving me the privilege of reading such an outstanding work so early, in exchange for an honest review.

[Megan · Rating 1 out of 5]

*CONTAINS SPOILERS* I’ve never written a book review before, but I felt compelled to share my opinions on this one. I had read the synopsis prior to the book's release and was really looking forward to reading it. It sounded like it was right up my alley- wilderness, down-on-their-luck female protagonist, even some mystery, etc.

I’ve really never felt so conflicted about a book. On one hand, I did enjoy the setting, the descriptions of Alaska’s natural beauty and the bear mythos. However, it felt like there was more bad than good. Many parts felt extremely rushed; perhaps the book should have been longer so that things could have been more thoroughly explained- and yet, I probably wouldn’t have finished it if it was any longer than it already is. Because that wasn’t the book’s only problem. The characters were not fully fleshed out and most of them were extremely unlikable. And I’m all for unlikable characters, sometimes I think they’re unfairly maligned. This isn’t the case with this book- especially with Birdie. I’m usually a sucker for stories about flawed women who, despite their best intentions, still don’t get things right. But this is just not that. Birdie is blisteringly selfish and a downright neglectful mother. She often worries that people unfairly judge her for being a bad mom, but in this case, I think she actually is a bad mom. Sure she has her good moments, even the worst of us do, but that absolutely does not justify the rest of her actions. Uprooting her young daughter’s life to go live out some personal fantasy in the Alaskan wilderness? With the mysterious Arthur, who she barely knows? (A man who only speaks in the present tense?????) In a derelict, dirty cabin that doesn’t have running water or electricity? Where she finds several animal bones under the bed??? Being extremely underprepared for such remote living? Seemingly (based upon the descriptions) not having enough supplies, especially as winter approaches? Being many miles from civilization, with no way to contact the outside world? Their only connection to civilization being a guy with a plane who flies out more supplies on an apparently random, irregular basis?

Before Birdie learns about Arthur's true identity, she puts up with his bizarre behavior- like when he
randomly disappears, sometimes even in the middle of their conversations, to go roughing it in the woods for many days without any supplies???? Hello????? What??? When Birdie finds out that Arthur is really a bear and he disappears again to go do his bear thing, she becomes despondent and essentially abandons her six year old daughter so that she can keep tabs on him. Birdie stops feeding her daughter, won’t light fires in the woodstove to keep them warm (because it will scare Arthur???), leaves her for hours at a time to go on these dangerous Arthur recon missions, or sometimes even brings her along…. I mean what??? I take no issue with the whole ~Arthur is actually a bear~ thing, I honestly found that element to be very intriguing (even though it was not adequately explained). What I do have an issue with is Birdie’s neglect of her daughter, it’s totally unforgivable. Yes I get it, Birdie’s mom was awful and abandoned her when she was a child, but that does not excuse her behavior. I hate to say it, but I honestly felt that Birdie’s untimely death was deserved.

It’s like someone read The Great Alone and decided to poorly rewrite it and add a mythological “fairy tale” component to it.

I was hoping that the third act would redeem this book but it did not and I don’t have anything else to say about it. I honestly can’t believe I even wrote this much about it, but I’ve just never felt so annoyed with a book or fictional characters before. I'm sorry for the harsh review, but this just isn't it.

[emilybookedup · Rating 2 out of 5]

i don’t think this was for me 😅 i wish i DNF but kept going to the point where there was no return and i simply had to see how it ended.

if you liked SHARK HEART, you’ll like this. but it’s more…transformative and realistic let’s just say.

i was wanting more magical realism than we got. and i thought how the mom behaved was extremely wild… to put her child through that and in potential harm??? i also needed some more backstory on Arthur. why?!!!! how??? what??!!!?!

it’s hard to say more without spoiling... but if you’ve read this, PLEASE talk with me about it 🙃

anyways. the overall writing was good and i’d read the author again, but the content/plot was ultimately not for me!

thanks to PRH Audio for the gifted ALC. i likely would not have finished if it wasn’t for the good narration!

[Flo · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can't tell if the restraint of this book is a choice or a limitation. However, I'm pretty sure that this Beauty and the Beast-inspired novel, set in Alaska (with a bear as the 'beast'), is too long for what it offers. There are some interesting changes in the second half, but I didn't feel that the author managed to build up the story for those moments. Instead, it seems like she was struggling to meet a page count set by her publisher.

[Judy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having read The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey and loving it, I had to pick this book up as soon as I saw it. Once again the lyrical prose pulled be in to an entrancing fantasy tale set in Alaska. This is a reimagining of Beauty and the Beast, only it seems darker to me certainly than the Disney version.

Description:
Birdie’s keeping it together, of course she is. So she's a little hungover sometimes on her shifts, and she has to bring her daughter Emaleen to work while she waits tables at an Alaskan roadside lodge, but it's a tough town to be a single mother, and Emaleen never goes hungry.

Arthur Neilsen is a soft-spoken recluse, with scars across his face, who brings Emaleen back to safety when she gets lost in the woods one day. He speaks with a strange cadence, appears in town only at the change of seasons, and is avoided by most people. But to Birdie he represents everything she’s ever longed for. He lives in a cabin in the mountains on the far side of the Wolverine River and tells Birdie about the caribou, marmots and wild sheep that share his untamed world. She falls in love with him and the land he knows so well. Against the warnings of those who care about her, Birdie moves to his isolated cabin.

She and her daughter are alone with Arthur in a vast wilderness, hundreds of miles from roads, telephones, electricity, or outside contact, but Birdie believes she has come prepared. She can start a fire and cook on a wood stove. She has her rifle and fishing rod. But soon Birdie realizes she is not prepared for what lies ahead.

My Thoughts:
The book read like a fairy tale. The beauty of the Alaskan wilderness is protrayed so well that I felt like I was seeing it. Parts of the story are filled with joy, but others with darkness and loss. Emaleen ws so young that when she was older she had trouble remembering all that had happened and some of it felt dreamlike. There are themes of love, as well as coming of aging and finding out who you are and how you want to live. I found elements of both fairy-tale magic and mystery and suspense. This book will appeal to those who like fantasy or magical realism.

Thanks to Random House through Netgalley for an advance copy.

[Cheri · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is something about the way that Eowyn Ivey writes that pulls me into her stories without ever questioning the somewhat different, if not outright strange, events that seem improbable, or impossible. Still, her characters seem believable, and when things seem to be a bit strange, just wait.

Black Woods, Blue Sky revolves, at least initially, around a mother who has a relatively young daughter, and no one else to care for her, but she still needs to work. And so Emaleen, her daughter, is on her own during those hours, which leads to an event that has her mother decide that she will leave her job and they will move to a more remote place.

There’s a lot in this story that seems to be a bit out of the ordinary, and as the years pass, perhaps even a bit stranger, but Emaleen seems to believe so strongly in those who she loves, that love will somehow conquer the strangeness.

There’s a lot of beautiful writing, as well as a love story that isn’t the kind of love story that you might expect, but this does explore the difference between what we want to believe, and the truth.


Pub Date: Feb 04 2025


Many thanks for the opportunity to read this engaging story by one of my favourite authors!

[Cam (Lana Belova)]

Oooooh! Yay! Another book from the author of "The Snow Child", which I loved but felt ambiguously about its ending - interpreting its meaning in several different ways... Anyway, that story was beautiful and the scenery was fantastic. The writing style unlike any other, beautiful and touching. It's great we don't have to wait too long and hope we have this book here!

[Paige · Rating 3 out of 5]

all that for a really mediocre man

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

First and foremost, a large thank you to NetGalley, Eowyn Ivey, and Random House Publishing Group for providing me with a copy of this publication, which allows me to provide you with an unbiased review.

Having discovered the work of Eowyn Ivey a few years ago, I was eager to see a new publication of hers to read. In this story, a loose, modern interpretation of Beauty and the Beast, the reader learns about Birdie and her zest for life, fuelled by a carefree nature. Birdie and her daughter, Emaleen, meet Arthur, a man who comes with a history and who is not loved by anyone else around town. There’s something about him that Birdie cannot ignore, though it is possibly against her better judgment and the warning signs others have put out there to protect her. Ivey delivers a great story that keeps the reader hooked!

Birdie has found a way to keep everything going well, at least as best she can. As a single mother in a small Alaskan community, there will be blips along the way, but her daughter, Emaleen is always fed, enjoys the adventure of the wilderness, and no one’s gone up in flames…yet!

When Birdie meets Arthur, she realises he is her polar opposite. He’s quiet, keeps to himself, and has a number of life wounds that come with stories for everyone to enjoy. When Emaleen goes missing one day, it’s Arthur who finds the little girl and brings her back to a panicked Birdie. He finds himself loving the distance he puts between himself and others around town.

This is just the sort of man Birdie has longed to find. His isolated cabin in the woods is a place she and Emaleen can enjoy while leaving the chaos of town in the rear view mirror. Arthur teaches about the wilderness and seems keen to allow Birdie into his life, albeit with a few unspoken rules. While many warn Birdie about Arthur and his ways, she brings Emaleen to the cabin to live and hopes for the best.

While things seem to be going well, Birdie is always eager to see what the next day will bring. Emaleen appears to love Arthur as well, showing him affection only a child could conjure up for such a man. As the days go on, Birdie’s dream of this great life takes a turn and she cannot tell how to interpret it all. Birdie has a choice to make and a daughter to protect. Is Arthur the great man she thought or has she been ignoring the warning signs others have put out there? Eowyn Ivey spins this great story and keeps the reader thinking until the final page turn.

I have read a few books by Eowyn Ivey and never been disappointed. She had a way with words and keeps the reader in the middle of the action, no matter the events unfolding. The narrative has a unique flavour to it, partially from Ivey’s storytelling, but also the use of the Alaskan setting and its isolation. The story moves along well and keeps the reader in the middle of the action. Adding great characters, many of whom are developed with a keen eye towards how they will fit into the larger story, helps create an additional depth to things for all to enjoy. Plot points emerge from all sides of the story, mixing the traditional tale on which this novel is based with some modern interpretations. Eowyn Ivey creates a well-paced novel that is sure to impress many and could garner new fans for her work, especially amongst those who like something well off the beaten path.

Kudos, Madam Ivey, for a well-paced Alaskan story that ticks all the boxes.

Love/hate the review? An ever-growing collection of others appears at:
http://pecheyponderings.wordpress.com/

[Megan]

OMG. I've been waiting forever for another book from her!

And looks like I'll still be waiting for over a year...but the light at the end of the tunnel is visible!

[Melki · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is the most unpleasant fantasy novel I've ever read.

The constant child-endangerment scenes made me, to use a word from Donald Trump - (yes, that's how much this book disturbed me, I'm quoting Trump) - well, they made me a little yippy.

Birdie leaves her six-year-old daughter alone when she waits tables, or gets a hankering to go fishing. She leaves her standing alone in the remote Alaska wilderness so she can literally chase after a man. Throw in a bunch of nasty animal deaths, and you've got a novel that made me wish I was reading ANYTHING else.

I honestly could not wait for this one to end.

I'm very sorry I purchased this one for the library where I work.
Believe me, I will NOT be pushing it on my favorite patrons.

[Shelby (catching up on 2025 reviews) · Rating 5 out of 5]

BLACK WOODS, BLUE SKY by Eowyn Ivey

Thank you @prhaudio for my #gifted copy

*As I suggest going into this with as little information as possible, I'm not going to share too much about the plot. And I suggest not reading the synopsis or any reviews until you've finished.

Set in Alaska, Black Woods, Blue Sky follows Birdie, a young mother, and her six-year-old daughter, Emaleen. When Emaleen gets lost in the woods, she's rescued by the mysterious, reclusive Arthur, a man who only ventures into town with the turn of the season. When Birdie eventually falls for Arthur, she and Emaleen move to his cabin in the remote, Alaskan wilderness. But soon, the dangers of their new life become increasingly apparent.

Read if you like:
•Magical realism
•Gorgeous, lush writing
•Dark fairytales
•Atmospheric stories
•Isolated settings

Within the first few chapters, I predicted that this would be a five-star audiobook, and I was right. I absolutely loved it! Rebecca Lowman's performance is impeccable, as she beautifully and seamlessly alternates between mother and daughter perspectives. Ivey's writing is masterful and captivating, evoking such a range of emotions. And her ability to write from a child's perspective is awe-inspiring. It felt so authentic and believable. This book is a work of art and I have no doubt it'll be a 2025 standout.

Highly, highly recommend!

📌 Available 2/4

[Kerry · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a great book for Mother's Day. It is both about a mother/child relationship and Mother Earth with some interesting thoughts on how man both interacts and tries to tame the wild in nature and what happens.
I vacillate between 4 and 5 stars. This is a easy to read story, not quite myth but has underpinnings of it and a most human story about desire and reality. A little vague I know but I am still feeling the weight of the words and how it will effect my view of the natural world all around me. It is a tale of Alaska, a single mother and her 6 year old daughter and the wild in nature and man. I won't say anymore than that. It will draw you in with its early romance and sunny summer days and all that we crave and desire in the beauty and mystery of nature. But be careful there is a deep forest ahead. 4.5 stars. For this reader it is Ivey's best and I will continue to read anything she writes.

[Connie G · Rating 4 out of 5]

Author Eowyn Ivey has written a dark fairy tale combining magical realism with the reality of the Alaskan wilderness. Birdie, a loving but sometimes neglectful single mother, is waitressing at the Wolverine Lodge. She gets acquainted with Arthur, a scarred man who spends a great amount of time in an isolated cabin in the mountains. Birdie is tempted by the wildness and freedom of a life in the woods, and moves there with her six-year-old daughter, Emeleen. She is surprised to discover that Arthur has a secret, a second nature that might pose a danger to them.

"Black Woods, Blue Sky" is a loose retelling of the "Beauty and the Beast" tale. Ivey is a wonderful storyteller and handles the supernatural well. Emaleen is seen as a child and again as a recent college graduate going back to visit Alaska. The book explores love, fear, memory, and forgiveness. This is a book of fantasy written as lovely literary fiction with gorgeous descriptions of the natural world. I've enjoyed reading three books authored by Eowyn Ivey, and hope she'll be writing another soon.

[Janette Walters]

Calling this one at 38%. DNF. I fell in love with Ivey’s, The Snow Child. But this one wasn’t going anywhere for me. And the magic I discovered in Snow Child couldn’t be recaptured here in Black Woods, Blue Sky. On to my other reads.