Book Review: ‘The Wolf and The Woodsman’
A searing enemies-to-allies romance set against a backdrop of Jewish folklore, Hungarian history, and the brutal myths that build empires.
What It’s About (In My Own Words)
The Wolf and The Woodsman by Ava Reid
In Ava Reid’s haunting debut inspired by Hungarian history and Jewish folklore, a young pagan woman with no discernible magic, Évike, is cast out by her village and forced into a journey that begins as a sacrifice and turns into something else entirely. Her unlikely companion? Gáspár, a one-eyed captain of the king’s holy order and a man burdened by his faith, family, and a long list of moral quandaries. Together, they travel through a brutal, magic-infused land torn apart by religious persecution, nation-building propaganda, and gods who may—or may not—intervene. What follows is a grim and often brutal exploration of power, faith, and identity—as well as a slow-burn alliance between two characters who should be enemies.
This is a book I wanted to devour. And I probably would have—if I’d read it on my Kobo. The tiny font and marathon-length chapters made for slow reading, and the pacing didn’t help: the first half moves at a crawl. But looking back, it makes sense. Reid builds a world steeped in myth and politics, and she takes her time. What we get is dark, atmospheric fantasy with high emotional stakes. And you feel the cold, the rot, the weight of generations of violence. The forest is alive, the myths feel old and dangerous, and the way storytelling is used to manipulate reminded me just how political fantasy (and even romantic fantasy, like this one) can be when done right.
Reid doesn’t shy away from heavy themes: religious persecution, ethnic cleansing, weaponised mythology, and how stories—especially sacred ones—can be twisted into tools of power. It’s a brutal, unflinching look at how nations are built (spoiler: not with kindness). The world she’s created is steeped in tension between the Yehuli (a Jewish-coded people), the Patritians (Christian-coded), and pagans, with faith and magic functioning both as lifelines and battlegrounds.
As for Évike… She’s angry, raw, sometimes cruel, and often frustrating. (Honestly, I spent a lot of the book muttering “Girl, please.”) But she’s also a product of the trauma and rejection she’s faced, and Reid doesn’t ask us to like her—just to understand her. Still, I often wanted to shake her, especially in her interactions with Gáspár, the one-eyed captain. He’s gentle, principled, and (surprise!) not the monster she expected. Watching their relationship shift from hostile to hesitant to something almost tender was one of the most rewarding arcs.
There were elements I wish had been expanded, though. Gáspár’s experience as a mixed-race man in a rigid, religious state; Évike’s strained, tender relationship with her Yehuli father; the mechanics of the magic system (some pray and get power, others bleed for it—why?1). And while the second half is thrilling, the ending felt a little too neatly tied up for such a complex tale. And honestly? I wouldn’t have minded a sequel. There’s even enough political intrigue and lore here for a trilogy.
MOM BRAIN FILTER
The slow burn of this book is like those moments where I try to carve out time for myself between nursing sessions and baby cuddles—feeling like progress is taking longer than it should, but knowing I just have to stick with it. When Évike feels the weight of her responsibilities, I get it. The mental load of surviving in a world that seems to bend toward cruelty and exploitation? Yeah, that hits differently now. There’s also a lot of waiting in this story, which now makes me reflect on how much of life—and motherhood—is spent in anticipation, whether it’s for a breakthrough, a shift in perspective, or, in my case, some quiet.
READ IF YOU:
You love fantasy steeped in real history and folklore
You appreciate rich world-building and morally complex characters
You’re in the mood for slow-burn everything—plot, romance, personal growth
SKIP IF YOU:
You need fast pacing or short chapters to stay engaged
You get frustrated with abrasive protagonists
You're not in the mood for heavy themes (religious trauma, genocide, torture)
You get cranky when a book leaves some questions unanswered
⭐ RULING
The world Reid builds is gorgeous and complex, but the pacing and rushed ending leave me wanting more. It’s a book that will captivate you if you’re patient, but not without a few frustrating moments.
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YOUR TURN
Would love to hear what you thought if you've read this one, or if you have other Jewish folklore-inspired fantasy recs. Also, would love to know:
How do you feel about books that mix history with mythology—are you into that?
Do you prefer fast-paced action, or do you like a slow-burn world-building experience?
👇 Let’s talk.
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I found myself haunted by this—why must some bodies bleed while others are simply believed? Is it theology? Magic tax brackets? I need answers, Ava. The question lingers, unanswered but potent.
Fiquei curiosa 👀