Isaac and Bellatine Yaga don’t know much about their heritage. A grandmother or great-grandmother came over from Russia, but that’s really about it. So when they receive word that they’ve inherited something from a relative in Ukraine, it comes as a total surprise. The inheritance also brings the siblings together for the first time in years. In Thistlefoot, the utterly amazing novel by GennaRose Nethercott, I found a modern fairy tale that balances enchanting magic and possibilities with ancient darkness.
Nethercott introduces us to Isaac first. Isaac is a rootless conman with an uncanny gift for mimicking anyone he sees, a boon given how often he has to disappear after lifting someone’s wallet. His sister, Bellatine, is fiercely determined to be completely normal. (We learn why later.) When they find out what their inheritance is—a charming sentient house that walks around on chicken legs—Isaac sees a chance to make enough money to set himself up while Bellatine finds a chance to make a real home for herself anywhere she wants. The siblings make a deal. Well, it’s more accurate to say that Isaac twists Bellatine’s arm to give her the house only after they go on tour performing puppet shows for a year. (They learned the art from their parents.)
Little do the pair know that the house isn’t the only thing arriving from Ukraine. Shortly after the house (dubbed Thistlefoot by Bellatine) arrives in America, a monster with the ability to inspire murderous hatred in anyone he meets also sets foot in the US. The Longshadow Man is one of the most frightening creatures I’ve seen in fiction for a while. I came to dread him as much as the characters, even though I was safely on this side of the pages. Isaac is the first to encounter the Longshadow Man. Thankfully, he also catches the eye of a woman warrior (part of a band of supernatural righters of wrong and also an actual band) who saves him from falling into the Man’s clutches. The acerbic Shona is the least astonishing ally the Yaga siblings pick up over the course of the novel.
While the Yagas play cat and mouse with the Longshadow Man, Thistlefoot slowly doles out little bits of its history. It frequently reminds us that any of its magical stories could be a lie while also pointing out the truth that stories carry with them, even if the details are fictitious. These stories blend with the stories the Yagas tell with their puppets, discoveries they make via research and dreams, or reluctantly cough up from their own pasts while they were apart from each other. For all the revelations in Thistlefoot, I was constantly struck by how much remained hidden either because a character wanted to keep secrets they found shameful from others or because a history or a tale just didn’t have anyone left alive to tell it anymore. Even though the stories are challenging, this book makes it clear that the price of not telling them is higher than the emotional impact of hearing them.
I made myself slow down while I read Thistlefoot because I didn’t want it to end. I loved it too much. I want more of the world and the characters Nethercott created. I strongly recommend this to lovers of contemporary fairy tales that have a dark bite in their pages.