Mariella Hunt

Stories featuring female sleuths always have a particular charm. Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries has a specific enchantment to it: her career is dedicated to studying the fair folk, gathering information about them and seeking close encounters with them for the sake of research.

She is fearless and often reckless in her resolve to make contact with these faeries, which vary from the tiny pixies to beautiful but dangerous faerie kings. To her, every risk is worth taking, because she is writing a book—one in which she hopes to present her findings to the world and be lauded as the foremost name in faerie lore and study.

Her greatest nuisance, Wendell Bambleby, is an annoying source of logic and assistance, one that she cannot escape. He is eccentric and has a particular skill with a needle, mending the most hopelessly damaged bits of clothing into frocks worthy of queens. The letters he sends her have a peculiar feature of refusing to be destroyed, no matter what she does—almost as if they are charmed to be indestructible. And he has a way of finding her, no matter where she is, particularly if she is in a place where she does not want to be found.

Visiting a tiny village of the name Hrafnsvik, Emily struggles as usual to be understood by the suspicious townsfolk and make a favorable impression on them. She is there for the sole purpose of carrying out research, going for long walks in the snow and learning what she can from the ‘magical wildlife’ living there.

It was her plan to do all of these things alone, but of course, Bambleby is impossible to avoid. Soon he, also, is hauling his trunks of fripperies into the small cabin where she expects to spend a few weeks in study; soon he is doing research of his own, also on the topic of faeries, but in his own particular style: flirtation and charm.

Emily has a strong suspicion that Wendell Bambleby is one of the fair folk. She has noticed some very peculiar behaviors in him, including his ability to charm, the spells he seems to cast with ease when he thinks she is not looking, and the fact that he has knowledge regarding faeries that one would not be expected to possess unless he had been around them at some point. Bambleby’s input in the writing of her book is priceless, which is why Emily finds him to be such a nuisance. She can’t get rid of him if she needs him. And he knows all too well that she does.

During their visit to Hrafnsvik, they encounter many things, from changelings to a kidnapping to snows that make the simplest of tasks impossible to carry out. It’s not until Emily and Bambleby visit an ancient tree, one steeped in the oldest of faerie lore, that the real trouble begins. Emily, bewitched by a faerie that has been imprisoned to live in the tree, finds herself involved in a scheme by said faerie to free himself and once more trap the mortal world underneath his cold reign.

When Emily is taken by this faerie in form of thanks—thanks or a kidnapping?—she finds herself in a cold place where she has no notion of time. She knows nothing except that the faerie plans to marry her in order to thank her for having released him. Such a wedding would seal an eternal winter over the people of Hrafnsvik.

It’s one of those moments where Bambleby’s expertise and tracking skills would come in useful; can he find Emily and free her from the well-meaning but misguided faerie before it’s too late?

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries is a unique book written in the format of journal entries, some from Emily’s viewpoint, others from Bambleby’s. Footnotes at the end of each chapter provide additional context, creating a fully immersive world reminiscent of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell. I devoured this book in a day.

If you enjoy light reads, faeries, and strong world-building, I highly suggest that you give this book a try. When you do, comment and tell me: are you team Emily or Bambleby?

Buy it on Amazon here!