Honeysuckle by Bar Fridman-Tell

I listened to Honeysuckle by Bar Fridman-Tell as an audiobook, and after finishing it I immediately ordered myself a physical copy of it. Honeysuckle is a dark fantasy reimagining of the Welsh myth of the Blodeuwedd, a girl fashioned from flowers. The myth originates from the famous medieval collection of Welsh tales, The Mabinogion.

The novel follows a young boy named Rory, and his older sister Wynne, who live out in the countryside. They essentially live alone, their parents off living their own lives, their housekeeper and tutor the only adults that the siblings really ever interact with. There is a palpable loneliness that runs through this book, felt from the very beginning when the isolated nature of the lives of these children is revealed. One day, fed up with Rory pestering her to play with him all the time, Wynne makes a Blodeuwedd as a playmate for him. Rory names the flower girl Daye, and she spends every waking moment that she can by Rory’s side. As they grow older, and as the lines between friendship and romance begin to blur, Daye is no longer sure what she wants. Or if she ever had any control over it in the first place.

This book is possibly the most beautiful and haunting allegory for a complicated, abusive relationship that I’ve ever read. The way it sensitively tackles themes of consent, coercion, autonomy, and identity is so quietly, yet unmistakably, powerful. The writing is so lyrical and entrancing, with sentences that made my heart swoon. The use of alliteration in this book really stood out to me. I’m glad that I listened to the audiobook, because the two narrators were amazing. It’s a book that is breathtaking to listen to because of how poetic it is, and I found it so immersive. I can’t wait to come back to this book and read the physical copy as well, to underline favorite passages and let the story sink in even deeper.

Daye, being made up of seasonal flora, must undergo transitions at the turn of each season, or else she’ll decay and fall apart. The types of flora used, and the intentions and words spoken during the weaving of a Blodeuwedd help to determine its nature. The way this act was described was both delicate and grotesque, two words that I think ultimately really encapsulate this novel.

This book made me so enraged and disturbed that I questioned if I was even enjoying it at times. I had to take breaks at certain parts that felt too visceral to listen to. I spent a lot of this book wincing, and much of it heartbroken and angry. But the further into it I got, and the further into Daye’s character the book delved, I began to realize just how important the story was becoming to me. The folktale-like imagery, the subtle and masterful writing, and where this story ultimately goes really blew me away. I’m very intrigued now in learning more about the original Welsh mythology that inspired this incredible debut, and to see how those myths interact with Honeysuckle. It’s definitely in the running for my favorite book of the year, because I keep finding myself thinking about it, over and over and over.