Two babies are found in the wilderness near a home for abandoned babies.
"Rey and I were found at foxlight. That's what Lissa tells us. Right at that very moment when quiet twilight met the dawn and the sun and the moon and the stars wove their own light together and the orange streaks of foxes could be seen brushing against the awakening sky. ... We were curled up small and quiet like question marks in a swirl of snow and orange fur and white teeth. Lissa nearly didn't see us because she wasn't looking for babies out there right at that wild untamed border."
Lissa is the gentle carer of young found children. Each of the other children has a story and each has been found with a note from their mother - all except Rey and her sister Fen (our narrator).
On Sunday nights Zaki, Alex, Jasmine, Alice, and Robin write letters to their mothers. Lisa has given each of these children a middle name that links with the time they were found but Fen and Rey were not found with a note or keepsake from their mother. It is Lissa who names them Fen and Rey but they feel desolate every Sunday evening because they have no one to write to.
Let's just take a minute to notice these prophetic names. Rey made me think of the folktale name Reynard. And with Fen I thought of the fennec fox.
To comfort themselves the girls have created a whole imaged world featuring their mother. Every night they tell each other stories. It is a game they call "Let's play imagine".
It seems a little bit trite to use this expression, but I thought of the words 'loose lips sink ships' when Rey and Fen overhear something said by an elderly man who visits to repair the broken fence after an attack by a fox who has killed one of their precious chickens.
"That blinking woman used to feed them, the wild one, no shoes, wandered the wildlands with the rest of those nutters."
"There was a group of them once, load of blinking barefooters. Wilders, they called themselves. Living out there ... they thought they could bring it all back to life. Those lands been dead longer than I've been alive. ... No one comes back from the wildlands."
Go back to the quote at the top of this post. The girls, especially Fen, believe the fox can lead them to their mother. This woman described by Marl surely is their mother. The believe their mother is waiting in the wilderness for them to return. Finding their mother will give them answers to all their life questions. Taking very few supplies they set off walking into the unknown.
This is such a different reading experience. The whole story has the feel of a fable. The name of the house hints at this:
"The house is called the Light House because it's the only flickering glow in a wild and empty land and everyone knows how to find it. Its light guides the mothers towards it so they can leave their babies safely."
The first night the sisters sleep outside and an animal, possibly the fox, ransacks their supplies. This broke my heart but then on the second night they find a small cabin. It has clearly been abandoned but it contains food, a can opener and a map! They discover that the wilderness contains many small houses or huts.
The pace of this story is also interesting. The girls make their journey to find their longed-for mother but, apart from daily survival, there is no real urgency to their journey. I'm sure you have noticed most stories involving a journey or a quest have a layer of time - a deadline - which moves the plot along with a sense of dread that time is running out. There is no real deadline here except the girls' desperate search for answers and for the mother of their imagining.
I also loved the way Katya Balen gave each girl a different personality - one quiet and contemplative and the other impetuous and boisterous. But then this changes and we see Rey express herself in an unexpected way. Fen finds herself alone. This was the part enjoyed because it was such an unexpected plot twist and because as twins these two girls feel like two parts of a whole. With one girl missing everything felt out of balance. I think I held my breath from pages 176 to page 212 (36 pages).
"I feel so small and alone. There is not second heartbeat, no quiet wild sister. We have never been apart for more than minutes. I keep opening my mouth to talk to empty air. It feels like I have been ripped in two and my edges are jagged."
The writing in this book is so atmospheric. It is also interesting to think about point of view in a first-person narrative. I'm not sure I would read this book to a group of students, but it would be a beautiful one to read aloud in a family or to put into the hands of an avid reader aged 10+ especially a reader who is looking for a gentle, emotional reading experience.
Author blurb: Fen and Rey were found curled up small and tight in the fiery fur of the foxes at the very edge of the wildlands. Fen is loud and fierce and free. She feels a connection to foxes and a calling from the wild that she's desperate to return to. Rey is quiet and shy and an expert on nature. She reads about the birds, feeds the lands and nurtures the world around her. They are twin sisters. Different and the same. Separate and connected. They will always have each other, even if they don't have a mother and don't know their beginning. But they do want answers. Answers to who their mother is and where she might be. What their story is and how it began. So when a fox appears late one night at the house, Fen and Rey see it as a sign - it's here to lead them to their truth, find their real family and fill the missing piece they have felt since they were born. But the wildlands are exactly that: wild. They are wicked and cruel and brutal and this journey will be harder and more life changing than either Fen or Rey ever imagined ...
Read October October also by Katya Balen.
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