Weyward by Emilia Hart

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INITIAL THOUGHTS

I picked up Weyward for the Downtown Colorado Springs book club. So many friends described it as haunting and healing at the same time, which is basically my catnip. I was in the mood for something atmospheric and moody with real bite, not fluff, and this delivered. From the first chapter I felt pulled into a tangle of ivy, candlelight, and women’s whispers. The writing is gorgeous and quick, the chapters are tight, and the three timelines braid together in a way that kept me turning pages. I did have to pause during the heavier scenes because abuse and misogyny are central conflicts here, but even with those breaks I was completely entranced. It felt like sitting by a fire while someone tells you the history of your own bones.

WHAT IT IS ABOUT

Weyward follows three women in three centuries, all bound to a crumbling cottage in Crows Beck and to a legacy that neighbors call witchcraft and the women call knowledge. Each woman, Altha in 1619, Violet in 1942, and Kate in 2019, discovers strength in the natural world and in one another’s stories.

MY REVIEW

Writing Style

Emilia Hart writes with that rare mix of lyricism and momentum. The language is lush without slowing the plot. I love when a historical novel respects your time. Chapters end on pivots that invite you to read just one more, then three. The prose is sensory and alive. You can feel the damp stones of the lane, smell crushed nettles on the skin, and hear wingbeats when crows rise in a dark flock. Nature in this book is a character and an archive. When Kate first reaches the cottage, the garden is not just overgrown, it is listening.

The rotational structure across three timelines is handled with reassuring clarity. Altha’s voice has the grounded cadence of a healer taking stock of what is on hand. Violet’s chapters are like a diary kept in a locked drawer, brittle and brave. Kate’s voice is modern and observant, a woman teaching herself to breathe again. The threads echo each other in satisfying ways, which makes the reading feel like uncovering a pattern rather than hopping between stories.

Hart is also skilled at strategic repetition. Lines recur like charms. “I am a Weyward, and wild inside,” appears early and then resonates each time one of the women makes a choice that defies the cage other people built for her. The effect is empowering without feeling tidy.

Themes & Messages

Weyward is about survival, and not the flat, lone-wolf kind. It is survival through lineage, friendship, chosen kin, and place. The book asks how misogyny mutates across time while the core remains the same. Altha’s England punishes women for their knowledge. Violet’s mid-century world polices their bodies and money. Kate’s present shows how intimate partner violence seeks to isolate and erase. The timelines let you feel the continuity and the change.

The other major theme is the bond between women and the natural world. Hart describes the Weyward magic not as wand-waving but as noticing. The women understand plants as medicine and warning, insects as tiny messengers, birds as sentinels and sometimes as protection. As the author notes in an interview, she wanted to “celebrate female power and resistance, as well as the solace that can be found in the natural world.” That shines in every timeline. There is also an undercurrent about bodily autonomy and choice. Violet’s storyline in particular puts a spotlight on what happens when the law and the people who hold power decide they own a woman’s body.

I also read the novel as a gentle manifesto for listening to elders and archives. The past speaks through journals, scratches on wood, pressed flowers, and the remembered routes through fields. The women literally learn from one another across centuries. It is a reminder that our lives are mosaics of the women who came before us.

Characters

Altha is a healer taught by her mother, a woman who understands plants so well the knowledge looks like magic to people who fear it. When a man dies in a cattle stampede, Altha ends up on trial because men in power, a doctor and a priest, need a scapegoat. I loved Altha’s steadiness. She is neither saint nor martyr. She is practical, observant, and quietly fierce. Even when the town turns on her, she keeps returning to what she knows: the body, the land, what heals.

Violet is a sheltered teenager in 1942, kept ignorant under the guise of protection. Her father erases the truth about her mother and controls every corner of the house and Violet’s future. What gutted me was Violet’s combination of naiveté and grit. She is the character who most clearly shows how knowledge can be both dangerous and liberating. As she discovers her mother’s story and Altha’s journal, she starts to write her own, even when the options available to her are unjust and cruel. The relationship with her brother, Graham, adds a warm thread of sibling loyalty.

Kate, in 2019, is the woman many readers will recognize. She flees an abusive partner and hides in a cottage she barely remembers. Watching her learn small skills, fix a leaking roof patch by patch, walk into the village for supplies, and finally trust herself again is one of the most rewarding character arcs I have read this year. She is not saved by a sudden twist. She is saved by patience, resourcefulness, and the slow accretion of courage. Her bond with the more-than-human world becomes literal protection when she needs it most.

Side characters matter. Emma’s estrangement and the town’s fear amplify the risk Altha faces. Frederick and the family doctor are chilling precisely because their violence and arrogance are plausible. Simon’s charisma makes him a believable abuser because he is personable in public and controlling in private. The point is not to create cartoon villains. The point is to show a spectrum of harm, from gossip to institutional power.

Vibes, Settings, and Tropes

The vibes are gothic cottage, candlelit rooms, creeping ivy, storm-lashed hills, crows on a stone wall, nettle tea cooling by a window, and dusty library books that smell like a secret. The atmosphere is rich and consistent. If you love the feeling of walking into an old house and knowing it remembers, this is for you.

The setting of Cumbria and the fictional Crows Beck are more than backdrops. Field paths, hedgerows, the hum of insects, a garden gone wild, a manor house with too many rules, a courtroom where women’s words weigh less than men’s suspicion. These places hold memory and agency.

Tropes and story elements you might love:

• Multi-timeline historical fiction
• Quiet magic that reads like folklore and botany
• Ancestral journals and family secrets
• Women rescuing themselves and one another
• Isolated cottage as sanctuary and teacher
• The natural world as an ally
• Found strength rather than a single savior

Favorite Quotes

“Witch. The word slithers from the mouth like a serpent, drips from the tongue as thick and black as tar. We never thought of ourselves as witches, my mother and I. For this was a word invented by men, a word that brings power to those that speak it, not those that it describes. A word that builds gallows and pyres, turns breathing women into corpses.”

“Weyward, they called us, when we would not submit, would not bend to their will. But we learned to wear the name with pride.”

“The physician spoke with confidence. He was a man, after all. He had no reason to think he would not be believed.”

What Worked For Me

• The prose sings without slipping into purple. I highlighted lines just for their beauty, then realized the line I kept coming back to was simple and perfect, “I am a Weyward, and wild inside.” It functions like a key to the whole book.
• The pacing is tight. I never felt stuck in one timeline, and the chapter lengths are in that zone that begs you to keep going.
• The sense of place is extraordinary. You could strip all the people out of these pages and still feel the cottage breathe.
• The intergenerational structure is cohesive. When Violet discovers the journal, it is not a gimmick. It is a living handoff. When Kate learns from the past, you feel the weight of that learning in her choices.
• The treatment of abuse and misogyny is unsparing but never exploitative. The book acknowledges harm while centering survival and agency.
• The natural magic feels earned. It is the culmination of observation and relationship rather than a trick pulled out of nowhere.

What Didn’t Work For Me

• Some antagonists felt a touch inevitable. A controlling father, a predatory relative, a smug doctor, an abusive boyfriend. They are realistic, but occasionally I wished for one unexpected ally in the places where power usually gathers.
• A few reveals can be spotted early if you read a lot in this genre. That did not ruin the experience for me because the pleasure here is in the how and the why, not the surprise.
• The heaviest scenes required me to set the book down to breathe. That is not a flaw in the writing, but it affects how quickly you might move through the story. If you are a sensitive reader, plan for gentler buffer reads or breaks.

Final Thoughts

Weyward is one of those novels that feels like it was written into your bloodstream. It is an ode to women who refused to be erased, to the patient work of healing, and to the living wisdom of the more-than-human world. I recommend it wholeheartedly for readers who love historical fiction with a touch of magic, for survivors looking for a story that respects the long arc from fear to freedom, and for anyone who believes that the past can speak to the present if we listen.

If you loved The Once and Future Witches, The Witch’s Heart, or The Paper Palace for the raw honesty about women’s lives, this belongs on your shelf. For me, this was a 5 out of 5 stars read, with spice at 0 out of 5 since intimacy is present mainly as context and consequence, not as a focus.

Let’s Talk

Which Weyward woman did you connect with most and why? Are you more of an Altha who trusts the plants first, a Violet who fights the house that tried to contain her, or a Kate who learns to claim quiet power?