Jedediah’s father walked out of his life forty years ago. Now he’s back. He won’t apologise, he doesn’t explain – and, impossibly, he hasn’t aged a day.
If you asked the folks of Gyrford, they’d tell you Jedediah Smith looked up to his father. After all, Corbie Mackem was the Sarsen Shepherd: the man who saved the Smith clan from Ab, the terrifyingly well-meaning fey who blighted a whole generation with unwanted gifts.
Corbie was a good fairy-smith. And if he wasn’t a good father, well, that isn’t something Jedediah likes to talk about. Especially since no one knows where Corbie’s body lies: the day of his son’s wedding, forty-odd years ago, he set off to travel and was never seen again.
These days Jedediah is a respectable elder, more concerned with his wayward grandson John than with his long-buried past, and he has other problems on his mind. There’s the preparations for Saint Clement’s Day, and the odd fact that birds all over the county have taken to hiding themselves, and the misbehaviour of Left-Lop the pig – which has grown vegetation all over its back, escaped its farm and taken to making personal remarks at folks in alarmingly alliterative verse.
But then disaster strikes. Ab is back. And Corbie, thought long dead, returns to Gyrford – younger than his son . . .
If you asked the folks of Gyrford, they’d tell you Jedediah Smith looked up to his father. After all, Corbie Mackem was the Sarsen Shepherd: the man who saved the Smith clan from Ab, the terrifyingly well-meaning fey who blighted a whole generation with unwanted gifts.
Corbie was a good fairy-smith. And if he wasn’t a good father, well, that isn’t something Jedediah likes to talk about. Especially since no one knows where Corbie’s body lies: the day of his son’s wedding, forty-odd years ago, he set off to travel and was never seen again.
These days Jedediah is a respectable elder, more concerned with his wayward grandson John than with his long-buried past, and he has other problems on his mind. There’s the preparations for Saint Clement’s Day, and the odd fact that birds all over the county have taken to hiding themselves, and the misbehaviour of Left-Lop the pig – which has grown vegetation all over its back, escaped its farm and taken to making personal remarks at folks in alarmingly alliterative verse.
But then disaster strikes. Ab is back. And Corbie, thought long dead, returns to Gyrford – younger than his son . . .
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Reviews
Engaging, believable characters who draw us into a world of walking bramble bushes and spectral, fire-breathing hounds . . . stands out for its depiction of a family deeply connected to a community, helping those who need it the most, regardless of the danger to themselves
As tart, dark and juicy as a summer pudding . . . combines power and poetry to serve up the perfect slice of folk Gothic
Power struggles, violence, mistakes and responsibility are threaded throughout the story. John is a strong, nuanced protagonist whose sound heart gives this book its warmth, even when things start to go wrong. Whitfield's world-building is detailed, the magic of this story is enticing and I found plenty to enjoy in this book
I really loved In The Heart of Hidden Things
It's a joy to return to the world of Gyrford and its fairy-smiths, where magic stalks the hillsides and encounters with the fey can be as perilous as their gifts. Settle in with this book and prepare to be enchanted!
A gripping multi-generational family saga of surreal folk magic, with memorable characters, detailed worldbuilding and a satisfying plot
An immersive and rewarding read.
Warm and dark and wonderful
Enthralling reading!
I thoroughly enjoyed the book. Whitfield delineates character and relationships with great delicacy, and joyfulness in invention
