A Sweet Sting of Salt

by Rose Sutherland

Genres: Fantasy, Historical Fiction
Pages: 342
Rating:

Synopsis:

Once a young woman uncovers a dark secret about her neighbor and his mysterious new wife, she’ll have to fight to keep herself—and the woman she loves—safe in this stunning queer reimagining of the classic folktale The Selkie Wife.

When a sharp cry wakes Jean in the middle of the night during a terrible tempest, she’s convinced it must have been a dream. But when the cry comes again, Jean ventures outside and is shocked by what she discovers—a young woman in labor, already drenched to the bone in the freezing cold and barely able to speak a word of English.

Although Jean is the only midwife in the village and for miles around, she’s at a loss as to who this woman is or where she’s from; Jean can only assume she must be the new wife of the neighbor up the road, Tobias. And when Tobias does indeed arrive at her cabin in search of his wife, Muirin, Jean’s questions continue to grow. Why has he kept his wife’s pregnancy a secret? And why does Muirin’s open demeanor change completely the moment she’s in his presence?

Though Jean learned long ago that she should stay out of other people’s business, her growing concern—and growing feelings—for Muirin mean she can’t simply set her worries aside. But when the answers she finds are more harrowing than she ever could have imagined, she fears she may have endangered herself, Muirin, and the baby. Will she be able to put things right and save the woman she loves before it’s too late, or will someone have to pay for Jean’s actions with their life?

Rose Sutherland’s A Sweet Sting of Salt is ultimately a selkie story, but it doesn’t feel like one — this isn’t a fantasy story, is what I’m trying to say, but feels much more literary fiction/historical fiction. Which is not a bad thing, per se, but it was on fantasy lists and I think the vibe is quite different to that. The story is mostly grounded in physical, historical detail: milking goats, making cheese, delivering babies… and it’s not that fantasy never does that, but this book is so coy about the selkie reveal that you only know it’s going there for sure because the cover copy says so.

The main character, Jean, is a big part of that, because she’s very much grounded in the everyday, physical tasks of her life, and quick to interpret everything in light of that everyday life. Muirin’s not a selkie, she’s just a Scot who doesn’t speak English; Kiel’s webbed hands are just a minor birth defect; their seal-like barks are just an odd laughter…

You get the drill.

There’s a significant creepiness and tension to the book that I hadn’t quite expected, as Muirin’s husband becomes colder, angrier, and more determined to keep her locked inside her home, and keep Jean off his land. His suspicions turn into violent anger and creepy behaviour, in a way that feels realistic at each step — and then you take a step back and look at how unhinged he was, see all the warning signs, and know that all along he was awful, really.

It’s well done, and I enjoyed it; I didn’t find it “unputdownable”, but I did want to know how things worked out exactly. I liked some of the supporting characters, like Anneke, Laurie, and the brief glimpses we get of Dal and Jo.

Rating: 4/5