Madeleine Roux has carved out a distinctive niche in young adult horror with her latest offering, A Girl Walks Into the Forest, a visceral reimagining of Slavic folklore that transforms the traditional bride-to-be narrative into something far more sinister and empowering. This dark fantasy stands as both a coming-of-age tale and a brutal examination of how beauty can be weaponized, twisted, and ultimately reclaimed.
A Journey from Innocence to Power
The story follows Valla, a young woman from the harsh northern village of Arylik, whose exceptional beauty marks her as destined for Count Leonid’s bride. What begins as an apparent fairy tale blessing quickly devolves into a nightmare when Valla’s journey through the deadly Gottyar Wood leaves her face scarred beyond recognition. Roux masterfully subverts the traditional “beauty as currency” trope, using Valla’s disfigurement not as a tragedy to overcome, but as the catalyst for her transformation into something far more dangerous than a pretty face.
The novel’s opening chapters establish a stark contrast between Valla’s humble origins and her grand expectations. Roux’s prose captures the biting cold of Arylik with palpable authenticity: “To grow old here is to harden like a lump of clay left out in the winter sun, to be whittled down and down by the sharp wind that cuts through home and cloth and flesh.” This atmospheric foundation serves the story well, as it becomes clear that Valla’s harsh upbringing has prepared her for horrors the pampered nobility could never imagine.
The Horror of Domestic Abuse Disguised as Romance
Where Roux truly excels is in her unflinching portrayal of Count Leonid and his family’s cruelty. The Count’s rejection of his scarred bride reveals the shallow, predatory nature lurking beneath aristocratic privilege. Leonid isn’t simply disappointed by Valla’s changed appearance—he becomes actively hostile, subjecting her to psychological torture that escalates into physical violence. The dinner scenes in particular showcase Roux’s ability to build tension through seemingly mundane interactions, as each meal becomes a minefield of potential humiliation and abuse.
The author’s decision to make Ermo, Leonid’s brother, initially appear as a potential savior only to reveal him as equally manipulative, adds layers of complexity to the power dynamics at play. His attempted seduction of Valla while plotting his brother’s murder demonstrates how predators often disguise themselves as rescuers—a particularly relevant theme in contemporary discourse about abuse.
Baba Yaga: Mentor, Mirror, and Warning
The introduction of Baba Yaga represents the novel’s most successful fusion of horror and folklore. Rather than presenting the witch as a simple antagonist or magical helper, Roux creates a character who embodies both the cost and the power of choosing violence as a response to trauma. Baba Yaga’s own disfigurement mirrors Valla’s, but her centuries of isolation and revenge have left her something less than human.
The relationship between Valla and Baba Yaga serves as the emotional core of the novel’s second half. Through their interactions, Roux explores questions of justice versus vengeance, and whether becoming a monster is an acceptable price for defeating monsters. The forest setting becomes almost a character itself, with its carnivorous trees and shape-shifting creatures reflecting the protagonists’ internal transformations.
Violence as Liberation and Transformation
Roux doesn’t shy away from graphic violence, but neither does she glorify it. The novel’s bloodiest moments serve specific narrative purposes, whether revealing character motivations or marking crucial turning points in Valla’s journey. The scene where Valla first embraces her connection to the forest—drinking its poisoned water and feeling roots grow through her veins—stands as a particularly powerful metaphor for accepting one’s darker nature.
The climactic battle sequence showcases Roux’s skill at action writing, as Valla leads an army of forest creatures against the castle. However, the most impactful violence remains personal rather than spectacular. Valla’s final confrontation with Ermo, where she literally grows bark through her skin as he attempts to assault her, transforms body horror into empowerment.
Literary Strengths and Narrative Flow
Roux’s prose style adapts well to the folklore-inspired setting, employing a slightly archaic tone without becoming pretentious. Her descriptions of the Gottyar Wood create an atmosphere of living malevolence that recalls the best of Angela Carter’s fairy tale retellings. The pacing builds steadily from Valla’s initial journey through her captivity and training, culminating in a satisfying crescendo of violence and transformation.
The novel’s structure benefits from its relatively focused cast and single primary setting. By keeping most of the action within or around Castle Valtivisk, Roux creates an intimate sense of claustrophobia that serves the horror elements well. The introduction of magical elements feels organic rather than jarring, growing naturally from the established folklore foundation.
Character Development and Emotional Resonance
Valla’s transformation from naive village girl to forest witch feels earned rather than sudden. Roux traces each step of her protagonist’s psychological journey, from her initial shock at Leonid’s cruelty through her growing acceptance of violence as a necessary tool. The inclusion of Gavril, Valla’s mute brother, provides an emotional anchor that prevents the story from becoming purely about revenge.
The supporting characters, particularly Yulnia (Leonid’s sister) and Marwa (the castle cook), are sketched with enough detail to feel human rather than simply functional. Yulnia’s own tragic fate—murdered by her brothers for her intended escape—reinforces the novel’s themes about the expendability of women in patriarchal systems.
Thematic Depth and Social Commentary
Beneath its horror trappings, A Girl Walks Into the Forest offers sharp commentary on contemporary issues surrounding consent, bodily autonomy, and the ways society values women primarily for their physical appearance. Valla’s scarring becomes a liberation of sorts, freeing her from others’ expectations and allowing her to discover her own power.
The novel also examines the cyclical nature of abuse and trauma. Baba Yaga’s centuries-long campaign of revenge has trapped her in the very forest she seeks to protect, suggesting that becoming consumed by the desire for justice can be its own form of prison. Valla’s ultimate choice to embrace her role as the new Baba Yaga while maintaining connections to her humanity offers a more hopeful interpretation of this cycle.
Areas for Improvement
While the novel succeeds in many areas, some elements feel underdeveloped. The magical system governing the forest’s powers could benefit from clearer rules and limitations. Additionally, certain secondary characters, particularly the forest creatures called yiliksii, remain somewhat abstract despite their importance to the plot.
The novel’s climax, while satisfying, resolves perhaps too neatly. The destruction of Castle Valtivisk and the defeat of the Count’s family feels almost inevitable rather than hard-won. A more ambiguous ending might have served the story’s themes better, acknowledging that cycles of violence and trauma don’t end simply because the immediate perpetrators are eliminated.
Comparison to Roux’s Previous Work
Readers familiar with Roux’s Asylum series will recognize her talent for atmospheric horror and complex protagonist relationships. However, A Girl Walks Into the Forest represents a maturation of her style, with more sophisticated themes and a stronger grounding in mythological tradition. The novel feels more cohesive than her earlier works, with each element serving the central narrative rather than existing for pure shock value.
The influence of classic fairy tale authors like the Brothers Grimm and Russian folklorists is evident throughout, but Roux makes the material distinctly her own rather than simply updating traditional stories for modern audiences.
Similar Reading Recommendations
Readers who appreciate A Girl Walks Into the Forest might enjoy:
“The Ten Thousand Doors of January” by Alix E. Harrow – For its blend of dark fantasy and coming-of-age themes
“The Priory of the Orange Tree” by Samantha Shannon – For epic fantasy with strong female protagonists
“Mexican Gothic” by Silvia Moreno-Garcia – For atmospheric horror with feminist themes
“The Bear and the Nightingale” by Katherine Arden – For Slavic folklore-inspired fantasy
“The Bloody Chamber” by Angela Carter – For dark fairy tale retellings with feminist perspectives
Final Verdict
A Girl Walks Into the Forest succeeds as both entertainment and social commentary, offering readers a genuinely unsettling horror experience while exploring important themes about power, trauma, and transformation. Roux has created a protagonist whose journey from victim to victor feels both satisfying and troubling, refusing to provide easy answers about the costs of seeking justice.
While not perfect, the novel represents a strong entry in the growing field of feminist horror fiction. It will particularly appeal to readers who appreciate stories where traditional fairy tale elements are deconstructed and rebuilt into something darker and more complex. The book’s exploration of beauty as both blessing and curse, its unflinching examination of abuse dynamics, and its ultimately empowering message about reclaiming agency make it a worthy addition to any dark fantasy collection.
Roux has crafted a tale that honors its folkloric roots while speaking directly to contemporary concerns, creating something that feels both timeless and urgently relevant. For readers seeking horror with substance and fairy tales with teeth, A Girl Walks Into the Forest delivers on both counts.