The Witch’s Boy

 Book by Kelly Barnhill.

This was a fun read, with clever writing, interesting characters, and important ideas to discuss:

Do we believe what the word says about us? (ie. the label “The Wrong Boy”)

How do we deal with grief?

What voices are we listening to? (The voices of the magic could certainly be equated with the voice of the natural man or temptations to be selfish.)

How do we resist temptation? (Have a firm will, mind, and heart)

How much control do we have over ourselves?

Forgiveness, redemption, coming to yourself

The satisfaction of hard work, growth, problem-solving, and self-reliance.

The power of words and voices

The danger of seeking power, influence, etc

The magic-bearer as a type of Christ, an intercessor who vicariously experiences the pain of others

The word “yet” can either be hopeful or fear-inducing, depending on what you are focusing on.

Recognizing that choices have Consequences.

Note: there are a few mild swears and instances of taking the Lord’s name in vain. 

Some notable quotes:

(Describing the un helpfulness of the villagers) “They did not dive in to assist the man or his drowning children. Instead, they called out helpful comments to the terrified father.”

“She was a woman of power, both loved and resented,”

“People would think what they liked, and would likely think wrong. This was nothing new.”

“he bent under the weight of his guilt and his sadness, a great millstone around his neck.”

“The wrong boy, the world said. Year after year after year. And Ned believed it.”

“A word, after all, is a kind of magic. It locks the substance of a thing in sound or symbol, and affixes it to the ear, or paper, or stone. Words call the world into being. That’s power indeed.”

“such a treasure is appreciated when it is needed and forgotten when it is not.”

“It’s a terrible thing when a fool with power fools with power.”

“Their magic fed the hungry; it cured disease; it fixed chimneys and roofs and coaxed bubbling water from a dry, dry stone. Their magic settled disputes, blessed unions, and filled bellies… She believed in the magic. She believed in its capacity for good… She continued the work of her forbearers, offering magical intercession to those in need.”

“It was because of the yet that Ned could hope… Yet was a powerful word.”

“despite how good it made him feel, and despite the thought of that much power, Ned didn’t trust it.”

“Are you forgetting what this man is? Heal, Ned thought again, his resolve strengthening.”

“Selfishness is the root of tyranny.”

“How much control did he have really? “You have more power than you think you do. Your fear is a problem, so lose it.”

“You aren’t alone. You’ve never been alone… “You have friends coming, and friends inside you too. But be careful.” “Of what?” Ned asked the empty darkness. “The things that lie.”

“There are better places, you know, the magic whispered. Prettier places. You could be powerful. Handsome. Rich. Ned began to whistle—high and bright—to drown out their voices.”

“as she often did when the world became frightening, Áine set to work.”

“The magic could make him healed. It might remove his stutter. It might make him tall and strong and maybe adept enough at woodsmanship to please his father. Or scholarship to please his mother. Who knows what the magic might do. Indeed . . . a hiss on his skin. A hopeful prickle. Ned regained himself. STOP IT, his mind commanded.”

“just because [bad things] hadn’t come, didn’t mean they wouldn’t. They simply hadn’t come yet. Yet, Áine decided, was a terrible word. A terrible word, indeed.”

“D-don’t be s-scared,” Ned whispered. The words had power. Just saying them made him feel braver.”

“The question,” he continued, “is not how wrong were we, but rather it is this: How will we respond?”

“Kill the girl. Kill the wolf. We will enrich you, ennoble you, empower you. You will be loved and feared and adored. We will bend ourselves to your will. We can do this. We’ve never been allowed, but we can… It wasn’t good, this magic. It was argumentative, malicious, and duplicitous…. am I more powerful than this thing? What if it turns wicked? What if I turn wicked with it?… It was so easy. He could do anything. And the notion of anything was intoxicating.”

“They were there, and they loved. And that wasn’t nothing.”

“It gave him influence over people. Power. He was followed, adored, loved. And the more he was loved, the more he was hungry for it. He thought he would never be full.”

“And suddenly, he was awake. The twist in his soul unkinked at last. His eyes were his eyes and his heart was his heart. He was wholly himself. He felt with the surety of a Stone that these thoughts were his and his alone. And he knew that it was good. To take the blow so she could live—it was good in a way that nothing had been good in . . . ever so long.”

““You’ve been listening to a cloud of liars. Why not listen to the one who tells you the truth?”

“He spoke with is own voice, and his voice had power.”

“Fear is a difficult thing to unlearn.”

“Forgiveness, Ned’s mother told him, is a remarkable thing, especially when a man forgives himself… “Forgiveness,” she told him, “is the most powerful force in the world. Much more powerful than magic.”

“These activities, of course, would be easier with magic. But they wouldn’t be nearly so satisfying.”