Who Can You Trust?

 Throughout the chapters of Kelly Barnhill's award-winning book, The Girl Who Drank the Moon, there are sprinkled narratives told by mysterious storytellers, each with their own myths and ideologies about the legendary Witch who is responsible for their sorrow. 

Each italicized voice shares their view on the history and fate of Protectorate, the identity of the Witch, and recognition of defeat. Although it is tempting to assume that the italicized voice is the same storyteller throughout the book, we are slowly introduced to details that would inspire us think otherwise. Kelly Barnhill's tale is a conglomerate of characters and storylines, each intertwining in a delicate way. Every detail Barnhill provides is vital in forming our understanding of each character and their varying histories, but there are often too many details to organize. Some of the storytellers seem obvious, while others remain a mystery. 

Chapter 1: The very first italicized voice we see in the book appears in the premiere chapter "In Which a Story is Told". This is the reader's first glimpse of the myths surrounding the Witch. We know that this voice is a mother sharing her tale and answering infinite questions from the child accompanying her. Our first hints of identity in this chapter come from these few short lines: "Oh, hush now, don't cry. It's not as though the elders are coming for you, now is it. You're far too old. From our family? Yes, dearest, Ever so long ago. Before you were born. He was a beautiful boy." (2) In a later chapter we discover the Madwoman reflecting on something from her own past. "Before the Madwoman was born, her mother had sacrificed a baby to the Witch. A boy." with this detail in mind, we can concur that the very first voice we are exposed belongs to the Mother of the Madwoman. 

Chapter 4: "In Which It Was Just a Dream" In this chapter we see a melancholy storyteller who admits to not knowing very much about the Witch at all and simply recalls a dream about a boy she had sacrificed almost 20 years earlier, "Sometimes. I have this dream. About your brother. He would be eighteen by now. No. Nineteen. I have this dream that he has dark hair and luminous skin and stars in his eyes. " (29). Later, in Chapter 28, we learn more about Ehyne's past. "When Ethyne was a little girl, her mother told her story after story about the Witch in the woods. Ethyne was an inquisitive child, and once she knew that her elder brother was one of the babies sacrificed, she was filled with questions." Knowing what we know about Ethyne's family dynamics, it is safe to assume the voice in Chapter 4 belongs to Ethyne's Mother. 

Chapter 8: "In Which a Story Contains a Hint of Truth" Although there are few details in this chapter that elude to the identity of the storyteller or the listener, I am tempted to believe this story is being told by the Mother of Antain. There is a moment within this chapter where the teller devalues bravery and warns against standing up against the Witch; which is eventually exactly what Antain ends up doing. "This is why it doesn't pay to be brave. Bravery makes nothing, protects nothing, and results in nothing." Luckily Antain ignored this advice. 

Chapter 20: The teller is Luna.

The Italicized chapters that follow are hard to identify. They involve origin stories about the 7 League Boots, the Bog, and the Volcano. Most of these stories have a large portion of truth, but the opinion of and the identity of the Witch still remain distorted. It is likely that the stories are being told by other parents in the Protectorate who we do not necessarily know, and could also be varying in timeline. 

So why did Barnhill do this? What is the point of the ominous italicized voice? Well, for one thing, the italicized chapters provide perspective; multiple perspectives. As the reader, we have access to the larger scope of the story, but the characters in the story have only had access to one version of truth: the stories their Mother's told them when they were young. You can start to imagine how something horrifying, like the annual sacrifice of a baby, became normalized and even insisted upon over time. In this way, we can understand how storytelling is widely misconstrued and distorted based on the experiences and biases of the teller.  Because of the bias and random fragments of information in which stories are based, we learn that stories are not always true and that the teller is not always trustworthy. 

"A story can tell the truth, she knew, but a story can also lie. Stories can bend and twist and obfuscate. Controlling stories is a power indeed. And who would benefit most from such a power?" (309)

Barnhill's exploration of distorted storytelling and its damage to youth and to society begs us to make informed decisions based on seeking truth, not just believing everything you are told. She reminds the reader to always be inquisitive and to seek credible information, not just opinion, and to test the boundaries of "truth" by experiencing things for yourself. In, The Girl Who Drank the Moon, we are inspired to be truth-seekers. Barnhill gives us the courage to right wrongs, judge less, and to above all, never let someone steal your sense of hope away.