Reading Well: The Wolf Border by Sarah Hall

The Wolf Border (2015) is Sarah Hall‘s third novel that I’ve written about, following Daughters of the North and The Electric MichelangeloI really enjoy her writing, and I received the paperback edition of The Wolf Border with great anticipation.

It did not disappoint, not least of all because of the ways in which it adds to the diversity of her output. Rachel, the novel’s protagonist, is richly drawn and a character whose flaws are evident and on display, but in a way that communicates humanity and not weakness. She is a field biologist specializing in the reintroduction of wolves into the wild, and the novel follows two primary plots; one of which revolves around her being approached by a wealthy and slightly eccentric aristocrat to leave her current role in the USA and lead an effort to bring wolves back to his massive estate on the border between England and Scotland. The other follows an unexpected pregnancy and its impact on Rachel, her family, and her close circle.

The geography of that part of the world remains obviously dear to Hall’s heart, but she has matured as a writer: while the land was almost a separate character in The Daughters of the North, here it serves as deep background, the anchoring context for the actions of the characters. The wolves are dealt with well, too: neither romanticized nor brutalized, they exist as compelling creatures, with no real attempt to decode or humanize their behavior.

But the story is really Rachel’s, and her relationships, her decisions, and her navigation of a constellation of lovers and family (a mother whose presence remains constant and dominating long past her death and a brother with whom she faces a complex path towards reconciliation) are the core of the book. She is strong, and fiercely independent, and tends towards a solitary existence without compromising her passion or her passions. That makes her an unusual female character, and is complicated considerably by the pregnancy storyline.

There are some plotting choices with which I would squabble, but I found the book compelling and memorable.

#WhatIWishICouldDo

Hall’s prior protagonists had their own depth, but Rachel is cut from much thicker cloth. Her actions are clearly motivated and remain problematic for her: it is a glimpse into both the benefits and the costs of certain personal and professional choices, and I think that complexity is amazing. Too often, my own protagonists are vehicles through which the world unfolds and the action happens, and while they may be flawed, creating a character with whom the reader has enough sympathy and investment to watch them make difficult and perhaps poor choices while not losing interest is a goal for me. Hall does that with Rachel.

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