Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands

Prior to the events of this installment, Emily went from feeling annoyance and suspicion toward Wendell to having an attraction and near-relationship, despite her instincts telling her to do otherwise. Initially objective in nearly all of her decisions, Emily valued the legitimacy of her scientific research most. She prioritized this above any relationship and certainly preferred it in lieu of forming a close relationship with a faerie king who embellishes research. Her objectivity is compromised, however, because of her feelings for Wendell.

At the start of Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands, which occurs a few months after the events of the first installment, Emily has yet to accept Wendell’s marriage proposal. However, her hesitation is not from lack of romantic feelings, for “[she has] indeed lost sleep over it [and her] stomach is in knots” (15). Emily’s primary internal conflicts, which will be explored throughout the sequel, are introduced in this first section: (1) Wendell is one of the Folk, who are naturally untrustworthy, and whose romance stories always end in a tragedy, and (2) Emily consistently worries how the subjectivity of relationships will affect the objectivity of her research. Emily cannot fathom saying no to Wendell’s proposal because she does love him, yet to accept his proposal would go against everything she knows about the Folk and herself. After all, “marriage has always struck [her] as a pointless business, at best a distraction from [her] work and at worst a very large distraction from [her] work coupled with a lifetime of tedious social obligations” (15). These internal conflicts serve as a preface to the theme Balancing Objectivity and Subjectivity, as Emily’s indecisiveness between Wendell and academia—and her inability to separate the two—will affect her mission in St. Leisl. Her lingering potential engagement to Wendell highlights just how far her character has developed from her scientifically stoic former self.

Emily desperately clings to the remnants of her objectivity in regard to her present research, yet her efforts are proven futile, for even Rose recognizes the recent compromise in her scholarly values. Rose chides Emily on the train to St. Leisl about what he believes to be her misplaced trust in Wendell, exclaiming:

Are you blind to the danger this places you in? It is so obvious that I find myself wondering sometimes if you are bewitched. The man you see as Wendell Bambleby […] is a fiction. He is the natural-born ruler of the Silva Lupi, for God’s sake! The most vicious faerie kingdom in Ireland, one responsible for the disappearances or deaths of dozens of scholars, as well as Lord knows how many mortal inhabitants of the region. ‘The realm of villains and monsters,’ Brakspear called it in his Histories. That is the home he wants back. And you see him as an ally? A friend? What is the matter with you? (71).

Multiple times in these opening chapters and on, Rose must remind Emily to act like a scholar instead of “some silly mortal in a story whose head was turned by one of the Folk” (71). Emily’s habit of dismissing Rose for his outdated beliefs and underestimating his own expertise in the dryadology field introduces the theme of The Dangers of Arrogance. Previously more careful in her methodology, Emily has gained so much exposure to fae and the faerie realm on her last expedition and has evaded harm enough times that she has developed significant risk-taking behaviors, which continue to negatively impact her research and her companions in this installment. As in her previous adventure, however, Emily still prefers to work in solitude. She trusts her own judgment and experience and prefers not to have to explain herself or work with others. Though Emily is opposed to allowing Ariadne and Rose to join “her” research expedition, and though she repeatedly prefers to wander off on her own in St. Leisl, The Benefits of Accepting Help From Others is increasingly apparent and even imperative in this sequel.

Emily’s obsession with academics has not changed much despite her time in Ljosland and extensive exposure to the fae, as she still descends into “obsessive periods” of research (8). She expresses having familial feelings for the campus library and claims, “Cambridge is the only true home [she has] ever known” (21). In just the first chapter, Wendell asks Emily, “Can you not do anything without waving around a pointer and a stack of diagrams?” (13). Her larger office, which she received upon being granted tenure, would be sparsely decorated with only shelves of books if not for Wendell, who insisted on decorating the room. Naturally, Emily views these few items as unnecessary clutter rather than the comforting, homely appeal they serve as for most other people.

The ruthlessness of academia, which was explored in the first installment, is a concept subtly woven throughout the sequel. Despite Rose’s levelheadedness and his ability to socialize marginally better than Emily, he practically blackmails Emily into allowing him to accompany her to St. Leisl, claiming, “I can live with a lapse in ethics. I can live with a great deal if, in exchange, I find answers to the great scientific mysteries of our time” (58). Similarly, despite Ariadne being a biological relative of Emily, Emily treats her as she would any scholarly assistant. In rare moments when Emily expresses concern for Ariadne’s safety, Ariadne reacts with shock. Additionally, even in heightened moments of danger and tension, Emily often admits to considering how her research will be impacted by the experience.

Fawcett’s descriptive writing throughout the Emily Wilde series creates moments of tension or foreboding in lyrical similes and metaphors, as well as in nature-related descriptions. From the beginning, when Emily has her first encounter with Eichorn, she “felt a shiver glide along [her] neck like the brush of a cold fingertip” (10). When she arrives in St. Leisl, Emily notes on her first night, “the shadow of the peak had fallen over the cottage, and the air had none of the warmth we’d felt on the approach” (83). The ominous description of the wilderness of St. Leisl when night falls alludes to the dangers that will soon befall Emily and her companions when she fails to pay heed to the local warnings about the nocturnal fae. The landscape imagery plays a large role in Fawcett’s writing, and it often provides a juxtaposition between the outdoor and indoor settings, such as that of the cottage in which the group stays, contributing to the cozy fantasy genre and allowing for comforting breaks from the action. These breaks inside often work to develop the relationships between the characters and enhance the stark contrast once they are exposed again to the elements of the beautiful but dangerous St. Leisl.