Review: The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door
The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by H.G. Parry
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by H.G. Parry took me straight into a version of England where the war has left its scars and magic is not just some hidden thing, but a restless presence in the lives of those trying to piece themselves back together. There is a quiet desperation at the centre of the story, as a young scholar, not born to privilege, seeks a way to save a family member. Their journey, which begins in hope, soon leads to places that feel half-forgotten, where old seals and mysterious doors promise answers, though not always the ones one might want.
What struck me most was the atmosphere, which reminded me of wandering through old archives, the air heavy with secrets and memories that do not rest. Parry captures the sense of a country still haunted, where magic slips into the cracks left by war and into the spaces between people. Power and class are never far from the surface; the way magic is bound up with privilege and old wounds gives the whole tale a subtle tension.
The magic here is alluring but never feels safe. Parry’s academic world is not a place of comfort; it is full of hidden dangers, more like a maze than a sanctuary. At first, this works well, the discoveries feel genuine and the risks real. But as the story goes on, I found a certain repetition in the challenges faced. The unexpected becomes a little too expected, and some of the freshness I felt in the beginning fades away. There is a predictability to some of the obstacles, and the story begins to tread a path I could see ahead of me.
As a piece of historical fantasy, the book does what it sets out to do, rooting its magic in the uncertainties left after the Great War. Familiar places, like elite schools and guarded libraries, are shaped into something uneasy, questioning how old systems of power linger on. The divisions between those with magical blood and those without feel uncomfortably close to the world we know, and the story circles around whether change is possible from within, or only by breaking old rules.
The characters drew me in at first, their wants and fears so clear, but as the pages turned I found they began to feel less alive, their actions more shaped by the story than by any real change within themselves. I wanted to see more of them struggling, growing, surprising me, but too often they simply moved where the plot needed them.
Still, there is something special in how Parry weaves together faerie stories with the restless energy of the Jazz Age. The writing handles the bigger questions with a gentle touch; sacrifice, the sting of ambition, the price of belonging. I especially liked how the book asks who should hold power, who is fit to wield knowledge, and whether society can be remade or only patched together.
The first half had a warmth and excitement I enjoyed, carried by the small joys of friendship and discovery. It reminded me a little of the early days in stories of magical schools, when the world feels wide open. Later, though, the pace falters. The plot threads start to tangle, and the momentum is lost among too many obstacles that begin to blur together. I found myself wishing for a steadier hand, a little more clarity, especially as the story grew busier.
The richness of the world is both a gift and a burden. The setting is vivid, the sense of place strong, but it can slow the story, and at times I found myself lost among too many unresolved paths. What stayed with me was the sense of how easy it is for trust to fray, especially when everything around you is broken, and how betrayal can slip in quietly, growing from small beginnings.
In the end, the book felt to me like a more grown-up, quieter take on magical academia, one with more weight of history and less flash, more concerned with the slow turning of power and the choices that shape it. For those of us who like to sit with stories about privilege, power, and the cost of loyalty in magical worlds, there is plenty here to savour, though it asks for patience and does not always reward with fireworks. The characters do not leap from the page, but the world they inhabit is drawn with care, and there is a quiet honesty in how the story unfolds.