Island Witch by Amanda Jayatissa
Berkley (February 2024)
Reviewed by Haley Newlin
Island Witch is an unforgettable and culturally rich good-for-her horror novel I cannot stop talking about. After reading This Cursed House by Del Sandeen, Blood On Her Tongue by Johanna Van Veen, and Jordan Peele’s anthology Out There Screaming, I’ve been on such a historical fiction and female rage kick. Island Witch is topical, with themes like colonialism, colorism, racism, feminism, and misogyny. It’s a razor-sharp exploration of the violent experience of girlhood and womanhood, perfect for readers seeking a horror book with historical and social depth.
With fear comes the abandonment of reason, and that’s when things become dangerous.
Inspired by Sri Lankan folklore, Amanda Jayatissa’s Island Witch is a lush, gothic 19th-century horror story about Amara, the daughter of a village Capuwa, or demon priest. Because of her father’s profession, Amara’s peers bully her and accuse her of witchcraft. Things only get worse when men are violently attacked in the jungle. The village, which the British colonizers increasingly influence, points the finger at Amara’s father and further outcasts her and her family. Even though many called upon the Capuwa whenever supernatural evil was at their doorstep, inside their homes, or possessing their children.
The premise of Island Witch is familiar, reminiscent of horror books like Carrie and The Exorcist, yet the cultural elements and setting make it fresh and compelling.
There were times when the pacing felt slower, though appropriate for a gothic narrative. The burning questions and Amara’s frightful nightmares help overcome this. Once the setting and colonial and Sri Lankan history are established, Island Witch launches into a series of gut-punching reveals that make it impossible to put down.
Amara learns that once a monster is revealed, others aren’t far behind, and sometimes this means uncovering the truth about those who hide behind the guise of love and friendliness. This shattered illusion is crucial to coming-of-age stories. Jaytissa brilliantly captures how this is far more complex for girls as Amara uncovers women hurting all over the village, suffering abuse, assault, and stolen autonomies. Here, she steps into her anger, which makes for an explosive and shocking ending.
The emotional connection between the reader and Amara is undeniably magnetic. You’ll root for Samara, curse those who take advantage of her naïveté, and always come back to the point of understanding why she pursues the paths she does. Jaytissa creates complex and flawed characters, including Amara’s childhood friend Neha, who has taken to British and Christian practices, and Amara’s mother, who left behind luxury and comfort for her marriage. The development of these two relationships contributes immensely to Amara’s character arc and fierce and furious self-reclamation. Fans of Ti West’s Pearl will savor a particular part of the big finale.
As much as Island Witch speaks for women who’ve been silenced and validates female readers, I hope men pick this up, too. It’s a great representation of scapegoats used to persecute women and how recognizable these patterns are even hundreds of years later.
Readers who enjoyed The Hacienda by Isabel Canas, Silvia Moreno’s The Daughter of Doctor Moreau, and Johanna Van Veen’s My Darling Dreadful Thing will love Island Witch.
