If Women Rose Rooted: The Power of the Celtic Woman by Sharon Blackie

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


This book, “If Women Rose Rooted,” was recommended to me very enthusiastically by a friend of mine. The fact I completed it indicates it is definitely worth a read. (I haven’t completed a whole book in … years—I have twin toddlers).

The essence of this eco-feminist novel is that women have a deep connection with nature, and particularly with a sense of place (both location and culture), and when we cut ourselves off from that sense of belonging we find ourselves lost in the “Wasteland.” We women are of nature and the patriarchy via Christianity has oppressed the female nature. Eve sought knowledge after communing with nature and look what happened? The book lays out that female nature should work complementary to the masculine nature, and what we have now is an unhealthy domination of the masculine (i.e., toxic masculinity). The author acknowledges the differences of men and women* but how both are necessary, like yin and yang, for a healthy society, in cooperation with each other.

*When I use the terms men and women, whatever gender you identify with and whatever nature you may gravitate toward. The book does not address the gender spectrum, but all of us have both the masculine and feminine inside of us. Feminism must always respect and embrace that spectrum.

Author Sharon Blackie could have used a much more heavy-handed editor. I found her prose long-winded and repetitive at times, and I would have liked to have seen more analysis of how the ancient myths inform our modern lives. She does weave in her own troubled past and how it informed her often flawed decision making, and we see that, even for a psychologist, this reconnection is not easy. Her own struggle is important to the narrative, but it also makes it seem like reconnection may too hard.

The book focuses on Celtic mythology, as those are her roots, and she recognizes that those with other cultural backgrounds have other mythologies that will be important and instructive to them. I understand that she does not want to appropriate other cultural myths, but typically these archetypal myths have universal meaning. She is also of Scottish and Irish descent so, of course, she feels connected to that land. It seems like the author believes Celtic myths may only be useful to those with Celtic roots, but likely those Celtic myths have roots that go even further in time and place to mankind’s origins in Africa. In an attempt to be sensitive to cultural appropriation, she becomes somewhat exclusionary.

Another criticism I have of the book is that the author focuses all of her stories but one on those who must live in the countryside to feel connected to land. There is one story of a women who finds connectedness in London, but the author preaches isolation in the wilderness. She worked a high-powered job at a tobacco corporation making a good salary before realizing the work was not nourishing her, triggering her to move from croft to croft in far-flung northern sea-battered landscapes. I don’t know many women who can afford to retreat for years with no steady paycheck. She is writing, for sure, from a place of privilege that I often found a bit grating. She also has no children which affords her an opportunity to unroot herself from here and there (she does grapple with the mothering aspect of the feminine nature and her own choice not to have children, and she deftly handles the subject of nurturing not being confined to motherhood).

But! For all of my criticisms, I found it to be an impactful book because it really made me look at myself and my life. Was I cut off from my creativity? Was I feeling disaffected and disillusioned, drained? The book angered me for awakening the realization that I, too, am mired in a creative wasteland of my own. It put me in a bad mood. It depressed me. To use a pop culture reference, this book was like the red pill in the Matrix movie, waking me up to an unsettling truth. Except now I must choose to either answer the “Call” or try to lose myself again in the status quo. For this impact, the book is worth reading. But I felt that it did not provide me enough guidance on what to do with these feelings. Unlike the author, I am not going off to a remote Gaelic island to sing to rocks. Her need to shed her “responsibilities” in this manner is not even remotely an option for most women. The author is a writer and a psychologist. At one point she owned an independent publishing company. Her skillset lends itself to striking off on one’s own. How many women could do the same?

Once I finished this book, I immediately picked up the eco-feminist novel “Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Women in Archetype,” by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés. Her writing is much more concise, and she provides the analysis of these myths and how they relate universally to women reclaiming their power. (The Bluebeard myth is brutal!) I’m only about 15% into the book (thanks, Kindle), but so far I don’t see her advocating for life on remote islands. Her guidance feels more practical. Indeed, likely the reason this book landed on the New York Times Bestseller list at some point is its accessibility.

Although “If Women Rose Rooted” wasn’t perfect, it is useful and in its own way powerful, and I’m making changes in my life to accommodate this awakened call to become more rooted in the things that nourish me. I’m trying to channel that anger into determination to change.



View all my reviews