Exploring the Intertwined Lives of Three Women Through the Generations: A Review of Emilia Hart’s Weyward

Emilia Hart’s Weyward weaves together the stories of three women across generations—Altha in 1619, Violet in 1942, and Kate in 2019. Through their lives, the novel explores themes of trauma, resilience, and a mystical connection to nature. Three women, three timelines, three life stories interwoven around the Weyward cottage, where each of them lived at some point in their lives.

The novel reflects on the continuity of a female lineage shaped by suffering, persecution, and violence, as well as the ways in which these women reclaim their strength and identity. At its heart, Weyward seeks to show how family stories, shared spaces, and an intergenerational bond with nature can empower individuals to break free from cycles of trauma and forge their own paths.

Family tree of the Weyward lineage, inspired by the book of Emilia Hart.

The Motivations of Kate and Violet: Searching for Identity

Kate and Violet’s genealogical journeys are central to the story. While their motivations differ, the Weyward cottage is essential in expressing this intergenerational bond through shared landscapes and places.

For Kate, the cottage is a tangible link to her lineage, one that she chooses to explore. After six years in a toxic relationship and the trauma of losing her father in childhood, Kate feels disconnected from herself, her confidence shattered, and her identity repressed. Her search for her ancestors becomes a journey of self-discovery, offering her a chance to escape her old life and rebuild her sense of self. The cottage and its surrounding garden symbolize this escapism, providing a retreat where she can reconnect with nature, feel safe, and heal.

For Violet, the cottage also plays an important role in her journey, though her search for her mother began earlier. Having lost her mother as a young child, Violet is driven to uncover the truth about her. Her quest to learn more about her mother is deeply tied to her search for her own identity. Reconnecting with her mother’s story offers a way to understand herself and escape the suffocating reality imposed by her cruel and unempathetic father.

For both characters, their search is driven by the need to reclaim their identity in a world that seeks to strip them of their agency.

Altha’s Legacy: Writing for the Future

Altha’s decision to document her story highlights one of the most powerful aspects of genealogy: the desire to leave a legacy, to ensure that knowledge and wisdom are not lost to time. Living in a time when women’s voices were easily silenced—through trials, executions, or simple erasure—Altha takes control of her narrative by committing it to paper.

Her motivations are twofold. First, she wants to pass down the wisdom inherited from her mother, ensuring future Weyward women understand their bond with nature and their power. Second, she feels compelled to use her abilities to bring justice to her friend, Grace, who was a victim of abuse. By documenting her trial and her actions, Altha seeks to ensure that her story survives even if she doesn’t.

The message Altha leaves for future generations is clear: men are dangerous and a threat to the very existence of Weyward women. She urges them to stay away from men entirely, advising against taking their names, trusting their love, or seeking their companionship. Her warning reflects the reality of her time, when women had little agency and were often at the mercy of men’s power.

However, this perspective also fuels a self-fulfilling prophecy. By perpetuating fear, suspicion, and distrust, Altha’s message limits the Weyward women’s ability to break free from toxic patterns. Instead of empowering them to build healthier relationships, it reinforces a simplistic and binary view of men and women, making it difficult for future generations to trust or heal fully.

Words of Altha Weyward from Weyward by Emilia Hart.

Genealogy as Reflection, Reinterpretation, and Empowerment

Weyward prompts genealogy lovers to reflect on the role of family history as a tool for understanding and reclaiming identity. Genealogical research isn’t merely about preserving names and dates; it’s about uncovering the stories, patterns, and choices that shaped those who came before us—and deciding how we want to carry them forward. The novel underscores the importance of shared landscapes and places, like the Weyward cottage, which act as tangible links between past and present, binding the three generations.

However, the book oversimplifies this inheritance, presenting the Weyward women’s power as both magical and exclusive to their bloodline. Kate can face her challenges because she is a Weyward, and nature conveniently aligns to protect her. But the true power of genealogy lies not in magic but in its capacity to inspire. By learning from our ancestors’ stories, we draw strength from their struggles and sacrifices, creating our own path to resilience.

This dynamic relationship between past and present reveals an essential truth: inheritance is not purely genetic or emotional—it’s also a responsibility. We don’t just inherit our ancestors’ strengths and weaknesses; we inherit the power to reinterpret their stories and decide which patterns to break and which to preserve.

A Missed Opportunity for Complexity

While Weyward delves into fascinating genealogical themes, it has some shortcomings in execution. The characters often feel flat, reduced to being either fully good or irredeemably bad, which makes them unrealistic and difficult to connect with. Everyone has deeper motivations, even for harmful actions, but the novel rarely delves into these complexities. This lack of nuance extends to the Weyward women themselves. Their actions—often morally questionable—are presented as unquestionably righteous, missing an opportunity to explore the grey areas of their choices.

Kate’s story also suffers from an overuse of flashbacks that slow the progression of her storyline. Rather than allowing her past to reveal itself naturally through her actions and attitudes, the novel relies heavily on exposition, which diminishes the emotional impact of her journey. The writing style further distances the reader by telling us how to feel instead of evoking emotions through the characters’ experiences, making their struggles less engaging.

Finally, the overarching black-and-white duality of men versus women feels overly simplistic. Men are portrayed as inherently dangerous and women as inherently virtuous, which detracts from the nuanced reflection the story could have offered. While there are exceptions, such as Graham and Henry, these characters are underdeveloped, leaving this binary largely unchallenged. A more balanced and layered exploration of gender dynamics could have added depth and made the narrative more compelling.

Conclusion

Although I didn’t love Weyward as a novel, its structure— interweaving of three generations of women—was deeply inspiring. It immediately brought to mind my own maternal lineage and the stories that connect us across time. The book reminds us that family stories are never static; they evolve as we reinterpret them in light of our own experiences.

For genealogy lovers, this raises compelling questions: What patterns have you unconsciously carried forward from your ancestors? How much of who you are has been shaped by those who came before you? Which aspects of your family history inspire you, and which patterns would you choose to break?

While Weyward may not resonate with everyone, its exploration of family, legacy, and identity offers plenty of room for personal reflection. Perhaps the greatest legacy is not the resilience we inherit but the resilience we cultivate by learning from the past. Genealogy invites us to explore these stories, reflect on their meaning, and use them to shape a more empowered and intentional future.