Liam Higginson’s The Hill in the Dark Grove is a gorgeously written folk horror with a compelling atmosphere of mounting dread. At sixty-five years old, Carwyn is facing the knowledge that the farm his family has owned in the mountains of northern Wales will likely end with him. Rhian, his wife and partner since they were teenagers, had the brilliance to go anywhere and do anything with her life, if only she hadn’t fallen in love with Carwyn, his family, and with working the farm. Mountain life is hard but not harsh – at least not harsh in a way anyone with a rural upbringing wouldn’t recognize – but forest figures some might call myths are never far from the dark crags of this landscape. The perils of sheep farming all seem to come to a head at once, making Carwyn and Rhian fear they might be living under a curse.
For as long as Carwyn can remember, his family’s land has coughed up trinkets from eras past, including a figurine with odd energy which makes him not want to keep it in the house. Then the overgrown lower pasture reveals itself, and Carwyn believes he’s found the secret to saving his farm. Rhian wants to support her husband’s new interest in the field he’s avoided his whole life, but when curiosity descends into obsession, she has to decide whether she can trust this new version of the man she loves.
I’ve rarely felt so engulfed by a reading experience. Even as my fear built over what was to follow, I could not stop turning pages to find out what would become of this couple. Liam and I spoke via email about the parallels between Welsh and Native storytelling, the importance of Welsh voices telling Welsh stories, and what it’s like to be an outsider artist. Our conversation below has been edited and condensed for clarity.
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