A Wolf Called Fire: A Voice of the Wilderness Novel
“The artwork may linger with readers nearly as persistently as the story and its earnest, heartening message.”
A Wolf Called Fire, Rosanne Parry’s standalone companion to her 2019 hit A Wolf Called Wander, adheres neatly to the earlier book’s endearing outlines: a young wolf, his life disrupted by an enemy pack’s predations, discovers strength and purpose against an unforgiving survival-of-the-fittest backdrop. Whereas the hero of Parry’s previous story sought refuge, primarily, the new book’s main character, Warm, must learn—in opposition to many of his inclinations—both how to lead and how to safeguard those he loves. Readers who enjoyed A Wolf Called Wander, as well as those with a fondness for realism and wildlife tales, will find this latest addition to Parry’s growing library of nature-themed novels a rewarding pleasure.
Early chapters find Warm, a pup, living something of an idyllic, wonder-filled life. Protected by a loving mother and under the watchful eyes of kindly older wolves, Warm is curious about the world beyond his den and eager to learn the ways of his pack. As he ventures outward, Warm’s days are a series of firsts: the taste of meat, a glimpse of stars, the feel of rain. He quickly understands, however, that his fellow pups outpace him in strength and speed. He’s less capable, less bold, less physical than his brothers and sisters. “I am the smallest of us,” Warm acknowledges to himself early on, “the quietest, the most cautious, and I am the last to leave the den. I am the last to feel the wind on my fur.”
Parry traces several vignettes as Warm and his siblings become increasingly independent: a run-in with a mother bear, brushes with a hostile pack of wolves, the thrill of learning to hunt elk. Seasons change, some members of the pack move closer to death, new pups are born. And then disaster strikes when a nearby, ever-menacing group of wolves attacks Warm’s pack, leaving Warm to look after four young pups. Still young and inexperienced himself, Warm hardly feels sufficient to the task, even as his father’s final words—“Carry on”—echo in his head.
The story, of necessity, contracts to essentials: Warm must find food and safety for the pups in his charge, tasks for which he feels entirely ill-suited. He recognizes he has always been more of an observer, less a creature of action than his former pack mates, a deficit that needles him more powerfully than ever. “(The pups) only have me,” he considers with dismay. “The watcher. The one with the least to offer.”
Parry’s novel is at its most engaging when we see Warm confronting his doubts and inadequacies head-on and, in parallel, learning from his errors. He comes to view his watchfulness as a strength, a style of intelligence that compensates for his physical insufficiencies. He discovers, too, the futility of shaming or berating the pups under his care and how much better it is to encourage them through gentleness, to work to their strengths. Warm’s pack succeeds when it pulls together, he grasps, when it acts in concert, whether while hunting or seeking to evade danger. Obstacles become surmountable only through collaboration, an awareness Warm advances for the pack through his own expanding understanding of trust and compassion and forgiveness.
Parry employs a first-person voice throughout; readers experience the world through Warm’s eyes, allowing for a relentless immediacy in Warm’s struggle to survive. The imperatives of existence—food, water, safety, shelter—loom over every sentence in a way that seems both entirely obvious but also, through the filter of Warm’s growing intelligence, interestingly alien. This sense of otherness is reinforced by Parry’s spare prose, an often blunt and unadorned, even lulling style: “I travel lower and lower down the mountains. The sun is high in the sky. The ice wolves will be drowsing in the heat of the day.” Or: “I go on. I follow Swift all day long. I come to a place where elk have nibbled the grass short. I see his tracks on soft ground . . .”
Explanatory matter at the end of the book (including information about wolf habits and conservation efforts, as well as insights on geology and natural history) reveals that Warm’s story has its roots in fact: naturalists at Yellowstone Park studied an actual wolf like Warm two-plus decades ago.
The book is also lavishly, abundantly illustrated by artist Monica Armino; hardly a page goes by without one of Armino’s lovely black-and-whites. The artwork may linger with readers nearly as persistently as the story and its earnest, heartening message. As another wolf tells Warm, “Big is not the only good thing a wolf can be . . . Fierce and harsh are not the only ways to lead.” Undeniably sound wisdom for difficult times.