Don't Let the Forest In: A Masterclass on Creating the Unreliable Narrator

Or an essay simping over CG Drews.

Don’t Let the Forest In by CG Drews was one of my favorite books of 2024. Though I could identify the iconic aesthetic of Paperfury’s Instagram page, I hadn’t felt compelled to pick the book up until I spotted it in my school library one fateful morning and devoured it in a 5-hour schoolday, ignoring homework and lunch to finish this wrecking ball of a novel. I remember insisting I needed to finish the book before gymnastics practice so I wouldn’t be distracted on my events, but my heart would speed up every time I turned the page, afraid to see a word worse than “The End”— “ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS”.

Nothing felt right and I lived for it.

Andrew and Thomas blended romance, comedy, dark academia, and botanical horror into a smoothie that I gorge myself on daily. Andrew’s short jokes are peak and Thomas’ drawings made my heart pound (in a good way, I think?). But it’s their love for each other that really cemented my love for DLTFI.

Have you ever heard of the “cannibalism as a euphemism for love” trend going around, especially in poetry? It’s that, but worse. It’s “you don’t need a heart because we can share mine”. It’s “I want to crack open his ribs and live in the crevices of his lungs”. It’s a terrible, all-consuming passion between two schoolboys rooted by the monsters that haunt them.

We read the book through Andrew’s eyes. High school senior Andrew writes twisted tales for his best friend Thomas to illustrate— until their monsters come to life. Together, they spend sleepless nights fighting off these eldritch beasts so their school stays protected.

But no one is saved from the forest.

What are Unreliable Narrators?

As the name suggests, unreliable narrators are compromised storytellers, either intentionally or unintentionally. They aren’t credible; we know this, but we don’t truly realize to what extent until the art is over and you’re left wondering if you’re even awake.

How are narrators unreliable, though? When the narrator themself doesn’t know that they aren’t telling the truth, or the full truth, the reader feels as confused as the narrator. It’s effective because we barrel on with all the confidence of someone who doesn’t see the full picture, but feels that what we’re looking at is not just a small piece, but the completed puzzle. Andrew trusts his senses— but should he?

We’ve gotten used to trusting our narrators, but they are only themself. We forget that they may be wrong. We forget that the narrator is not the author. We forget that we are not the narrator. The unique thing about DLTFI’s relationship with its unreliable narrator is that it’s written in the third person POV. Usually, a narrator’s ability to tell a subjective tale relies on becoming one with the reader. However, CG Drews managed to pull us into the world of Andrew Perrault without the first person POV. Suddenly, we’re the ones fighting monsters. Suddenly, we’re the ones consumed by love.

But as we get further and further into DLTFI, we are slowly engulfed in a feeling of strangeness, in an itch of “He had no idea what she was talking about” (a direct quote from Andrew). We acknowledge that Andrew doesn’t have the full picture, but because we don’t have the full picture either, we flip the page, build the puzzle, and cross our fingers. We fall in love with Andrew and Thomas.

We fell for our unreliable narrator.

What Makes a Narrator Unreliable?

Beware: (light?) spoilers ahead! If you haven’t read DLTFI yet, skip to the next heading, Why You Should Read Don’t Let the Forest In.

Some narrators lie to their readers on purpose, but as we’ve established with Andrew, he doesn’t even have his own full picture. Ultimately, Andrew is relying on his senses and his memories— or the lack thereof. Why is Dove ignoring him? Why are his relationships, platonic and romantic, shifting so much? Where are the monsters coming from?

Side note: while I was reading the book, I definitely labeled it as fantasy-adjacent, but after finishing it, I can’t decide if it is or isn’t magic. My instinct tells me that the forest and the monsters were metaphorical— much like some things in Andrew’s life, they’re hallucinated. I’m not sure what this means in the overall scheme of things, but this made me wonder if anything was ever real for Andrew.

Andrew is unreliable because he’s not telling the truth. Why? Because he doesn’t know the truth.

He thinks his sister is alive, so we think his sister is alive.

OR:

He thinks Thomas came back to school.

Our interpretation of the ending depends on who we trust. Do we trust Dove, or do we trust Thomas? I’ve spent hours scouring the web, from Goodreads to Reddit, and it seems that the general consensus is that Thomas is telling the truth, because Dove never interacted with anyone other than Andrew at school. The book also ends with evidence that Thomas is telling the truth— but the book also ends with the murder of Thomas? Even though Thomas speaks? HUH? But CG Drews intentionally said “he”, so it could have been Andrew talking to himself, or hallucinating Thomas’ response.

See, this is peak unreliable narration. I’m so hung up on this book. Hazelthorn delivered as much, if not more, than DLTFI, but I’ll hold off on publishing my essay on that book until after its release in October (I’M SO EXCITED).

Why You Should Read Don’t Let the Forest In

If you love passionate romance, dark academia, horrific beauty, and the thrill ride of not knowing, you’ll love Don’t Let the Forest In. There’s something about CG Drews’ specific brand of botanical horror that has me in a chokehold. Please don’t let go.

It’s only March but I’m so excited for October because I’m doing a Hazelthorn week of nonstop Hazelthorn content leading up to its release date. Be prepared for all things CG Drews for a very long time.

If You Loved Don’t Let the Forest In:

Let me put you on some more YA Dark Academia books, including, of course:

Hazelthorn by CG Drews: a hate-to-love story between Evander, a boy locked in his room, and Laurie, the boy who tried to bury him in the garden. When Evander’s guardian (Laurie’s grandfather) dies, Laurie’s greedy family swoops in, hungry for control over the estate. Evander hates Laurie for trying to kill him when they were kids, but Laurie may be his only ally in the estate of Hazelthorn, which had been unexpectedly left to Evander in the will.

Boys with Sharp Teeth by Jenni Howell: a “They’re wicked. She’s worse” mystery/thriller exploring revenge and twisted philosophy. Jamie lies her way into a prestigious school to discover who killed her cousin, but she soon falls into something dangerous with her cousin’s friend group, the elite of the elite: Henry, Graves, and Baz. But it’s not just the people she has to watch out for. There’s something in the mirrors…

Thanks for dropping by <3