Honestly, the first time you pick up The Lie Tree, you probably think you’re in for a standard, dusty Victorian mystery. Maybe some ghosts. A few stiff upper lips. But Frances Hardinge doesn’t really do "standard."
Set in the 1860s, right when Darwin’s On the Origin of Species was basically setting the scientific world on fire, the book follows fourteen-year-old Faith Sunderly. Her father, Erasmus—a disgraced clergyman and naturalist—drags the family to the fictional, miserable island of Vane to escape a scandal. Then he ends up dead. Everyone says it’s suicide. Faith knows better.
What is the Lie Tree exactly?
Most people assume the magical element in the book is just a plot device to solve a murder. It’s not. The Lie Tree is a botanical nightmare that feeds on falsehoods. You whisper a lie to it, you spread that lie until people believe it, and then the tree flowers. You eat the fruit, and you get a vision of a deep, dark truth.
It’s a literal "knowledge comes at a price" scenario.
Faith discovers this tree among her father’s things. He was obsessed with it. He thought it could prove the existence of God or the soul or some bridge between science and the divine. Instead, it becomes Faith's weapon. She’s a girl in 1868; she has zero power. She’s basically invisible. But the tree? The tree gives her a way to burn the whole social structure down.
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Why the Victorian setting actually matters
This isn’t just window dressing. Hardinge leans hard into the E-E-A-T (Experience, Expertise, Authoritativeness, and Trustworthiness) of the era. The 1860s were weird. People were taking photos of dead relatives (post-mortem photography) and measuring skulls to "prove" women were less intelligent.
Faith experiences this firsthand. There’s a scene where a doctor literally tells her that her brain is too small for high-level science because of her skull size. It’s infuriating.
- The Science vs. Religion Conflict: Erasmus is caught between his faith and his fossils.
- The Role of Women: Faith’s mother, Myrtle, uses her "feminine charms" as a weapon because it’s the only one she has.
- The Isolation of Vane: The island feels like a character itself—damp, judgmental, and claustrophobic.
The Lie Tree Hardinge: More than just a YA novel
Back in 2015, this book did something crazy. It won the Costa Book of the Year. That’s a big deal because it was only the second time a "children’s book" had ever beaten out the adult categories. The only other person to do that was Philip Pullman with The Amber Spyglass.
The reason it won isn’t just the prose, which is admittedly gorgeous. It’s the way Hardinge treats her audience. She doesn’t talk down to them. She treats Faith’s anger as something valid and dangerous.
Faith Sunderly isn't your "typical" heroine
She’s kinda mean. Or at least, she becomes mean.
To feed the tree, Faith has to hurt people. She spreads rumors that ruin reputations. She manipulates a local boy named Paul. She’s not a "strong female lead" in the way we usually see in movies; she’s a girl who is being crushed by society and decides to bite back. Hardinge writes, "There was a hunger in her, and girls were not supposed to be hungry."
That line basically sums up the whole book.
The twist nobody sees coming
Without spoiling too much for the three people who haven't read it, the mystery of Erasmus's death isn't just about who pushed him. It’s about the Lie Tree itself and the desperate lengths people go to when their worldview is collapsing.
The book tackles the idea of "Mendacity." If a truth is discovered through a lie, is it still true?
It’s a heavy question for a book shelved in the teen section. But that’s why it works. It’s a gothic thriller, a feminist manifesto, and a piece of historical fiction all mashed into one.
Actionable insights for readers and writers
If you’re looking to dive into Hardinge’s world or you’re a writer trying to capture this kind of atmosphere, here’s how to handle the themes of The Lie Tree:
- Research the "niche" history. Don't just look at big events. Look at the weird stuff. Hardinge uses things like "ratting" (a blood sport) and Victorian mourning rituals to make the world feel lived-in.
- Lean into "unlikable" traits. Faith is more relatable because she feels spite and jealousy. Readers connect with honesty, even if that honesty is ugly.
- Use "Soft Magic" carefully. The tree doesn't have a 50-page manual of rules. It feels ancient and slightly sentient. Keep the mystery alive by not over-explaining the mechanics.
- Connect the setting to the theme. The Victorian era’s obsession with "knowing" and "categorizing" everything (science) clashes perfectly with the "un-knowable" nature of the tree.
If you want to understand why this book still sits on "Best of" lists a decade later, you have to look at how it mirrors our own world. We’re still arguing about truth. We’re still dealing with people spreading lies to get what they want. The Lie Tree is just a very leafy, very Victorian version of the internet.
Start by looking at the historical fossils mentioned in the book—like the Archaeopteryx—to see how real-world discoveries fueled the fictional paranoia of the Sunderly family.
Next Steps:
To fully appreciate the historical accuracy Hardinge brings to the table, look up the "Great Devonian Controversy" or the real-life rivalry between paleontologists in the 19th century. It provides a massive amount of context for why Erasmus was so terrified of being called a fraud.