Forests were once the refuge of those who stood outside society: bandits and fugitives, hermits and dangerous sages. Popular folklore placed there the wild men, shapeshifters, hairy monsters and fierce beasts such as the bear, ancient king of Europe. In earlier times the forest inspired both attraction and fear. It stood opposed to the apparently safe and ordered world of towns and villages, a place entered only by charcoal burners, woodcutters and hunters. Today, when most people live in large cities and so few mature, relatively untouched forests remain, the forest is perhaps more misunderstood and idealised than ever, burdened with all manner of redemptive and benevolent qualities far removed from the dangerous woodland of old.

Whatever the case, few places —perhaps none— occupy such a prominent role in legends and folktales. Forests shelter malevolent figures such as the witch of Hansel and Gretel and the wolf of Little Red Riding Hood, but also helpers and benefactors, like the magical daughter of the ogres or the White Bear King Valemon. Yet everything in the forest is touched by ambiguity. It is a place of crossroads, where boundaries dissolve and paths are lost. What appears benevolent one moment may become dangerous the next, as with Mother Holle, who seems to echo the powers of an older divinity, or the ancient Baba Yaga, one of the most fascinating figures in European folklore.