"It was the kind of snow that brought children running out their doors..."

Hey Megan,

First things first: I love the author's name. Eowyn Ivey. Not only does she have an awesome last name, but she shares a name with the slayer of the Lord of the Nazgul (LOTR nut up in herrrr).

Cool fan art of the snow child

Now that my nerdy observation has been made, I'll get serious. I liked this book. It's not my favorite, but I did enjoy it and recommend it to a friend. Were I at a different point in life--namely, that baby-craving stage--I think this book would resonate with me more. Since I am years (and may milestones like, hey, finding a man and getting married) away from even considering having children of my own, I could not relate to that yearning and emptiness felt by Jack and Mabel.

What I thought was brilliant, though, is how she sets you up for the ending throughout the entire book. Ivey sets a somber tone from the start, as our first introduction to the lives of Jack and Mabel is desolate, hopeless, and dark.  The two set off for Alaska in hopes of evading their sorrows and starting anew, and instead find that new trials pile atop the old.

Even when the impossible happens and a child materializes from the snow, and their immediate lives improve, the author leaves no room for optimism.  Even as they begin to fall in love with this snow child, Faina, who is as fickle and fleeting as a winter wind, Mabel is haunted by the fable from her youth.  For a snow child is precious, and no matter how long she stays or how much you love her, she will leave, without warning, when you least expect it.  Her end is sudden and final.  So both Mabel and reader are constantly guarding against this moment, heeding the signs of the stories.  Past children have melted when their fox is taken from them, when they allow themselves to grow too warm, when love creeps up unexpectedly.  All these milestones come and pass, yet Faina remains.

When the moment finally comes, it is just as the stories say.  One moment she is there, and the next all that remains is her blue coat and red snow-drop patterned scarf.  The tale is done. As someone who doubts they could ever see a story of their own through to the end, I appreciate and admire the foreshadowing and consistency Ivey has in crafting this tale.  We, the reader, know what will happen from the start, and though the author keeps her promise it is no less shocking. I do, however, think it would have had a greater impact without the epilogue--yet as someone who likes things to be neatly wrapped up in the end, I did appreciate it.

Now, however, I need to research that Russian fairy tale for myself, especially since it sounds like a perfect winter-time story for my kids--students and babysitting charges.

Keep Calm and Read On,
Becca