Snowflake, AZ

by Marcus Sedgwick

Ash boards a Greyhound bus heading to the place where Bly was last seen: Snowflake, Arizona. Six thousand feet up in the wide red desert, Ash meets Mona, her dog, her goat, and her neighbors, and finds stepbrother Bly, too.

In their ramshackle homes, the walls lined with tinfoil, almost all the residents of Snowflake are sick. But this isn’t any ordinary sickness: the chemicals and technologies of modern life are poisoning them. They call themselves canaries, living warning signs that humans have pushed the environment too far, except no one seems to be taking their warnings seriously. The healthy “normies” of Snowflake have written them off as a bunch of eccentrics, and when Ash too falls ill, the doctor’s response is “It’s all in your mind.”

Snowflake, AZ contemplates illness and health—both our own and our planet’s. As Ash lives through a cycle of illness and recovery and loss, the world beyond is succumbing to its own affliction: a breakdown of civilization only distantly perceived by Ash and the isolated residents of Snowflake, from which there may or may not be a chance for recovery. This provocative novel by one of our most admired storytellers explores the resilience of love and community in the face of crisis.

• ISBN10: 132400441X
• ISBN13: 9781324004417
• Publish Date: 29 November 2019 (first published 5 September 2019)
• Publish Status: Active
• Publish Country: US
• Imprint: WW Norton & Co
• Format: Hardcover
• Pages: 320
• Language: English

Reviews

[shannonmiz]

You can find the full review and all the fancy and/or randomness that accompanies it at It Starts at Midnight

Marcus Sedgwick sure writes some unique stuff. I won't pretend that this was my favorite of his per se, but it definitely had some thought provoking moments. In the book, Ash sets out to find stepbrother Bly, who's disappeared into this remote community in Arizona (ironically named Snowflake). When Ash arrives, they find that it's a community of people living primarily off the grid, but the reason is surprising. As it turns out, it's because they all have chronic, mostly undiagnosed illnesses and seem to find some respite in this way of life.

Ash was a character who I had some trouble connecting with, especially in the beginning. We're given a precious few details about Ash, and I do wonder if perhaps that was the point? That Ash could (and in a way is) any of us? Regardless, I think I might have felt a bigger pull if I knew anything about Ash pre-Snowflake. But the story of the townsfolk, Ash's relationship with Bly, the illnesses that overwhelm the community, they were all quite compelling.

There's definitely a big element of mental health in comorbidity with chronic illness, which is something Beth's post touches upon. The best part of this book for me was how honest it is about the difficulty of living with a chronic illness. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. The exhausting toll it takes, how doctors brush it off, how the outside world reacts. Even more devastating is the next bit, which needs both a trigger warning and a spoiler warning: Bly, unable to face the rest of his life, shoots and kills himself, leaving Ash to deal with the aftermath. I do wish that this particular piece was explored further, though. I think that while we can understand it all from a surface-level perspective, it could have been followed through with a bit more.

Toward the end of the book, I did feel a better connection with Ash, especially in the relationship they formed with Mona and other members of the community. And while the ending did leave questions unanswered, I thought it did so in an understandable and appropriate way that didn't leave me frustrated.

Bottom Line: Absolutely thought provoking and relevant, but missing a bit of the human connection.