The Snow Child: The Richard and Judy Bestseller

by Eowyn Ivey

A bewitching tale of heartbreak and hope set in 1920s Alaska. Jack and Mabel have staked everything on making a fresh start for themselves in a homestead 'at the world's edge' in the raw Alaskan wilderness. But as the days grow shorter, Jack is losing his battle to clear the land, and Mabel can no longer contain her grief for the baby she lost many years before. The evening the first snow falls, their mood unaccountably changes. In a moment of tenderness, the pair are surprised to find themselves building a snowman - or rather a snow girl - together. The next morning, all trace of her has disappeared, and Jack can't quite shake the notion that he glimpsed a small figure - a child? - running through the spruce trees in the dawn light. And how to explain the little but very human tracks Mabel finds at the edge of their property? Written with the clarity and vividness of the Russian fairytale from which it takes its inspiration, The Snow Child is an instant classic - the story of a couple who take a child into their hearts, all the while knowing they can never truly call her their own.

• ISBN10: 0755380541
• ISBN13: 9780755380541
• Publish Date: 1 February 2012 (first published 1 January 2012)
• Publish Status: Out of Print
• Out of Print: 21 September 2012
• Publish Country: GB
• Publisher: Headline Publishing Group
• Imprint: Headline Review
• Format: Paperback
• Pages: 432
• Language: English

Reviews

[Bianca]

It was beautiful, but it was a beauty that ripped you open and scoured you clean so that you were left helpless and exposed, if you lived at all. 

A magical tale about a childless couple and the mysterious girl who suddenly appears in their lives after one winter night. Kinda slow, but really beautiful and heartbreaking. ❄️💙

[Whitney @ First Impressions Reviews]

Fond Of

Mable and Jack's neighbors were one of the high points in the story. They felt more developed and dimensional and Ester's vibrancy and boisterous nature added some life that was desperately needed.

The novel was lovingly written and thought the fact that no quotation marks were used for Faina gave it a fairy tale like quality.

Not Fond Of

Jake and Mable, Faina's (AKA the Snow Maiden) surrogate parents I felt were very one dimensional and while their Alaskan farming skills developed nothing else did. Mable remained fretful and jumpy and a complete worrywart and Jack ever wanting to learn but constantly pictured him with glazed eyes and that Homer Simpson "Duh" look on his face. This didn't bother me while I was reading the book, but after finishing and sitting back to digest thought, huh, all they really did was bemoan the fact that they were childless.


I found the novel predictable and repetitive. Faina appears, then she disappears and then reappears again. She was along the lines of a hibernating bear.

Final Thoughts

I wasn't familiar with The Snow Maiden, reading the fable after I completed The Snow Child and thought it was a nice, if simplistic retelling and think it would make a good Hallmark movie.

[Jo]

Originally posted on Once Upon a Bookcase.

I've seen The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey in bookshops for a long while, and that beautiful cover has always caught my eye. More than once I have picked it up to read the blurb, and yearned to buy it. But I was always put off by the fact that it's historical fiction, a genre I don't really get on with, and the literary feel to the story, a style I tend to shy away from. When I saw that The Snow Child was available for review on Bookbridgr, I immediately requested it. A chance to give the book a try, with an incentive to make myself read it - the fact I have to write a review. Now, I so wish I had picked it up the very first time I saw it, because it's ineffably beautiful.

Jack and Mabel, a couple of middle-years, moved to rural Alaska to make a new life. To have their own farm, and leave behind the past, and Mabel's failed pregnancy. But life there isn't what they thought. Work on the farm is hard with very little reward, it's quiet and solitary, and their grief haunts them. When the snow arrives one winter, Mabel is filled with a childish joy, and Jack humouring her, together than build a snowman, and make it a snow child. The very next day, the snow child is gone, and so far the scarf and mittens Mabel put on her. Later, Jack sees a lone child running amongst the trees, wearing Mabel's scarf and mittens. Jack and Mabel are at once over-joyed to have young Faina come into their life, but weary. Where did she come from? Where are her parents? And why is Mabel too quick to remember, and take stock in, a Russian fairy-tale of a child made of snow?

The Snow Child is an absolute wonder. It's a heartbreaking story, but one full of hope and love. It's not a story of explanations, it's one of belief, of putting aside questions and just accepting, one of immense gratitude and joy. Faina comes into the lives of Jack and Mabel when things are at their lowest. The farm doesn't look like it's going to work, and Jack is getting too old to be doing all this hard work on his own. Mabel is in the depths of despair, weighed down by the guilt of being unable to bring her baby to term, and the ineffable sadness that they remain childless. Her depression knows no bounds. But then Faina appears out of the wood, an angel in the snow, and turns their lives around. There is something about Faina, the way she appears and disappears, how nobody else has ever seen her, how there are no speech marks when talking to, or in the presence of her, that makes her feel imaginary, a fairy, a ghost. There is an unreal quality to her, which causes Mabel and Jack to hold on to her even more tightly, in case she disappears. She's their miracle, and brings magic to their home through light, love and laughter; happiness and joy.

There is this enchanting fairy-tale feel about the story, that makes sense as the story is inspired by various versions of the same story; Snegurochka (The Snow Maiden in English), a Russian fairy tale, The Snow Child retold by Freya Littledale, and Arthur Ransome's Little Daughter of the Snow. The Snow Child takes elements from each of these children's stories to create a beautiful retelling. It's a novel to be enjoyed by adults, but has the awe and wonder found in a fairy tale, by weaving in this magic realism.

With fiction, especially fantasy, you can quite easily believe what you're reading, as long as there's a credible back story, despite knowing the stories couldn't happen in reality. With The Snow Child, you're never completely sure whether Faina is a child made from snow or a real child. There are hints throughout the story that could make you think either. The are times when you think she must be human, but other times where her being human makes no sense. As I said above, it's a story of putting aside questions and just accepting - not just for Jack and Mabel, but for the reader, too. We're never given a definitive answer, and in it's way, the story allows you to form your own interpretation - is Faina real or is she not? The title suggests heavily that Faina is, in fact, made of snow, but I think that's more to do with Mabel; when Faina arrives after their snow girl disappears, wearing the scarf and mittens, Mabel remembers the story of Snegurochka that her father told her as a child, and makes a link between the two. A fancy of a woman who so desperately wants a child of her own she believes a fairy tale has come true? Or in fact the impossible made possible?

What's wonderful - and brilliant of Ivey - is that through a letter from Mabel's sister, Ada, which she sends along with the copy of Snegurochka Mabel requested, Arthur Ransome is mentioned. He is a student at the university which their father worked at, and is very interested in the story and had borrowed the book.

I can't review this book without discussing the setting. There is a harsh and brutal quality to the landscape of 1920s rural Alaska. It's not soft, it's not traditionally pretty; it's remote, hard with sharp edges, ferocious, at once scary yet awe-inspiring. It's hard work living there; there is no ready-made farm, Jack has to fell trees of the wood, and then toil frozen earth to get the soil ready for farming in the Springtime. It's back breaking work in the freezing cold. The environment Jack and Mabel live in works, though; we learn in school about pathetic fallacy, where the weather reflects the mood of a character - well, with The Snow Child, the landscape is almost a reflection of the despair and sorrow the couple still feel over the loss of their stillborn child ten years before. They are still grieving, and a distance has grown between them because of their grief. And the mood isn't helped by the fact that life here is tougher than they thought it would be, due to the environment. It's cyclical.

And yet, this isn't a story that could be set in a nice, happy setting; a pretty little snowy village town where everyone is happy and ready for Christmas... Faina couldn't exist there, because her soul, her very essence is at odds with the world she lives in, in Alaska. In a pretty little snow village, her existence, though strange, wouldn't seem as miraculous; something wonderful happening somewhere wonderful is too believable, less fantastic. It's the stark contrast between the ethereal Faina and the savage terrain that allows Faina to be inexplicably enchanting. 1920s rural Alaska is pivotal to the mystery and magic that is Faina. And again with the environment reflecting a character, and also the story, there is a quietness to The Snow Child, like the hush brought by snow, the almost holy, not-quite-silence of a dark wood, that matches the quiet of Faina and her enigmatic temperament.

There is so much more to this story, I've barely scratched the surface. I could go on and talk about how beautiful this book is for several paragraphs more! The story spans years, and there's wonder to discover on every page, but wonder you should discover for yourself. In my edition of The Snow Child, Arthur Ransom's story Little Daughter of the Snow is included. It's a sweet little tale, and I can see how it inspired Ivey, but I have to say I much prefer Ivey's mesmerising and enchanting retelling.I am so, so glad I read The Snow Child, and I can see myself reading it again and again.

Thank you to Headline via Bookbridgr for the review copy.

[Rinn]

Also posted on my book blog, Rinn Reads.

Set in early twentieth century Alaska, this book has a bleak setting, made ever harsher by Eowyn Ivey's fantastic prose. From the very first chapter, the reader has a real idea of how tough life is out there, how remote and isolated everything is, and how hard the homesteaders must work to simply survive. In a landscape like this, family life and happy moods are something to cling on to, to keep you going through the cold, winter months. But for Jack and Mabel, life is difficult. Not only do they have to work through the harsh weather, but Mabel is still struggling to cope with the grief of losing a child a decade past.

Suddenly, a young girl starts to appear around their homestead, and over time they earn her trust. Their longing for a child is evident, and the girl's presence turns a miserable landscape into something magical and wonderful. Ivey's writing is especially effective here - pointing out the beauty of nature, how the snowflakes fall on eyelashes, the many wild flowers and plants, the variety of animals.

The characters are also wonderfully written. Mabel, whilst at first seemingly weak and fragile, proves herself to be headstrong and hardworking. Jack is stubborn and perhaps a little gruff, but softens up. The Snow Child' herself is as much of a mystery to the reader as Jack and Mabel, which gives everything a bit of an ethereal feel.

The relationship between Jack and Mabel is very realistic - they are not a passionate couple, they are an old couple, familiar with each others ways, the initial spark long gone. The Snow Child brings them back together, reignites that spark, and that is one of my favourite parts of the story - seeing these two people, who clearly love each other very much, finally appreciating each other once again. Mabel gains confidence, her grief lessens although there is still a melancholy air about her. Jack softens, the wall between him and his wife breaking down.

Overall, this was a beautifully written book that explored various themes - relationships, loss, grief. I especially liked how all of the Snow Child's speech was written without any quotation marks, as if she was talking directly into the heads of the other characters. It made her all the more mysterious. This should hopefully appeal to many groups of readers - those who like fiction, and those who like something a bit more fantastical.

[ibeforem]

This is not the sort of book I usually pick up on my own. I gravitate more towards heavily plot-driven fiction, and this book is more of a slow walk through the beautiful, snow-laden woods.

That’s not to say it wasn’t good. There was something charming about Mabel and Jack, even if they spent a lot of their time unhappy and wondering if they had made a huge mistake trying to make their home in Alaska. Mabel’s sadness, in particular, is palpable. By moving to Alaska, she’s merely run away from her grief, not dealt with it, and the isolation isn’t improving matters.

My main issue with the book is that I wish the author had either gone all the way in with the magic or not alluded to it at all. Instead, we get this weird mish-mosh of circumstances that lead to Faina being real, yet not real. I think the book would have been stronger if her (somewhat) logical origins weren’t explained, and the reader had been left guessing who, or what, she really is until the very end.

But, when it comes down to it, this was a sweet story, and I’m not sorry I picked it up after all.

[anne]

Can't get past the issue of survival in Alaska.

[Michael @ Knowledge Lost]

Middle aged childless 1920's Alaskan couple build a snow child and the next day they find Faina. The little child fills a void in their life and they spend the whole book trying to make the snow child their own and stop her disappearing when the snow melts. This is a book which is either a magical realism novel or an attempt at a fairy tale, but I didn't find it came together at all. The book is very lyrical but nothing really happened in the book and it felt like a book full of padding without much plot.

[kimbacaffeinate]

The Snow Child is Eowyn Ivey debut novel and it is absolutely breathtaking. Set in 1920’s Alaska, and based on a Russian fairytale this lyrical tale stole my heart. Ivey expertly crafts characters and paints a world that immediately draws you in. Set against the harsh and beautiful landscape of Alaska and laced with magic, hope, and fairy dust; I will never look at snow the same way again.

Jack and Mabel have tried unsuccessfully to have children. After Mabel delivers a stillborn, she is eager to get away, and in their early forty’s they decide to accept a government issued homestead in Alaska. Life is hard as Jack builds their home and then clears the land for farming. Mabel cooks, cleans and sews but this isn’t the life she imagined. She pictures herself helping Jack farm, but he cannot fathom his wife working in the fields. Mabel is uncomfortable around people and especially children, but Jack takes her to meet some of their closets neighbors. They arrive at the home of George, Esther, and their three sons. Mabel quickly finds them to be delightful, generous and experienced homesteaders. Ester is a true woman of wild Alaska. She wears woman’s britches and can cook a moose. Ester is able to draw Mabel out, and the two chat like hens in a coup. Mabel is feeling renewed and hopeful, when the first snow fall occurs. She heads out into the yard and when she sees Jack she lobs a snowball at him. A snowball fight quickly follows and they are soon laughing like children. Mabel feeling young and giddy, asks Jack to build a snowman with her. Despite some reluctance he falls into helping and even carves a beautiful face on the snowman. They realize it looks like a girl, and slowly add a dress of snow, some straw for hair and a pair of red mittens. After, they go inside, for the first time in a long time, they lay together as man and wife. When they awake, the snowman is gone and so are the mittens. Around the base and leading into the woods are a child’s footprints. They see glimpses of a child watching them in the woods, but she runs off when they pursue her. Jack leaves things for her on a log. Winter’s in Alaska can be bleak and dark and sometimes play tricks on the mind. When Mabel tries to tell Ester about the child, she is met with skepticism, even Jack won’t omit what he is seeing. Mabel remembers a tale about a snow child that her father told her and quickly writes to her sister asking her to check the attic for the book. When the book arrives, Mabel becomes even more convinced that they created a snow child. Jack believes otherwise, but knows, despite how crazy it seems, that the child belongs to the woods.

The snow child known as Faina befriends them and the tale that unfolds is magical, touching and at times heartbreaking. Ivey surrounds Faina’s existence in doubt, even using punctuation to cast mystery. When Faina speaks there are no quotation marks. The tale spans over many years and shares the hardships and joys of the Alaskan frontier. Ivey’s pen paints images and brings nature to life, while weaving magic throughout. The characters have such depth, and I connected with each of them. I came to love them and Faina. At one point I set the book down, unsure if I could handle an unhappy ending. My curiosity won out, and I was soon swept back to Alaska, soaking up every word. I can tell you that I am glad that I did and that this is a book I will reread again and again.
I want to thank netGalley and Little Brown and Company for providing this ARC in exchange for my unbiased review.