I not infrequently get quite invested in books, and Miss Smilla's Feeling for Snow was one of those that had me:
a) avidly turning the next page, desperate for the heroine to succeed;
b) hiding the book away and looking pitiful at the thought that there were characters who might turn out to be not wholly sympathetic;
c) and glaring at the page, as though this could adequately transmit my disapproval of the book's antagonists.
So, naturally, I had fun! It's a great book, with fascinating central characters, Smilla Jaspersen especially. On the face of it, it's a thriller, a mystery novel; but for me, the success of the book is that it doesn't stop there. I've read my share of detective books, and have tended to complain of a lot of them that the central mystery takes pride of place to the exclusion of anything else – characterisation, setting, political and cultural background – all of which can make for a more interesting, deeper novel with a lot more power. Consequently, I tend to get more invested in the central plotline if the book is good in other ways.
Which puts Miss Smilla's Feeling for Snow ahead of the curve, in my opinion. It discusses Denmark's colonial past and the difficulties of Greenlanders in adapting to Danish society and culture; the demands of 'civilised society'; and also includes the wonderful Smilla, a scientist specialising in snow and ice. The ice is both threatening and comforting; it's powerful but gives Smilla an edge over everybody else. The passages where she talks about ice never appear distracting, and are often quite welcome passages of calm.
I'm reading it more than a decade later than everybody else, but think I can be forgiven, as I was only seven when it first came out. Also, I don't know about anybody else, but when everybody's raving about a book and goes on about how much I'd like it, I just feel too much pressure. I want to read the book on my own terms, and need a bit of distance from the surrounding noise and hoo-hah about it. So, 18 years after it was initially published, I felt able to read this book. So alright world, you win, for it is good.
Now my book choices tend to be dictated by how I feel at the particular moment in which I pick them up. I finished this book on Wednesday.
On Wednesday morning, I happened to fall down the stairs. Miraculously avoiding head, back and all other important things and breaking no bones whatsoever, it nevertheless hurts when one's posterior bears the brunt of a full flight of wooden stairs. Quite a lot, actually!
So when I got home from work (I'm a trooper, me), I felt bruised and woeful and was pretty happy that my latest book order had arrived, containing Diana Wynne Jones first sequel to Howl's Moving Castle, Castle in the Air.
With the small caveat that there were some things that grated with me (the 'comedy' of the protagonist's horror at being faced with a pair of 'fat brides', being one of them), it follows the great Diana Wynne Jones tradition of being furiously awesome.
What's more, while reading children's books as an adult can often mean that you see all the plot twists coming from a mile off, I genuinely did not see one of the key twists in the conclusion of this one. Well played, Ms Jones, well played.
I haven't yet got the second sequel, House of Many Ways, but oh I will! I hadn't realised just how many of her books I hadn't read until I discussed them with a friend who (I believe) has bought every book Diana Wynne Jones has ever written. Aghast at the treachery of my adult self towards my inner child, I resolved to make haste to catch up. So you'll probably be seeing a few more of these on my blog this year!
Alphonse is pretty upset this week, as neither of these books contribute to a challenge at all. Whoops! But next up is Orhan Pamuk's Museum of Innocence, which at a fairly significant 532 pages will certainly contribute to the chunkster challenge. I've been wanting to read this since I heard about it, so this makes me very happy. It's going to be a good weekend, folks!
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