I had a quick dip into this last night and finished it this morning, as it’s quite big print, a page-turner, and the last twenty pages are an extract from another of Anita Shreve’s books. I thought I had another few minutes’ reading to enjoy, and all of a sudden the story ended! Of course I have come across this before, but I forget about it until it happens, and then I always find it mildly irritating, because I feel I’ve been short-changed in my expectation of when the story I’m currently reading is due to end. “Light on Snow” is a really well-handled tale, though, and I thought it was powerfully told. I read it because someone had mentioned to me comments on it by a writer called Mark Oakley, and the book then turned up in the post. I found, when I read it, that I didn’t agree with all that Mr Oakley said, but one thing in particular stands out for me:
“Freedom is what we do with what has been done to us”.
I think, from having read Nelson Mandela’s “Long Walk to Freedom” years ago that he, imprisoned for 27 years for his beliefs, would agree with that. Without Anita Shreve labouring the maxim, that is what comes across in this book.
The voice is that of a twelve-year-old girl, set back in time but written in the present tense. Page two sets this voice in context:
“I am twelve on this mid-December afternoon (though I am thirty now) and I don’t know yet that … ”
The girl, Nicky, has had a traumatic life, and the book centres on how she handles new drama (or is it more trauma?) as unexpected events unfold and she, not her father, with whom she lives, is first to come to terms with the emotional demands of the situation. I don’t know Anita Shreve’s other books, but this story crystallises round the strength of women, even in girlhood, and also their desperation in motherhood and loss. The book is dedicated to the author’s mother, which I found quite moving. Perhaps she is the grandmother of the story, who is beautifully portrayed.
I haven’t talked about the book’s title, but it’s wonderfully appropriate. The actors in the drama that possesses these characters are trapped by snow; the snow is what makes the events of the story possible. It can hide the participants, protect them, maim or kill them. In this world where, likewise, emotions are frozen, light comes into lives marooned by snow and by grief. There’s a clever detail where the girl, Nicky, takes pretend photographs of the new light.
Set against the whiteness of the snow and the intervention of light are harrowing images of blood and death; but nothing is over-dramatised. The house where they live is isolated and snow-bound; but the nearby town is homely, and the people matter-of-fact, kind in a practical, non-interfering kind of way. The development of the day-to-day relationship between the girl and her father underlies a deeper change for them, and in this seismic change is the substance and sustenance of this book. Definitely a good read, mainly for women, I think, unless male readers wish to delve into the details of childbirth and female adolescence!