sky lavender and cornerless

no cambridge ladies here

Excuse me, Ned Stark, but winter has not come

with one comment

The forecast does call for 3-5 inches by tomorrow, though. But it will all melt, and be washed away with the 40+ degree weather and rain on Monday. This is the mildest winter I can remember (not saying much, since I spent 2004 – 2008 in Montreal), and the precipitation and cold weather never seem to match up. Lame!

So here’s a reading list to put me in a wintry mood, since actual winter isn’t delivering.

The Long Winter, by Laura Ingalls Wilder, is the mother of all winter books — at least in my small world. This, along with On the Banks of Plum Creek, was my favorite of the Little House books, and solely because the DRAMA of the SNOW and the COLD was just so absorbing. I would hope so hard for a winter that would require us to build tunnels in the snow to get from one place to another. (And therein lies my fondness for The Arcade Fire.)

Pete Hamill’s Snow in August was one of the first grown-up books I read. Which is a little misleading, because although it was published for adults, the protagonist is a child. I remember being completely enchanted by the story – it was my introduction to the golem legend as well – and so it deserves a reread.

Snow Falling on Cedars and Smilla’s Sense of Snow are both books that I remember seeing on my parents’ nightstand, and remember my Dad recommending to everyone. Probably even me, even though I was about 12 at the time. I was intrigued by them, and I maybe even read the first few pages, but ultimately The Baby-Sitters Club and Animorphs held more thrall for me. Now that I’m a grown-up myself, it’s high time I actually see what all the fuss was about all those years ago.

Orhan Pamuk’s Snow first came to my attention while I was working at Hamish & Henry, a small bookstore in a small town about fifteen minutes’ drive from my hometown of Jeffersonville, NY. H&H is sadly now defunct, but I owe a lot to Sue and Jeff, who employed me, and Carol, Jeff’s mother, who was basically a surrogate book grandmother. She probably bought this for me on my birthday book spree (it was a summer job between college semesters, and my birthday was in the summer), and recommended that I read it on a hot, hot day, as Pamuk’s prose so strongly evoked winter it would cool me right down. Since I’m missing winter now, it seems just as appropriate.

I picked up Eowyn Ivey’s The Snow Child and Stephen Emond’s WinterTown at BEA last May at the Hachette booth. I really enjoyed Emond’s HappyFace, mostly because I love the fusion of text and art to tell a story, so I’ve been looking forward to reading this, but I made the fatal mistake of putting it on my bookshelf. I don’t read books on my bookshelf! I read books on my nightstand, in my bag, readily available, or with a due date at the library. But I should totally read both of these soon. Particularly The Snow Child, since it fits in with my Sirens reading goal (as many retold tales as possible).


Written by Emily G.

January 20, 2012 at 10:21 am

Posted in books, lists

One Response

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  1. I would hope so hard for a winter that would require us to build tunnels in the snow to get from one place to another. (And therein lies my fondness for The Arcade Fire.)

    And this is why we are so compatible.

    Julie (@chthonian)

    January 20, 2012 at 8:50 pm

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