The Snow Queen by Michael Cunningham
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Life: a wondrous, glorious gift to be received with gratitude and used with gusto; also, so very ordinary.
I almost gave up on this book. Nothing much happens. Lots of internal dialogue. Until I got it, and then I got it in the gut.
“There’s the burden of gratitude. She hadn’t expected that. There’s the feeling that, having been granted this impossible gift, she ought to do something with it… There’s no reason for her to do anything more, there’s no rule, but now her days and nights feel too small. Something more must be expected; something more must be owed” (p158).
And this…
“It’s hardly ever the destination we’ve been anticipating, is it? Our hopes may seem unrealized, but we were in all likelihood hoping for the wrong thing” (p253).
So what’s the point? Love. Companionship. Something to occupy your time and feed your soul in some way. It doesn’t have to be grand. It just has to be enough.
