The Snow Queen

The Snow Queen is mainly the story of Moon, a young Summer girl who has become a Sybil, a conduit of an otherworldly knowledge, and her cousin (and lover) Sparks. After Moon follows her dreams of becoming a Sybil and Sparks follows his of making it in the Big City, Carbuncle, their paths separate until they fall into the lap of the Snow Queen, Arienrhod. The Snow Queen wants to stop the loss of Winter’s power when Tiamat’s season changes and the Hegemony, the intergalactic association of various worlds, leaves Tiamat as well. The Hegemony has vested interest in making sure Tiamat remains in technology-fearing Summer hands, so when they return in the next winter, they may seize the Water of Life: an extract of an indigenous creature’s blood that halts aging temporarily.

Arienrhod’s plans to maintain power not only entangle Moon and Sparks, but they also ensnare Ngenit, who wishes to stop the poaching of mers for the Water of Life; Gundhalinu, a Hegemonic police officer with plenty of self-confidence and career aspirations; the mysterious off-world consort to the Snow Queen, Starbuck; a casino handler; and Jerusha, the (likely only) female police inspector on Tiamat, whose blind desire for justice blurs into a personal vendetta against Arienrhod. At the center of this lies Moon, who unwittingly carries Arienrhod’s likeness and Arienrhod’s hope.

Tiamat is a gorgeous and well-defined world, from the vice of Winter’s city Carbuncle to the idyllic islands and mer plantations of the Summer lands. The intricacies of the Sybil information network, the rituals of the Change from Winter to Summer control, Hegemonic influence, and the structures of various societies, are detailed and hint at something greater. The best world building isn’t necessarily that which tells you a lot, though we do get many wonderful details in The Snow Queen, but that which hints at even more to come, and makes the universe feel full and populated. This novel does that, not only with various cultures, but various peoples and aliens as well. The world deftly examines the meaning of intelligence, the consequences of indifference, the two-edged sword of Tiamat’s complicated relationship with the Hegemony (an apt metaphor for colonization developing and then stagnating an occupied territory), technology and faith and the interplay between them, and more.

The prose was descriptive, and Vinge is able to establish setting through each viewpoint character’s eyes quickly and expertly. While the occasional info dump and sophistry may bog down the pacing, and the characters’ descriptions of particularly emotional moments becomes very flowery, the prose mostly remains strong, fluid, and easily readable as well as poetic. A mild pet peeve was characters’ tendencies to say something and then think a retort, such as “Piece of dialogue!” Thought I won’t say aloud… However, it is a very minor point, and in the audiobook, it hardly comes to one’s attention.

The novel’s greatest strength lies in its world and prose, but its weakness lies mostly in its characters. Some of them are very fleshed out and intriguing, while others are rather flat, and the romance side plots feel unnecessary, as their outcomes are easily guessed early on. Arienrhod is a wonderful villain. Her desires superficially resemble Moon’s: freedom from Hegemonic oppression, an ability for Tiamat to decide its own destiny. However, this base foundation quickly crumbles into a moral system based around her believed moral superiority, resulting in some truly villainous actions. Moon makes a good counterpoint, and their conservations together highlight these differences beautifully. Unfortunately, Moon also has her selfish moments, and most of the cast bends over backwards to help her (except Jerusha, who is painted as unfair in doing so). Moon is not unlikable, though she can be exasperating; nor is she stupid, though she can be naive. However, she did not strike me as so charismatic as other characters would have you believe.

Similarly, Sparks made for a love interest with squandered potential. His selfishness is addressed, and he has some character growth, but Sparks is a troubled young man with few redeeming qualities. He’s been corrupted by Arienrhod, but he had his problems from the beginning. He seemed like the author was trying to set up a morally-grey character, but it didn’t work out; Arienrhod and Herne filled that role much better. (Also, the extra taboo of the cousin-lover relationship was a poor choice; none of the characters acted as if there was anything wrong, so I feel this was added to make the readers feel the taboo, rather than provide an obstacle to the characters. While it's true they're not genetically related, they didn't know that until years into their lives, and grew up together as siblings—it's a rather strange dynamic, for the same reason the Jace-Clary "forbidden romance" didn't work in

The Mortal Instruments) Ngenet, Gundhalinu, and Tor all examined interesting themes such as being the “lone believer” in the right course of action, sacrificing one’s happiness for that of someone they love, and playacting until identity and fiction become difficult to separate. However, they also remain rather flat; Ngenet is always noble and moral, Gundhalinu is always charismatic and good-hearted, and Tor is a bit of a happy-go-lucky regardless of circumstance.

However, Herne and Jerusha are supporting characters who more than make up for this. Herne’s strange love-hate for Arienrhod made for an interesting inner conflict and a fascinating character with a clear motive behind seemingly disparate actions. Jerusha is a no-nonsense, hardworking officer, and the most-developed character. She goes from hollow obedience to Hegemonic law to an imbedded moral code that leads her straight into Arienrhod’s wrath, and the contempt of fellow police officers. The male vs female power dynamic felt a bit rehashed, but it might be a result of the saturation of feminism in today’s culture that made Jerusha’s insecurities about being the only female Blue on Tiamat her character’s weakness. However, when the right thing to do and the legal thing to do become two different things, and she grows fatigued from the struggle for validation that has been denied to her all her life, Jerusha is left wondering why her career makes her feel so empty when she believes so fully in justice.

All of these characters come together to examine change. The change that made legality different from morality; the change that made self-preservation into selfishness; and the change that may turn rottenness into something new—all these things and more are in the journeys and plots that lie at the center of the Snow Queen’s web, and those who seek to break free of it.