Michael Cunningham's 'The Snow Queen' Is NOT Fantasy But IS Fantastic
By Jaclyn Bauer in Arts & Entertainment on Jun 26, 2014 4:00PM
Michael Cunningham (Photo Credit © Richard Phibbs)
Set mostly in Brooklyn, we are first introduced to Barrett, the self-described ardent and pedantic, yet-to-be-successful younger brother of Tyler, who is a coke-addicted bar singer-songwriter, soon to be married to his nearly dead from cancer lover Beth (whose thoughts the narrator is also privy to). As the novel progresses we come to meet Liz, the 52-year-old owner of the thrift shop that Barrett works in. Liz, a cougar of a lady on many accounts, is also the girlfriend of 28-year-old Andrew, who is Barrett’s biggest crush. Neither Liz nor Andrew is safe from the unnamed narrator’s prodding disposition.
The omniscience that runs throughout the novel’s narration allows readers to not only glimpse, but take deep and heart-wrenching looks into the lives of these very tangible characters. We trace the line of Barrett’s failed attempts at love, of Tyler’s failed attempts at self-assured happiness, of Beth’s small successes and Liz’s triumphs over traditionalism and banality. Truths that other characters are ignorant too, moments that other characters are blind to, become welcome knowledge for readers in Cunningham’s twisted and often disparaging world.
Cunningham weaves whispers of spirituality, questions of mortality, themes of family and lessons on life’s finer, more subtle pleasures. A work infused with passion, hatred, beauty and disgust, I found myself hard pressed to put the book down. Riding the Metra to Chicago every morning, I had the persistent urge as the conductor announced “Now approaching Clybourn” to ditch work, take the train to Ogilvy, hop on a new, random train and ride all day, just reading.
That’s what Tyler would do, or maybe Barrett, and definitely Liz.