Snow
by Ronald Malfi
Snow is the only book I've read in recent memory where I can honestly say I detest the author and his protagonist. I ask for patience in advance as I go all-in with my complaints.
Malfi's character, Todd, repeatedly body shames overweight people, infantilizes elderly women, shows disdain for those who need state assistance and who aren't "well-groomed" and "well-spoken," and treats his purported love interest with outmoded sexism. Technically his writing is problematic, with noticeable repetitions: all the blood in the book is black. People's heads constantly "go back on their necks." He frequently chooses the wrong word for descriptions.
On the plus side, the snow monster is an original one, and the way it cuts the town off from the rest of civilization has a wonderful alien creepiness to it. The plot is good and the conclusion satisfying, and I liked the epilogue that tells us our heroes haven't defeated this enemy yet.
Todd constantly picks on overweight people. At least his insults are internal and not said out loud. In the first chapter, he finds himself next to "an enormous man in a Chicago Bulls sweatshirt and cargo pants that looked like they were cut from the fabric of a multicolored circus tent" (2 Kindle edition). I can give that one a pass because it's actually what the guy looks like. But Todd body shames him throughout the entire chapter. "Ha, Todd thought morosely. You have no idea, chubby" (9). Two paragraphs later, he's at it again: "…he was already thinking this fat bastard would wind up sitting next to him on the flight…" (9). Even kids aren't safe from Todd's fitness standards: "Before anyone knew what had happened, one of the kids—a chunky, poorly coordinated boy named Bernie Hambert—" (34). On page 125, Todd is still ruminating about weight: "This chubby bastard is off his rocker, Todd thought." Soon Kate joins the inner fat-bashing: "I could probably wrestle that gun away from him, she thought. He's a chunky son of a bitch but as long as I kept his weight off me, I think I'd actually be able to do it" (139).
Fred and Nan, however, are acceptable in Todd's view because: "The man looked to be in decent shape and the woman still carried with her the vestige of her youth." He further describes the Wilkinsons as: "Well-groomed and well-spoken, he was the type of man Todd would have hoped his own father might have been, instead of the pathetic societal drain that he was. Fred Wilkinson's wife, Nan, was a grade school teacher who also taught aerobics on the weekends. She possessed the lean, sinewy body of a dancer and, despite her close-cropped silvery hair, looked much younger than her sixty-odd years" (67). We don't know why Todd's father was a societal drain. Was he on welfare? Disability? Medicaid? Whatever the reason, it's "pathetic" according to Todd. The Wilkinsons have the right stuff.
Being an elderly woman, Nan is infantilized, "lean, sinewy body of a dancer" notwithstanding. She comforts herself with teddy bears that aren't even hers: "Nan appeared beside him, pressing the side of her face against the teddy bear's furry head for warmth" (53). (I doubt Malfi would ever have Todd use the teddy bear in such a fashion.) Todd doesn't think she can handle reality as well as the others: ""So those are guts?" Kate said. "Those are fucking innards?" "Shhh," Todd told her, and jerked his head in Nan's direction" (60). Fred rubs her head like she's a pet: "He rubbed Nan's head with one hand" (66). And again: "Fred and Nan sat against one wall, a dazed look on poor Nan's face. Fred absently rubbed the back of her head" (70). I object to older female characters not being given agency and power by authors. It's not truthful. Poor Nan, indeed.
On page 91, Todd tells Kate to "Stay here with the girls." Kate takes umbrage, but Todd sets her straight: "I don't care. We're not gonna squabble about women's lib right now, Kate, okay?" This made me so angry I literally threw the book on the floor. (And who even says "women's lib" anymore?)
The repetitions in the book are noticeable and annoying. Malfi can't describe someone's head without having it bend or loll "back on its neck." Blood is by turns black rivulets, black India ink, and a black string. There is no red blood in the book. Long after we know everyone in the town is trapped and that all the folks we see live within its confines, he insists on calling them "townspeople." He mentions two times that Kate smells like Brianna's bed. And the unusual word "scurf" is used over and over.
Then there are the word choices that fall short of being the most fitting ones. Snow is described as being the color of a catfish. What color is that exactly? The color of the light in a room is described as a "sickly azure." Is blue light really sickly? He refers to a man as having a complexion that is "a mottled cobalt hue…" (p 35). Cobalt is a dark, brilliant blue. Is that what he meant to convey?
To sum up my rant, Snow had potential, but the sloppy writing and hate-filled, sexist dialog ruined it for me.