Wednesday, October 13, 2010

The Ice Queen

I loved this book. Loved it for its protagonist, its story-telling rhythm that aches to be read aloud, and its wild Grimm-like fairy-tale descriptions. I feel so akin to her character, and I wish that her words were mine. I am lost for words on this one, so I'll say it again: I simply loved this book.

p. 23: "It was my first cry in a long time, and I overdid it. I sat there sobbing, shudders running through me. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by everything, a wreck, true enough. My hair had fallen out in clumps and there was that dreadful clicking noise in the back of my head. I still wasn't able to hold down solid food. The doctor had told me the symptoms were similar to someone suffering from radiation poisoning. That's how I felt--to my bones, to my toes--poisoned. All down my afflicted side there was a wrenched sort of feeling, as if something had been twisted. A short in my electrical system, I supposed. My very essence, my inner self was gone. I reached for things and couldn't feel them. It was as though everything solid had slipped away from me. Inside, my heart felt frozen."

p. 160: "I thought about the way old blind women in stories found their lost loves and recognized them even though fifty or a hundred years had passed, even if their husbands or lovers had been turned into stags or monsters. I thought about how the familiar imprinted itself on you--a hedge, a scent, a touch. If someone had taken a photograph of Lazarus and me together and pinned it to a wall, anyone who'd seen it would have thought, They aren't meant for each other. They don't belong together. So we didn't take any photographs. I had questioned how it was possible for this man to love me all along, but I had finally begun to understand the reason: I knew him. If he came to me as a bear or a deer, I would still know him. If I were blind, if it was at dusk, if a hundred years had passed, I'd still know."

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