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A review by xterminal
Snow by Ronald Malfi
Ronald Malfi, Snow (Leisure, 2010)
I had Snow, Malfi's most recent novel, on my list of stuff to read in 2011. Then I found a copy at a library book sale, in good enough shape for me, but not for the library. (It had suffered some water damage.) Considering this providence, I bought it for a quarter, took it home, and then tried to resist reading it until 2011. As I'm writing this on October 1, 2010, you can see how well that worked out. I've been hearing Malfi's name around and about for a few years now, but had never checked out any of his fiction before; while it does suffer from a few of the shortcomings common to the genre, that won't stop me from checking out his stuff again in the future.
Snow starts in one of the places in the world that, when you consider horror novels, is the least scary, but when you consider real life, is terrifying—O'Hare Airport. It is Christmas Eve, and a number of passengers headed for Des Moines (actually, all points) are stuck in a snowstorm. Todd Curry, the book's protagonist, attempts to rent a car capable of making it to Iowa in a snowstorm, but finds out the last four-wheel-drive was just rented by Kate, a perky redhead he'd just met in the airport bar. She offers to give him a ride, along with Fred and Nan Wilkinson, an elderly couple similarly stranded, and the four of them head off into the night. Things don't get odd until they get into Iowa, but then they come upon a guy stumbling around in the snow. He says he's looking for his daughter, and our intrepid crew decide to help. But there are things about both his story and his demeanor that don't add up...
I didn't really grasp it until I started writing this review, but there's one monster plot hole in this book that drove me up the wall; after I'd finished the book, I knew there was something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it till just now. Since it involves both the very beginning and the very end of the book, it's impossible to talk about in a review without giving away a major spoiler, but if you do notice it, it'll probably drive you up the wall, too. Which is not at all what I was going to say in the third paragraph. Consider this a diversion.
I've noticed over the years that genre fiction, especially genre horror, is far more plot- than character-based. Having read Snow, I think I'm going to add a third category to this, the pace-based book (think Douglas Winter's Run or the novels of Jack Priest, for example), because while Snow is a plot-driven book indeed, and some of the subplots suddenly disappearing will drive you to distraction, Malfi at least tries to give you three-dimensional characters here, far more so than a Winter or a Priest (or for that matter, the modern master of the cardboard character, Brian Keene—though I rush to add his books are the best guilty pleasures you can get your hands on these days). He doesn't always succeed, and every once in a while you'll run across a character with “kill me” tattooed on his forehead (what Star Trek fans call redshirts), and those tend to be transparent. But put all that aside and what you've got is a fun little horror novel with a pretty durned nifty monster; it's fun, if shallow, and worth a read for genre horror fans. ***
I had Snow, Malfi's most recent novel, on my list of stuff to read in 2011. Then I found a copy at a library book sale, in good enough shape for me, but not for the library. (It had suffered some water damage.) Considering this providence, I bought it for a quarter, took it home, and then tried to resist reading it until 2011. As I'm writing this on October 1, 2010, you can see how well that worked out. I've been hearing Malfi's name around and about for a few years now, but had never checked out any of his fiction before; while it does suffer from a few of the shortcomings common to the genre, that won't stop me from checking out his stuff again in the future.
Snow starts in one of the places in the world that, when you consider horror novels, is the least scary, but when you consider real life, is terrifying—O'Hare Airport. It is Christmas Eve, and a number of passengers headed for Des Moines (actually, all points) are stuck in a snowstorm. Todd Curry, the book's protagonist, attempts to rent a car capable of making it to Iowa in a snowstorm, but finds out the last four-wheel-drive was just rented by Kate, a perky redhead he'd just met in the airport bar. She offers to give him a ride, along with Fred and Nan Wilkinson, an elderly couple similarly stranded, and the four of them head off into the night. Things don't get odd until they get into Iowa, but then they come upon a guy stumbling around in the snow. He says he's looking for his daughter, and our intrepid crew decide to help. But there are things about both his story and his demeanor that don't add up...
I didn't really grasp it until I started writing this review, but there's one monster plot hole in this book that drove me up the wall; after I'd finished the book, I knew there was something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it till just now. Since it involves both the very beginning and the very end of the book, it's impossible to talk about in a review without giving away a major spoiler, but if you do notice it, it'll probably drive you up the wall, too. Which is not at all what I was going to say in the third paragraph. Consider this a diversion.
I've noticed over the years that genre fiction, especially genre horror, is far more plot- than character-based. Having read Snow, I think I'm going to add a third category to this, the pace-based book (think Douglas Winter's Run or the novels of Jack Priest, for example), because while Snow is a plot-driven book indeed, and some of the subplots suddenly disappearing will drive you to distraction, Malfi at least tries to give you three-dimensional characters here, far more so than a Winter or a Priest (or for that matter, the modern master of the cardboard character, Brian Keene—though I rush to add his books are the best guilty pleasures you can get your hands on these days). He doesn't always succeed, and every once in a while you'll run across a character with “kill me” tattooed on his forehead (what Star Trek fans call redshirts), and those tend to be transparent. But put all that aside and what you've got is a fun little horror novel with a pretty durned nifty monster; it's fun, if shallow, and worth a read for genre horror fans. ***