Review: Ice by Sarah Beth Durst
Far to the north in the ice and snow of the Arctic plains is the Eastern Beaufort Research Sea Station, it’s head scientist, and his daughter, Cassandra “Cassie” Dasent. Her grandmother moved away years ago and her mother is gone. To explain her absence, Cassie has been raised with bedtime fairy tales about a Polar Bear King, the North Wind, and his only daughter. The stories are romantic and distracting, meant to ease Cassie’s loss despite her father’s displeasure at his mother-in-law filling his daughter’s head with nonsense. And so the stories are told during stolen moments in the hours when Cassie’s father is busy at the lab, when her grandmother tucks her into bed and orates what Cassie believes to be nothing more than fairy tale…
Ice is the re-telling of the Norwegian fairy tale “East of the Sun, West of the Moon.” I was not familiar with it, not having studied it before, nor do I remember reading this version of the archetype in which the protagonist searches for a lost husband (see: Beauty and the Beast). There are, of course, numerous modern interpretations of this tale, but Sarah Beth Durst’s version was my first. Conceptually, Durst combines the Norwegian fairy tale with Inuit mythology, weaving the Inuit language into her writing as beautifully as she modernizes and tweaks the mysticism of both with the familiarity of Cassie’s Arctic surroundings.
Cassie is a bit older than the typical YA protagonist. At eighteen, she’s technically an adult and quite ready to begin making adult decisions, which is why I think this story is so successful at the start. Her father preoccupies himself with his work to cover his denial about the reality of his daughter’s situation. Even if Cassie doesn’t know, he’s acutely aware of what his only daughter’s endeavors portend. On the outside, Cassie is proving she has the moxie to engage with her scientific roommates, despite not having a degree to distinguish herself from amateur. She’s capable and independent, but most of all: eager to join the important research she’s been surrounded by her entire life. Cassie is exhibiting the signs of feeling ready (showing initiative and impatience); sometimes that’s enough to prove one is capable of handling more complex situations if only in their willingness to be tried.
But layered underneath Cassie’s desire is an entirely different creature called womanhood that competes with her father’s desperation to keep his little girl seventeen forever. To write about Ice in terms of Cassie’s relationship with her father is incidental only to her relationship with Bear. Of course, the father-daughter dynamic is interesting, but not the focus of this book, nor the tale. The consequences of adulthood, especially when filtered through a father’s eyes are extraordinarily painful. As we’re told though, the kinds of relationships one can form as an adult can be rewarding and miraculous.
There is some fairy tale logic that goes into certain elements of the book so some suspension of disbelief is required. Whether the incredulity of fantasy is too ridiculous or a welcome indulgence is entirely up to the reader, but this is a book that cannot be enjoyed without the wonder of Bear’s magic. Or, at the very least, believing in that magic, however weird things become. The first two sections of the book are the most playful, but the moment Bear leaves, I found the text wanting.
Of course, Cassie’s long trek and struggle for survival is vital to the story (and perhaps to the fairy tale), but this part was my least favorite. Durst lingers on Cassie’s discomfort and hardening resolve on a transformative journey that changes the landscape of her relationship with Bear, if the literal landscape remains uniform for many, many pages. Her change of heart was just too abrupt to be completely believable to me, though. Durst did more telling than showing here, having Cassie forgive Bear in a sentence that really seemed to come out of nowhere. I’m still not sure why she was able to change her mind so quickly since I didn’t see any evidence to convince me otherwise. I didn’t feel for Cassie and Bear the same way after that, which is a shame since they really were very sweet together.
The Cassie of the first part of the book was independent, and competent, driven by intellectual curiosity. I was compelled with her refusal to listen to her elders and seek Bear out despite their warnings. Her intoxication with the unknown was irresistible. I was not compelled by the young woman at the end of the book whose focus was finding Bear and having a child. In short: being a wife and mother. She seems to lose so much of the skepticism and objectivity that made the beginning of the book so fascinating. She even lost the ideology that would have demanded more from Bear than a sideways apology in which he gets his way and Cassie just gives in. I was disappointed she didn’t do more to preserve the character she used to be. The leap was too great for me. It was too much too fast.
While this was an engaging read (and a quick one), I think the brevity works against the novel. Durst never really explored the full potential of her fantastically nontraditional approach to Cassie and Bear’s nontraditional relationship. There is more narration telling us what happened and how Cassie is feeling rather than allowing the reader to see these developments happen. It seemed like the story was trying to fulfill a set of criteria before the end arrived, which was too soon not to feel rushed. I would still recommend this to fans of fairy tale re-tellings and readers interested in an unconventional romance, but think others might finding Ice a bit lacking.
Thank you to Simon & Schuster UK for my review copy!
As a reminder, you can read this and my other book reviews at Jawas Read, Too!