Big Snow

I have to just drop a note about 'The Big Snow' by David Park because I am getting sucked in to a John Irving novel that I picked up at the charity shop. I only wrote briefly about his two other books that I read but I enjoyed all of them immensely; interestingly Travelling in a Strange Land is also set in an environment swathed in snow. This book seemed to start with some shorter linked stories about separate people set in the same place: a young man with a first crush on an older woman, two teachers who find solace in each other's company and an older woman searching for a wedding dress, and then segue into a longer one about a murdered young woman, and the young police officer who sets himself at odds with his superiors to try and find out who killed her. Like his other books it is very much about the atmosphere, slightly, almost claustrophobic. 

Here Miss Lewis and Mr Peel are making the best of a power cut in the snowstorm. I love the bit that says "happy to display his expertise", it pretty much sums up Mr Peel's character in this story:

"A piece of toast? Yes, he'd like a piece of toast. There was something a shade undignified about it but he hadn't eaten since his breakfast and, after all, special circumstances ... She lit two of the candles before going to the kitchen and returning with a toasting fork and four rounds of bread and a packet of butter, then set the butter on the hearth to soften. 'Allow me,' he said, taking the fork from her hand and spearing the bread. He hunched forward on the chair, glad of an excuse to pull closer to the fire and happy to display his expertise. This was campfire stuff, real campfire stuff. When he had toasted he passed it on to her on the end of the fork and she transferred it to one of the plates and covered it in butter. He had never known a bit of toast could taste so wonderful. This must have been what it was like in the Blitz - people pulling together, people sharing things. Now it was the elements, rather than the Nazis, they were fighting against but the principle was the same. She hadn't pulled the curtains but all he could see outside was a settling greyness and an occasional spit of flake against the glass. Looking at it only served to increase his feeling of snugness and he lingered over the final piece of toast." (p.128-9)

Stay safe. Be kind. Enjoy the sunshine, let yourself forget about the cold.