This book skated along an icy path that glimmered with beauty and distance. Beauty because Novik has a lovely voice that rings clearly throughout her books, and distance because I felt oddly cut off from the events of the book, as if I wasn’t meant to fully connect with the characters.
Expanding on that, the differing perspectives threw me. Whenever they changed, there was no sign we had leapt to a new character until the narrative showed its difference in tone or the character mentioned certain things you knew only that character could know. I recognize that Novik did this on purpose – it was an artistic flair she wished to toss into her story, but it rankled me. I’m heavily biased to single perspective stories. Though I did eventually warm up to the style.
Saying that – I love the magic and myth that surrounds the world. Novik’s writing is blunt and well done, as cold as the Staryk King and as passionate as the demon. The imagery was crisp and spell binding, though I found some of Novik’s phrases difficult to follow. Ah, curse the writers who twist the creative boundary in the name of their art! (I do it, too….I think all us writers are guilty of this, some more than others).
The theme of family ties and love outside of the realm of lust was the true strength of this novel. Everyone’s desperate grasp on tenuous survival kept me hooked, though I wasn’t as addicted to this book as I was Uprooted.
The romantic in me wishes for more physical satisfaction from the characters, though I understand why Novik stepped away from such matters – love grows from a deep chamber in one’s heart, not from the heat of one’s skin. Her story did not need the traditional kiss. It only needed her characters to blink and clearly see each other and their unique strengths.
Spinning Silver was an enjoyable, chilly read for me, though I did find it lacking compared to Uprooted.