I was overjoyed to hear that Eowyn Ivey's novel about homesteading in Alaska was a finalist for a Pulitzer. After devouring this book last spring, I contacted Eowyn about visiting my school (just over 100 miles from her home in Chickaloon). Eowyn eagerly offered her time and generously spent the afternoon sharing her writing experiences with excited high school students. She is such a lovely, down-to-earth woman, and I am so grateful that her beautiful writing represents our state so accurately. (I really wanted to ask her if she would be my friend, but I felt sheepish as I knew this book was taking her to the big time.)
The Snow Child appeals to the do-it-yourself mentality nestled in the hearts of so many Alaskans. I would wager that I share similar utopian dreams with several of my fellow residents; dreams that entail building a cabin away from society, subsisting on what the land gives, isolated but sustained by the calm beauty of winter's Northern Lights and the energizing force of summer's eternal sun.
TH and I went through a phase about two years ago when we would announce, "Homestead!" every time something bothered us (work, the state of our country, close-minded conservatives), imagining a life in which we retreated far into the woods. Civilization's triviality would mean nothing; only survival would matter.
But then I would envision a life without wine, travel, and the internet. TH would contemplate his existence sans beer, Siracha, and televised sports. And we would both realize that we are quite content with our happy-medium life in our small-town cabin, where we seem to have the best of both worlds.
Question: Have you read "The Snow Child"?