Whiteout
(The Order of the Strawberry Circle, #2)
By Susanne Schmidt
I’ve often said I don’t read Young Adult books because I have a hard time relating to the issues young adults often seem to consider important. More recently, I’ve come to realise it’s probably more because I just don’t know anything about kids. It kind of amounts to the same thing, but there’s a shift in attitude that’s worth noticing – especially when I’m going to comment on a YA book.
In fairness, this might even be a children’s book, depending on where the lines are drawn. Jo, our main character is eleven years old.
It should also be mentioned that I’m no aficionado of Horror. I like the idea of it, in theory, but I’m often too much of a chicken to knowingly pick up a horror story and start reading. This too deserves mentioning here, since Whiteout is also a horror book.
So here’s me, a grumpy old fart who likes to sit in his comfort zone and complain about the world outside, and I’m reviewing a children’s horror story. You’d be forgiven for raising your eyebrow and questioning my judgement.
You’d be right, of course, but in light of how good Whiteout is, all my prejudices and reservations are torn away by the howling winter gale.
Whiteout is the second book in The Order of the Strawberry Circle, and the first book, Bad Grains, is one of the books from last year’s SFINCS competition that left a strong enough impression that I picked up its sequel a year later (it wasn’t released yet when I finished Bad Grains).
So what’s it about, and what makes it so good? Why do I think you should read it?
Sure, valid questions.
Whiteout begins a few weeks after Bad Grains ended. Christmas is just around the corner, and Fels is even more grey and rainy than it was back during Halloween. It’s colder too. There are school tests to study for, bullies to avoid, Christmas cookies to bake, and an impending invasion of fairytale monsters to be seriously worried about. As always in stories, there are complications.
What elevates Whiteout (and Bad Grains) above other contemporary fantasy and YA (I’ve not read enough horror to compare) is the mood and the atmosphere. Fels, the little Bawarian town where the story plays out, is described as an almost painfully ordinary place, where everything is normal, boring, and nothing upsetting ever happens. Not an exciting place, but a place that prides itself on being safe and reliable – not weird.
Despite this, the author manages to infuse the pages with a wintry chill and a Christmas spirit real enough to reach out and touch – and I read this sitting in the sun on my balcony in early May. Perhaps it’s because Fels is very much like the tiny town in southern Sweden where I grew up, but it’s all so tangible I can smell it. From the rain to the darkness to the lights in the windows.
The horror/fantasy aspect of the story is also compelling. What we get here is both familiar and a little bit twisted. I’m not well versed in the details of German folklore, and the author admits in the foreword that they took some liberties with the old stories, but at the same time, it’s clear where the roots are.
I won’t say more. Read it yourself and see.
What I’ll whine about
The ending. It’s not that the ending is bad, rather the opposite. It’s a slow punch in the gut and you can’t believe it actually hit you just where it hurts the most. I did not see this coming.
It’s the kind of ending that sticks around in my head and that I keep thinking about. I guess this is part of the horror aspect of the story, and maybe another reason I don’t read horror.
There’s food for thought in the ending (in the entire rest of the story, too), and I keep asking myself if you can really end a children’s book like this. Then again, Tove Jansson did it, and she’s the greatest author ever, and no, that’s not up for debate.
At the same time, an ending like this makes it abundantly clear that the author is not afraid of following her vision and telling the story as it deserves to be told – without trying to please anyone but herself, and that’s worth admiring.
What I’ll gush about
I already made my thoughts on the mood and atmosphere of the story clear, so I won’t go over that again. Suffice to say it’s fantastic and the book is worth reading for that alone.
The adults. Sad as it is to admit, the adults overall are much too relatable. When faced with the possibility of approaching danger, their reaction is to tell themselves and the children it will probably be fine and not to worry too much. They cling to the hope that things will sort themselves out on their own if you just stay safe and do as you’re told. Too real.
Final Words
Despite the ending, I’d love to get my niece a copy of this YA/Children’s Horror novella, if only she spoke English.
