Customer Reviews

The Snow Fox: A Novel

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(7)

 

 

I'm a Vietnam vet. I don't usually read novels. I read Buffalo Afternoon. Now I look for Susan F. Schaeffer's novels. I bought this one before it came out. I was surprised, I thought it was great. I was up late reading it and finished it in a few days, this is very fast for me. How does this woman know so much about war? This book too makes you remember what war really was. And the love story...well women can be pretty tough, and the woman in this book is something. I don't think I'm going to forget her. What I've learned in my life is that life is hard but there are always great things that keep you going. Susan F. Schaeffer looks at life the way I do. Read this book, man. Next I will reread Buffalo Afternoon. That's MY book! But this is my book too. Ten stars, let's not be stingy.

Schaeffer paints an elegant portrait of Japan, a world of noble lords, samurai and beautiful ladies whose faces are always hidden from view. When, in 12th century Japan, the samurai, Matsuhito, is ordered to guard Lady Utsu against attack in her palace quarters, he becomes enchanted with her legendary beauty and the quality of her poetry. The two become lovers. Later, when a daughter is born, Lady Utsu sends the child away to be raised away from the court intrigues. It is this girl who grows up to write of the great love between the lady and the samurai, who can love no one else.

Matsuhito fights at Lord Norimasa's side for many years, until the Lord's death. The samurai thinks to return and search for Lady Utsu, but she has fled the palace with only her pet fox for company. In the following years, Matsuhito wanders north, towards the mountains and the snow. He acquires a horse and, later, a fox, the three of them moving up the mountains. He is content with his memories, but quietly yearns for the Lady Utsu. Eventually, the samurai falls ill. He stumbles upon a hut in the snow, occupied by a woman who lives alone. Sharing their secrets and dreams, the woman and the samurai realize that fate has given them another chance; thereafter, the lovers experience an affinity far more precious than the passion of their youth. Together they endure everything that comes their way, joy, intrigue, happiness and heartbreak.

The author imbues her characters with the quality of myth, living as they do in splendid isolation, surrounded by nature's bounty and beauty. But The Snow Fox is not a fairy tale: rather, Schaeffer writes of the mature love of a man and a woman. With haunting imagery, the author's light-handed touch creates shimmering reflection of the past: the elegant palace of Lord Norimasa, the elaborate, embroidered gowns, the ornate armor of the samurai and the simple beauty of the blossoming cherry trees. All is as beautifully wrought as the sound of Lady Utsu's voice as she whispers the tale of the four children. Luan Gaines/2004.

In the one short week since "The Snow Fox" debuted, I have read this novel twice. Why? Because the book is so compelling in its plot, character development, and beauty of language that I needed to savor it more than once. However, this was not without costs: the closing chapters brought tears to my eyes and heart and the writing, from first page to last, transported me to a time and place from which it was difficult to return.

All of my reactions reflect the particular genius for which the author Susan Fromberg Schaeffer is best known. In "Anya" and "Madness of a Seduced Woman," Schaeffer proved herself a master with few peers in evoking other times and places. Now she has taken on an even more difficult setting, that of medieval Japan. Schaeffer obviously devoted years to studying Japanese history and culture, but her talents as a novelist and poet are never overwhelmed by period details or the Zen-like sensibility that informs the latter part of the book, and her exceptional command of rhythm and image are used to dazzling effect. Wrap yourself in the beautiful fabric that Schaeffer has created in "The Snow Fox" and enjoy what is both a love story of remarkable complexity and a meditation on the meaning of life.

In this most romantic of novels, Susan Fromberg Schaeffer recreates eleventh century court life in Japan, revealing the refined aesthetic sensibilities and the bloodthirsty brutality, the sense of honor and the petty jealousies, the samurai code and the human need for love. In language which compliments the spare writing style of ancient poetry, she reveals the everyday the lives of the courtiers, their relationships within the court, and their behavior during times of crisis--war, plague, sudden illness, and changes of fortune--concentrating especially on two characters--Lady Utsu, reputedly the most beautiful (and dangerous) woman in the court, and Lord Matsuhito, who comes to her as her bodyguard and soon falls in love with her.

As in all romances, the course of love never runs smoothly. Lord Matsuhito goes off to war almost immediately after the love story begins, and returns, a samurai, to find her missing. She, accompanied only by her pet fox, is in seclusion, believing that she is destined to kill everyone she has ever loved. As the setting alternates between Lady Utsu and Lord Matsuhito, and between the court and the countryside, the author broadens her scope, incorporating bandits, peddlers, farmers, and wanderers, along with their daily activities, lifestyles, and concerns, bringing the eleventh century vibrantly to life.

Epic in scope, the novel contains many of the magical elements common to both epics and romances. It is a story of "lost children," heroism in warfare, unknown identities, and two lovers who may be fated to be together, at the same time that it is also the story of secret messages, dreams and memories coming to life, hidden treasure, coincidences galore, unexpected rescues, animals with human abilities and understanding, and even nature itself helping the heroes.

Though lovers of well written romance may not care about a few weaknesses, some readers may be distracted by the way the story moves from reality to dream and back, sometimes without warning or explanation. The circumstances surrounding a battle and the significance of the outcome are not always clear, and the main characters sometimes seem to ramble around the countryside without much purpose. The dialogue frequently sounds wooden, and the constant foreshadowing of the future can be distracting: "Her comment caused a chill to steal over [him], as if the sun had gone behind a cloud," and "A hawk was circling. Someone would die soon." Still, the novel beautifully evokes a lost time, when nature was pure, heroes had deeply held values and allegiances, and art and poetry were a natural part of everyone's life. They are certainly part of this novel. Mary Whipple

The Snow Fox, that remarkable novel by Susan Fromberg Schaeffer, is a book everyone should read. We read it in our book group and this was the first book discussed that the men liked as much as the women. This never happens. The characters come alive at once and are completely believable. Even the two foxes have personalities of their own.

The Snow Fox begins with Lady Utsu, the most famous court poet of her time. She is ordered by the member of her clan, Lord Norimasa, to kill the man she most loves. She does, and after that, she is changed forever; she becomes cruel to men, probably (I thought) because she no longer wants to damage a man again. But she soon falls in love with a samurai who is Lord Norimasa's most trusted soldier. The two of them are separated by battle and by court intrigues, but after a great deal of time has passed, the two of them are reunited again, largely because each of them has a pet fox, and Lady Utsu, who is known to travel with a fox, is again found by the samurai who loves her. The love affair between the two is completely real--none of that drippy stuff you usually find in novels with romantic plots. The love affair is also very fragile. Both the samurai and Lady Utsu are afraid the happiness they find will not last. He believes this because life has taught him that lesson, and Lady Utsu has learned the same thing. She also (according to me) feels great guilt for the cruelty she has inflicted on men and believes she is sure to be punished. The end of the novel is simply heartbreaking and feels predestined. I don't want to give the ending away, but I didn't want anyone watching me as I finished reading the ending. It was too powerful. I wanted to read it in silence, without distractions.

I am a fan of Susan Fromberg Schaeffer's work. Anya and Buffalo Afternoon were just republished. The three together are a remarkable triad about the suffering caused by the violence of everyday life and the unending suffering caused by war. I've reread The Snow Fox twice--it is an amazingly beautiful book, like all of Schaeffer's--and I reread the other two. You can't go wrong reading War and Peace. But then you can't go wrong reading these three amazing novels. I've never read anything that can touch them. And with the three of them available together--nuclear fission! In the dangerous time in which we live, these three books are essential reading. Schaeffer is one of the few great American writers, and it's about time people started saying so.

Susan Fromberg Schaeffer has long been one of my favorite authors, so I was delighted to discover that she has written and published a new novel. She certainly does not disappoint her fans with "The Snow Fox," an elegantly written, multidimensional saga of 12th century Japan. Her characters, as always, are rich, compelling and three-dimensional. However, their various tales of love, both lasting and ephemeral, brutal civil war, loyalty to the ancient samurai code and to their warlord, Machiavellian politics, plague and illness, the camaraderie of noble soldiers and bandits alike, and the jealousies of beautiful court ladies, prove true the old adage that, "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts." The author weaves here an intricate and complete tapestry - a portrait of three particular characters, set against the backdrop of a beautiful country during the most turbulent of times.

One thousand years ago, while art and culture still flourished in Japan, warlords and their samurais vied for power, turning their land into a bloody battlefield where chaos and anarchy reigned supreme. Lord Norimasa, one of the most powerful of the Japanese lords, was ruthless in his ambition to reunite and stabilize the kingdom. Poetry, art and beauty were held in the highest esteem by Norimasa's opulent court. Lady Utsu, renowned for her extraordinary physical beauty, was a remarkably gifted poet. Lord Norimasa had brought her to court when she was just a child, ostensibly to teach Chinese to Lady Tsukie, Norimasa's wife. The little girl had learned the language from a man in her native village. The royal couple treated the girl as one of their own, until Norimasa took her as a lover when she reached her teens. This entanglement caused never-ending problems between Lady Tsukie and the young woman, who had little say in the romantic attachment her mentor formed for her. As she matured, Lady Utsu also become renowned for her cruelty to men. A later lover of Utsu's, once told her wisely that, "Pain that cannot be endured turns to cruelty. In your life, it has." This man was the samurai, Matsuhito, who was destined to love Utsu deeply all his life. He too was brought to court as a youth by Lord Norimasa. There he trained to be a great warrior and followed his lord until Norimasa's death, many years later, released him from his vows of loyalty and further participation in the ongoing war. These three characters are inextricably bound together throughout the novel and all bear love for the other, in different ways, to different degrees.

The most enduring love and relationship, however, is Matsuhito's and Utsu's. They meet and feel the intense emotions of lovers in the prime of youth, but never reveal the extent of their feelings to each other. War and hardship separate them, seemingly forever. The two do reunite, as is their destiny. They meet in middle-age, so transformed by time that they do not recognize each other physically. However, the spiritual bond and attraction that first brought them together still binds them. There is an additional mystical bond between the two, formed through their pet Snow Foxes - their sole companions in the years of lonely wanderings in the cold northern Snow Country.

The intensity, honesty and extraordinary closeness of the relationship between this middle-aged couple far surpasses the experience and passion of their fleeting time together years before. I think one of the author's primary themes is the transitory nature of all things and experiences. Though some may think the book ends tragically, I do not agree. I rather believe what Matsuhito found to be true as he thinks to himself, "How strange Utsu and Matsuhito both were, each in love with the other, each unaware of how deep their feelings went. Yet in the end, they found each other again. Few people are given such a chance."

The author's prose is as lyrical and poignant as haiku poetry. And indeed, the actual poetry in the book is wonderful. She paints exquisite landscapes with words that evoke images of Sesshu, using a delicate, muted palette and changing to rich, brilliant colors to describe the gorgeous multilayered kimonos and costumes used during the period. Ms. Schaeffer is at her best when developing character and describing emotion in the most subtle of ways, which leave the reader with a sense of loss once the novel is completed. Kudos to SFS on completing another wonderful novel!

JANA

This is the best novel I've read in many, many years. The characters of the lady poet and the samurai are profoundly engaging. I felt I learned a great deal about them, about medieval Japan, and about human love and loss. This is a war story and a love story I will want to read again. It is powerfully and even beautifully written. I don't know how the author manages to get inside the culture and the heads and hearts of her characters, but I am grateful she did.

There are few books for which we would wait on the authors' doorsteps for our next opportunity to be rewarded for our patience. The Snow Fox is that rarity. This is not pulp fiction. It is that occasional explosion of brilliance in an otherwise dimly lit universe of novel writing. Don't share yours with your friends. You'll want to have it to read it again after you've finished with the other brilliant works of this author.

This book sounded wonderful from the online reviews, but I was sorely disappointed. The details were certainly fascinating, but I found the author's style jarring and disjointed. Certainly the grace of Japan is evident in the novel, but my concentration just kept getting derailed by the author's prose.

Whatever the errors in the book, this is first and foremost a long, dull, and pointless story. The protagonist is famously beautiful woman who is too dull and too neurotic to be of interest, a great poetess who writes really mediocre verse (judging by the samples in the book). The book is a struggle to read, so little is happening, and we aren't given any reasons to care about or empathize with the principle characters.

It is set in Japan, and Japan is well described, but the author's understanding of Japan seems no deeper than the descriptions of the buildings, the clothing, and the character names. It reads like the author attempted to combine the plot of "The Tale of Genji" with some samurai movies. As you read it you may think you recognize the sources - "oh, this is a visual from that moment in The Seven Samurai", "oh, this is a scene from The Pillow Book", "oh, this is from the tale of Genji".

Lady Utsu is described as being like a Heian aristocrat? (794 to 1185 AD), but it is set during a period of fighting in Kyoto (?) (hundreds of year later) when the imperial court and the aristocracy (kuge) were often reduced to poverty. The fighting over Kai makes one think of Takeda-Shingen and Uesugi Kenshin during sengoku-jidai Japan, the heroine is worried about her teeth yellowing with age, but high ranking women blackened their teeth until the edo period. Like Oda Nobunage, Lord Norimasa (the military hero) fights against monks, but the author mistakes yamabushi (ascetic esoteric buddhist hermit monks) for Sohei (warrior monks who lived monasteries that were sometimes fortified). And so on, and so on.

But really, the minor mistakes don't matter. Its a poor story, badly told, at great length.