Review: As Simple As Snow by Gregory Galloway

genre: mystery
age: YA
rating: 4/8 tentacles

Good, but not nearly as good as I’d hoped it would be, and with an extremely dissatisfying conclusion. I heard this was John Green’s inspiration for Paper Towns, which is why I picked it up. IMO, Paper Towns is significantly better.

I started out being really interested in Anna and how her oddness and ravenous curiosity would affect our nameless narrator. I enjoyed her mysteriousness, her codes, her postcards. But after finishing the book, I kind of hate her.

There was a moment in the narrator’s first conversation with Anna that made me angry and although I just brushed it aside at the time, I now see this moment as a glimpse of Anna’s true personality. They meet in the school library. She makes some snooty recommendations to the narrator, finds the couple of books she was looking for, and then stands around while he checks his books out. As they walk toward the door he asks isn’t she going to check hers out too? No. She’ll put them back when she’s done. Entitled little brat.

Maybe this got on my nerves because I work in a library and I know how frustrating it is when books aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Does she think she’s the only one that uses the library? The only reader who matters? Does she think that because she’s read avidly that she’s more intelligent and has more right to the books than other students? Does she think the rules don’t apply to her? It annoyed me even more that her behavior seemed to be presented as this admirable rebelliousness when she’s really just being selfish and inconsiderate.

Warning: the mystery is never solved. Is that cryptic enough to imply that this novel provides a dissatisfying resolution without giving anything away? There isn’t really anything to give away. I think if someone had warned me of this, I might not have read the book.

I’ve always liked mysteries. I like the way they let readers in on a secret. They ask a question, and the plot twists and turns as if it were a pathway through a labyrinth, leading readers along, and then finally we stumble into the center of the maze and there is the answer. I love knowing that however complicated the question is, no matter how tangled and confusing it gets, I will always—by the end of the story—understand.

Unless a writer cops out on me and doesn’t bother to really finish the story. Maybe sometimes ambiguous endings work. Maybe sometimes they are satisfying (I can’t think of any examples) but they do not work in mysteries. Setting up a mystery is almost like signing a contract with the reader, promising, “This seems awfully puzzling now, but just wait until you get to the end! Then everything will make sense and you will be kicking yourself for not figuring it out sooner.” When I don’t get answers at the end of a mystery I feel lied to; I feel tricked.

I read this book quickly, but I was never hooked on it, as I was Paper Towns. It’s just okay. If you are thinking of picking this up, I recommend just getting Paper Towns instead.