The Snow Queen Is an Elemental Space Opera

So, if you can’t tell, this is a very Star Wars-y book: very Joseph Campbell, very The Power of Myth, very hero’s journey. I might be grasping at narrative tropes that were obviously common before George Lucas came on the scene (humble farmer discovers a wider world, plays an active role in events that change everything, is tempted by darkness yet triumphs), but it was also published in 1980, three years after Lucas made Campbell a household name. Clearly, this was the narrative we needed in the early ’80s; it resonated onscreen and it works brilliantly on the page.
Broad similarities with other genre entries don’t preclude this from being a great book. In fact, it’s a damn interesting take on the material: Star Wars from a feminist point-of-view. The hero, Moon Dawntreader (seriously?) is a girl, for one thing, and an inhabitant of a matriarchal world perched on the edge of a black hole, a circumstance that has resulted in a cycle in which the planet is accessible to the rest of the galaxy during the 150 years of “winter,” only to be isolated from everything during a “summer” that lasts just as long. Arienrhod (the semi-villainous Snow Queen of the title), is the ruling Winter, and after more than a century in power, she’s concocted a scheme to ensure she keeps it. Moon, destined to be the next Summer Queen, is the target of her machinations, though as the story opens, she’s none the wiser as to her royal destiny. Initially, Moon is motivated by her quest to rescue her lost love, who has been seduced into becoming the Snow Queen’s dark apprentice, but she eventually realizes she has her own greater purpose, motivated by her connection to the women of her bloodline and a great, galaxy-spanning force than unifies the…you know, the similarities really are uncanny.

It’s a lovely change of pace to read a vintage sci-fi novel in which the three primary characters are strong women; in addition to Moon and the Snow Queen, there’s also Police Inspector Jerusha PalaThion, certainly one of the more nuanced female characters in any genre entry. It also creates an interesting mythology (somewhat loosely inspired by the Hans Christian Anderson fairytale), about a world that holds the secret to eternal life, is exploited by a Galactic Empire (erm…), and its Brigadoon-like disappearing act. It’s all a lot of fun, a space opera without a lot of space travel and little in the way of laser fights (one tense showdown involves some flute playing).
Despite the fact that it won the Hugo (and has amazing cover art by Michael Whelan), The Snow Queen has been in and out of print for years, but for its 25th anniversary, Tor rereleased a lovely trade paperback edition with a new introduction from the author. Though she wrote a number of other books, including a sequel to this one, 1991’s The Summer Queen, Vinge was injured in a car accident a decade or so back and has been unable to publish much new since then, save for a few scattered movie novelizations, making it all the more vital we celebrate (and read) her remarkable work.