What do you think?
Rate this book
Moon #1
Moon of the Crusted Snow
A daring post-apocalyptic thriller from a powerful rising literary voice.
With winter looming, a small northern Anishinaabe community goes dark. Cut off, people become passive and confused. Panic builds as the food supply dwindles. While the band council and a pocket of community members struggle to maintain order, an unexpected visitor arrives, escaping the crumbling society to the south. Soon after, others follow.
The community leadership loses its grip on power as the visitors manipulate the tired and hungry to take control of the reserve. Tensions rise and, as the months pass, so does the death toll due to sickness and despair. Frustrated by the building chaos, a group of young friends and their families turn to the land and Anishinaabe tradition in hopes of helping their community thrive again. Guided through the chaos by an unlikely leader named Evan Whitesky, they endeavor to restore order while grappling with a grave decision.
Blending action and allegory, Moon of the Crusted Snow upends our expectations. Out of catastrophe comes resilience. And as one society collapses, another is reborn.
With winter looming, a small northern Anishinaabe community goes dark. Cut off, people become passive and confused. Panic builds as the food supply dwindles. While the band council and a pocket of community members struggle to maintain order, an unexpected visitor arrives, escaping the crumbling society to the south. Soon after, others follow.
The community leadership loses its grip on power as the visitors manipulate the tired and hungry to take control of the reserve. Tensions rise and, as the months pass, so does the death toll due to sickness and despair. Frustrated by the building chaos, a group of young friends and their families turn to the land and Anishinaabe tradition in hopes of helping their community thrive again. Guided through the chaos by an unlikely leader named Evan Whitesky, they endeavor to restore order while grappling with a grave decision.
Blending action and allegory, Moon of the Crusted Snow upends our expectations. Out of catastrophe comes resilience. And as one society collapses, another is reborn.
213 pages, Paperback
First published October 2, 2018
About the author
Waubgeshig Rice
13 books1,574 followersWaubgeshig Rice grew up in Wasauksing First Nation on the shores of Georgian Bay, in the southeast of Robinson-Huron Treaty territory. He’s a writer, listener, speaker, language learner, and a martial artist, holding a black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He is the author of the short story collection Midnight Sweatlodge and the novels Legacy, Moon of the Crusted Snow, and Moon of the Turning Leaves. He appreciates loud music and the four seasons. He lives in N’Swakamok - also known as Sudbury, Ontario - with his wife and three sons.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 4,394 reviews
December 9, 2019
Slow and ominous, haunting and powerful. Fans of The Marrow Thieves- make this your next read.
September 16, 2018
Once in a while I read a post apocalyptic novel, as a change from my usual fare of contemporary fiction and historical fictional and the occasional memoir. They are almost always thought provoking and this one was as well. This is not a complicated book to read. It’s short and the writing is sparse, but it is complex and haunting. On the Rez in this community of Anishinaabe in northern Canada, away from the cities, the people seem to manage to live their lives, feed their families and in some ways keep some of the things from the old ways, some of the language, some of the rituals surrounding hunting and looking out for the elderly. Things are not always perfect and they have had their share of tragedies, but life goes on here until the power goes out and cell phone service dies. All that is left is the emergency generator, but there is only so much gas to keep them going as winter is upon them. People are beginning to panic and the store shelves are pretty much empty. They hunt and tap into the food reserves and share with neighbors. With no means of communicating, they don’t have any idea of what has happened or why. The circumstances are dire and get worse as intruders from the south, come there to survive, seeking refuge, bringing their own desperation as they attempt the unthinkable means of survival.
Even though the book is not long, there is quite a cast of characters, mainly focusing on Evan and Nicole and their family. Auntie Aileen, the oldest in the community was perhaps the wisest and my favorite with her knowledge and hope.
“The world isn’t ending,” she went on. “Our world isn’t ending. It already ended. It ended when the Zhaagnaash came into our original home down south on that bay and took it from us. That was our world. When the Zhaagnaash cut down all the trees and fished all the fish and forced us out of there, that’s when our world ended. They made us come all the way up here. This is not our homeland! But we had to adapt and luckily we already knew how to hunt and live on the land. We learned to live here... But then they followed us up here and started taking our children away from us! That’s when our world ended again. And that wasn’t the last time. We’ve seen what this . . . what’s the word again?” “Apocalpyse.” “Yes, apocalypse. We’ve had that over and over. But we always survived. We’re still here. And we’ll still be here, even if the power and the radios don’t come back on and we never see any white people ever again.”
After a time, Evan and Nicole make a decision on how to move forward. After reading the beautifully written, sad epilogue, I was left with perhaps a drop of hope, but still not knowing what their fate would be. A novel of perhaps warning, but also one that made me reflect on the past.
I received an advanced copy of this book from ECW Press.
Even though the book is not long, there is quite a cast of characters, mainly focusing on Evan and Nicole and their family. Auntie Aileen, the oldest in the community was perhaps the wisest and my favorite with her knowledge and hope.
“The world isn’t ending,” she went on. “Our world isn’t ending. It already ended. It ended when the Zhaagnaash came into our original home down south on that bay and took it from us. That was our world. When the Zhaagnaash cut down all the trees and fished all the fish and forced us out of there, that’s when our world ended. They made us come all the way up here. This is not our homeland! But we had to adapt and luckily we already knew how to hunt and live on the land. We learned to live here... But then they followed us up here and started taking our children away from us! That’s when our world ended again. And that wasn’t the last time. We’ve seen what this . . . what’s the word again?” “Apocalpyse.” “Yes, apocalypse. We’ve had that over and over. But we always survived. We’re still here. And we’ll still be here, even if the power and the radios don’t come back on and we never see any white people ever again.”
After a time, Evan and Nicole make a decision on how to move forward. After reading the beautifully written, sad epilogue, I was left with perhaps a drop of hope, but still not knowing what their fate would be. A novel of perhaps warning, but also one that made me reflect on the past.
I received an advanced copy of this book from ECW Press.
November 12, 2023
Real Rating: 3.25* of five
COVID-19 UPDATE this weirdly prophetic tale of collapse is getting a sequel; and Waub Rice offers reading ideas on CBC with some old Canadian lady called Atwood (?) and a doctor who writes novels, Daniel Kalla.
A tale of the end of the world as we know it. The twist of the tail: The storytellers are those left out of the world that's ending. Evan and Nicole live on the rez all the way north in Ontario, ever so close to the Inuit lands surrounding Hudson Bay. Author Waubgeshig Rice is a First Nations native from a less-northerly band than Evan and Nicole's, so I was ready to believe him when he told me the details of his novel's land. I needn't even have considered it. I felt I could go to Thunder Bay, Ontario, get in a car or on a snowmobile, and I'd find the Whitesky clan soon enough.
We meet Evan Whitesky as he's butchering his last moose of the season, field dressing the huge bull because it's too much for him to handle alone. He's lucky, he feels, to have grown up more in tune with the old hunting ways; he'd've been sad and guilty if he'd had to abandon this huge meat source from inability to move it to a truck by himself. He offers sacred tobacco...the store-bought kind, dammit, he forgot the uncured stash!...in thanks for the life he was allowed to take that he may feed his family, his citified little brother and his aging parents, as well as the members of the band whose hunting luck wasn't as good as his.
And that's how we meet the main PoV character in a post-apocalyptic story. Yes indeed, this'll be a good read!
It was, it was...I particularly approve of the extremely limited sense we're given of just exactly *what* happened to the world of the white people. The difference between before and after is really a matter of degree for the characters in Author Rice's tender care. /irony
Much happens. Two young men come back from college in white people-land with a harrowing report of what happened when things changed, but they had no clue as to what had actually occurred. White people show up on the rez looking for safety. Several conflicting voices are heard regarding the advisability of helping strangers in the Brave New World. Shots are fired, bodies are disposed of, things get very upsetting.
But...and this is why I'm not giving the book more stars...the collapse of the outer Canada and the fractures of inner Reservationland aren't made near enough of. That means I see characters responding to...to...stress, bad people's bad actions, the atavistic pummeling of the need to protect and guard and hoard who and what you love. Great. Not enough. I, as a jaundiced old party of one, want the responses to require balancing what's lost by responding not being in any way proactive against what's gained by acting at last.
I was not as invested, therefore, as I'd need to be to give this a four on up-star rating. But don't let that put you off getting this book. I'm very glad I read it. I am deeply convinced of Rice's rightness in creating the world of the rez. The words used that're not translated will get in some readers' way. I am not one of those. At every turn the meaning of the words is made clear by context or by the English response of another character to what was said.
Treat yourself to a trip to the northern forest. You and I should probably limit our stay to a book's length. This is hard country that offers only hard living for its people. Apocalypses really only hurt those with a lot to lose; this is Author Rice's quiet thesis, and he shows us that in fact Evan's family has more to gain than to lose from the end of the world as white folks know it.
COVID-19 UPDATE this weirdly prophetic tale of collapse is getting a sequel; and Waub Rice offers reading ideas on CBC with some old Canadian lady called Atwood (?) and a doctor who writes novels, Daniel Kalla.
A tale of the end of the world as we know it. The twist of the tail: The storytellers are those left out of the world that's ending. Evan and Nicole live on the rez all the way north in Ontario, ever so close to the Inuit lands surrounding Hudson Bay. Author Waubgeshig Rice is a First Nations native from a less-northerly band than Evan and Nicole's, so I was ready to believe him when he told me the details of his novel's land. I needn't even have considered it. I felt I could go to Thunder Bay, Ontario, get in a car or on a snowmobile, and I'd find the Whitesky clan soon enough.
We meet Evan Whitesky as he's butchering his last moose of the season, field dressing the huge bull because it's too much for him to handle alone. He's lucky, he feels, to have grown up more in tune with the old hunting ways; he'd've been sad and guilty if he'd had to abandon this huge meat source from inability to move it to a truck by himself. He offers sacred tobacco...the store-bought kind, dammit, he forgot the uncured stash!...in thanks for the life he was allowed to take that he may feed his family, his citified little brother and his aging parents, as well as the members of the band whose hunting luck wasn't as good as his.
And that's how we meet the main PoV character in a post-apocalyptic story. Yes indeed, this'll be a good read!
It was, it was...I particularly approve of the extremely limited sense we're given of just exactly *what* happened to the world of the white people. The difference between before and after is really a matter of degree for the characters in Author Rice's tender care. /irony
Much happens. Two young men come back from college in white people-land with a harrowing report of what happened when things changed, but they had no clue as to what had actually occurred. White people show up on the rez looking for safety. Several conflicting voices are heard regarding the advisability of helping strangers in the Brave New World. Shots are fired, bodies are disposed of, things get very upsetting.
But...and this is why I'm not giving the book more stars...the collapse of the outer Canada and the fractures of inner Reservationland aren't made near enough of. That means I see characters responding to...to...stress, bad people's bad actions, the atavistic pummeling of the need to protect and guard and hoard who and what you love. Great. Not enough. I, as a jaundiced old party of one, want the responses to require balancing what's lost by responding not being in any way proactive against what's gained by acting at last.
I was not as invested, therefore, as I'd need to be to give this a four on up-star rating. But don't let that put you off getting this book. I'm very glad I read it. I am deeply convinced of Rice's rightness in creating the world of the rez. The words used that're not translated will get in some readers' way. I am not one of those. At every turn the meaning of the words is made clear by context or by the English response of another character to what was said.
Treat yourself to a trip to the northern forest. You and I should probably limit our stay to a book's length. This is hard country that offers only hard living for its people. Apocalypses really only hurt those with a lot to lose; this is Author Rice's quiet thesis, and he shows us that in fact Evan's family has more to gain than to lose from the end of the world as white folks know it.
May 29, 2024
**4.5-stars**
Waubgeshig Rice's haunting post-apocalyptic novel, Moon of the Crusted Snow, is a perfect Winter read.
Listening to this audiobook, while out walking my dog in the dark, with nothing but a headlamp guiding our way through barren conservation lands was eerie and thrilling.
The narrator for the audiobook, Billy Merasty, did an incredible job; I felt transported into the story.
For me, Rice's writing style is a great example of good ole'-fashioned storytelling. It's blunt and straight-forward. There's never any struggling to figure out what's happening, or losing brain cells trying to decipher the plot.
This narrative follows a small, isolated Northern Anishinaabe community as they lose all communication with the outside world at the start of Winter.
Initially they don't think much of it. It seems to be just the internet and cable, but soon things get worse.
Now without power and no idea as to why, the community must band together to wait it out. They have no idea if supplies from the South will be coming and as more time goes by, people are on the brink of panic.
It feels cold, dark and desperate; much like my heart.
Reading this post-the COVID lockdowns that we have all been dealing with over the last couple of years, made this story hit extra hard.
Rice did an incredible job building the feelings of despair and anxiousness. I was starting to get really anxious as the community's resources began to dwindle. It's a slow burn, but extremely well executed.
I liked getting to know this community; watching how they came together and dealt with their horrifying circumstances. It's a great cast of characters overall. I particularly felt connected with Evan and Nicole.
As mentioned above, I did enjoy the way Rice built up that feeling of dread. It was a great atmosphere. I just wished he would have sunk his teeth into that aspect even more. Gone a bit farther to push that feeling on the Reader. I wanted just a little more.
With this being said, this is a super interesting and well written story. It was definitely a memorable reading experience for me. I look forward to reading more from Waubgeshig Rice in the future!
Waubgeshig Rice's haunting post-apocalyptic novel, Moon of the Crusted Snow, is a perfect Winter read.
Listening to this audiobook, while out walking my dog in the dark, with nothing but a headlamp guiding our way through barren conservation lands was eerie and thrilling.
The narrator for the audiobook, Billy Merasty, did an incredible job; I felt transported into the story.
For me, Rice's writing style is a great example of good ole'-fashioned storytelling. It's blunt and straight-forward. There's never any struggling to figure out what's happening, or losing brain cells trying to decipher the plot.
This narrative follows a small, isolated Northern Anishinaabe community as they lose all communication with the outside world at the start of Winter.
Initially they don't think much of it. It seems to be just the internet and cable, but soon things get worse.
Now without power and no idea as to why, the community must band together to wait it out. They have no idea if supplies from the South will be coming and as more time goes by, people are on the brink of panic.
It feels cold, dark and desperate; much like my heart.
Reading this post-the COVID lockdowns that we have all been dealing with over the last couple of years, made this story hit extra hard.
Rice did an incredible job building the feelings of despair and anxiousness. I was starting to get really anxious as the community's resources began to dwindle. It's a slow burn, but extremely well executed.
I liked getting to know this community; watching how they came together and dealt with their horrifying circumstances. It's a great cast of characters overall. I particularly felt connected with Evan and Nicole.
As mentioned above, I did enjoy the way Rice built up that feeling of dread. It was a great atmosphere. I just wished he would have sunk his teeth into that aspect even more. Gone a bit farther to push that feeling on the Reader. I wanted just a little more.
With this being said, this is a super interesting and well written story. It was definitely a memorable reading experience for me. I look forward to reading more from Waubgeshig Rice in the future!
March 13, 2022
Post-apocalyptic lite...
Evan Whitesky is hunting for winter as the fall hunting season is coming to an end. He has enough meat and fish for his small family and the moose he just shot, which he'll share with the Anishinaabe community. It's their way.
Anishinaabe reservation is located in the Northern Ontario region.
First, the satellite tv is out, then the power. Next, two kids who go to college in the city return with news that after the blackout there is chaos. People are violent and start looting, there's no food and no update from Toronto. Reservation’s chief, Terry does his best holding meetings and telling his people to preserve energy until the power comes back on. The following day, a large white man name Justin Scott arrives citing the same story in his city. The chief reluctantly let him stay.
Moon of the Crusted Snow is a very subtle post-apocalyptic novel. I'm fine not knowing the cause and that it's left a mystery. If you're okay with no action and enjoy learning about the culture and customs of the First Nation people then this is for you. I enjoy the spiritual aspect and their relationship to the land. I wish there was a bit more tension and more character development.
Evan Whitesky is hunting for winter as the fall hunting season is coming to an end. He has enough meat and fish for his small family and the moose he just shot, which he'll share with the Anishinaabe community. It's their way.
Anishinaabe reservation is located in the Northern Ontario region.
First, the satellite tv is out, then the power. Next, two kids who go to college in the city return with news that after the blackout there is chaos. People are violent and start looting, there's no food and no update from Toronto. Reservation’s chief, Terry does his best holding meetings and telling his people to preserve energy until the power comes back on. The following day, a large white man name Justin Scott arrives citing the same story in his city. The chief reluctantly let him stay.
Moon of the Crusted Snow is a very subtle post-apocalyptic novel. I'm fine not knowing the cause and that it's left a mystery. If you're okay with no action and enjoy learning about the culture and customs of the First Nation people then this is for you. I enjoy the spiritual aspect and their relationship to the land. I wish there was a bit more tension and more character development.
March 25, 2020
I'm sad to say I enjoyed this one much less than I thought I would. The plot was decent enough -- a crisis that shuts down power supplies, electric grids, etc has people fleeing to a Native American reservation where the residents are better able to fend for themselves.
The story was dialogue-driven without much character development and the writing was surface level. I like stories that dig deep and give me something to think about (and don't we all need something else to think about right now!). I like to get to know the characters and feel something for and about them. The characters in this book weren't fleshed out enough for me to care either way about them.
I admit that after the half way point, I started skimming. I was bored with the book and ready to move on to something new. Maybe I'd have enjoyed it more if I'd read the entire thing verbatim, but really, if I don't "know" any of the characters, really, truly know, by the midway point, I don't think I'd ever get to know them.
I wish I had enjoyed this more because I don't know enough about Native American cultures and would have appreciated learning more through this novel. I was just too bored to read every page.
The story was dialogue-driven without much character development and the writing was surface level. I like stories that dig deep and give me something to think about (and don't we all need something else to think about right now!). I like to get to know the characters and feel something for and about them. The characters in this book weren't fleshed out enough for me to care either way about them.
I admit that after the half way point, I started skimming. I was bored with the book and ready to move on to something new. Maybe I'd have enjoyed it more if I'd read the entire thing verbatim, but really, if I don't "know" any of the characters, really, truly know, by the midway point, I don't think I'd ever get to know them.
I wish I had enjoyed this more because I don't know enough about Native American cultures and would have appreciated learning more through this novel. I was just too bored to read every page.
October 14, 2023
Why I chose to listen to this audiobook:
1. as a Canadian myself, I was intrigued when I saw this book about Indigenous Canadians featured on "CBC Reads", so I added it to my WTR list;
2. this audiobook was a free loan from Hoopla; and,
3. December 2022 is my self-declared "Winter/Christmas Month".
Praises:
1. in my personal opinion, author Waubgeshig Rice paints an accurate picture of life on "the Rez". One gets the feeling of residents coping with past injustices affecting their present-day life through their work ethic and retention of cultural values. Their trust and even their wariness of band council decisions are also quite evident;
2. some conversations made me laugh;
3. the frozen environment felt quite atmospheric;
4. I perked up when Rice acknowledges the literary work of fellow Canadian author, Basil Johnston because I had read Johnston's memoir Indian School Days back in 2021; and,
5. I loved the slow, authentic cadence of Indigenous narrator, Billy Merasty.
Niggles:
1. I was quite disappointed with this post-apocalyptic story. We never find out why various forms of technology (e.g. electricity, satellite transmissions, etc.) completely shut down indefinitely. And even though outsider, Justin Scott appears sinister, I was expecting a greater sense of urgency and suspense between his character and the residents. His actions were highly predictable; and,
2. the character development also seemed lacking. I was hoping to have stronger connections to everyone, good and bad.
Overall Thoughts:
For a post-apocalyptic book, this just felt "Meh!" to me.
Recommendation?
If you appreciate learning what "Rez" life is like for Indigenous Canadians, you might like this one, but if you live for suspenseful post-apocalyptic novels, you may want to look elsewhere.
1. as a Canadian myself, I was intrigued when I saw this book about Indigenous Canadians featured on "CBC Reads", so I added it to my WTR list;
2. this audiobook was a free loan from Hoopla; and,
3. December 2022 is my self-declared "Winter/Christmas Month".
Praises:
1. in my personal opinion, author Waubgeshig Rice paints an accurate picture of life on "the Rez". One gets the feeling of residents coping with past injustices affecting their present-day life through their work ethic and retention of cultural values. Their trust and even their wariness of band council decisions are also quite evident;
2. some conversations made me laugh;
3. the frozen environment felt quite atmospheric;
4. I perked up when Rice acknowledges the literary work of fellow Canadian author, Basil Johnston because I had read Johnston's memoir Indian School Days back in 2021; and,
5. I loved the slow, authentic cadence of Indigenous narrator, Billy Merasty.
Niggles:
1. I was quite disappointed with this post-apocalyptic story. We never find out why various forms of technology (e.g. electricity, satellite transmissions, etc.) completely shut down indefinitely. And even though outsider, Justin Scott appears sinister, I was expecting a greater sense of urgency and suspense between his character and the residents. His actions were highly predictable; and,
2. the character development also seemed lacking. I was hoping to have stronger connections to everyone, good and bad.
Overall Thoughts:
For a post-apocalyptic book, this just felt "Meh!" to me.
Recommendation?
If you appreciate learning what "Rez" life is like for Indigenous Canadians, you might like this one, but if you live for suspenseful post-apocalyptic novels, you may want to look elsewhere.
Read
December 14, 2023"Many Ojibwe legends speak about Nanabush. Nanabush is half spirit/half human...It is said that Nanabush was sent to teach the Anishinaabek how to live but his inability to control his humanly wants and needs often gets him in trouble..." (Ojibwe Cultural Foundation)
Nanabush and the geese..."early in the fall a long time ago, Nanabush was getting really hungry. He knew winter was coming...he didn't have much food saved up yet...he shoulda been hunting for weeks. But he was getting lazy...swimming and eating berries...it was finally time to go looking for food. So he walked down to the lake to try to find some geese...he kept walking up the shoreline...listening...he saw geese...singing and dancing...'We are leaving soon for the winter, Nanabush...We are giving thanks and asking for a safe journey'. [Nanabush] counted thirty geese... very plump. Nanabush, the trickster said, 'I'd like to offer you a dance...you have to close your eyes...spin in a circle...keep your wings by your side...'.Nanabush kept real quiet and slowly moved his hands down the goose's neck...At the end of his evil trick, there were thirty geese lying dead. Now I won't go hungry this winter...I am so hungry and I am so tired...Nanabush went to sleep for a really long time...[When he awoke] his whole pile of geese was gone...[taken] while he was asleep..." The lesson to be learned, don't be greedy.
-Anishinaabe storytelling from "Moon of the Crusted Snow"
"Hunting, fishing and living on the land was Anishinaabe custom...Evan Whitesky was trying to live in harmony with the traditional ways." After killing a moose, he "put tobacco on the ground in front of the moose...his offering of gratitude to the Creator and Mother Earth for allowing him to take this life." He would share the meat with his family and those in need. "It was the community way."
For the last few years, the small insular community had embraced modern conveniences powered from the south; cell phones, electricity and TV. Power was often intermittent, however this time, the power stayed off. Food deliveries, to the only grocery on the reserve, did not materialize. Winter would soon be at hand. Evan and the other community leaders needed to create an equitable plan to conserve diesel fuel, firewood and ration food when it seemed that no assistance would be forthcoming. Two terrified tribal college students snowmobiled home from the south and recounted widespread chaos and looting.
Justin Scott, an outsider and disruptor, followed the students home. He begged to be allowed to stay in the First Nations community. But why would he appear with a sled of weapons and alcohol? His presence would spark infighting as he disregarded Anishinaabe custom and tradition. His promises attracted a group of followers.
In order to survive, the community needed to agree to share unselfishly. There would be hunger and despair, starvation and death. Could a return to the old ways of hunting, fishing and living on the land create a way of life for a society that had forever changed?
A powerful dystopian novel by debut author Waubgeshig Rice. Highly recommended!
Nanabush and the geese..."early in the fall a long time ago, Nanabush was getting really hungry. He knew winter was coming...he didn't have much food saved up yet...he shoulda been hunting for weeks. But he was getting lazy...swimming and eating berries...it was finally time to go looking for food. So he walked down to the lake to try to find some geese...he kept walking up the shoreline...listening...he saw geese...singing and dancing...'We are leaving soon for the winter, Nanabush...We are giving thanks and asking for a safe journey'. [Nanabush] counted thirty geese... very plump. Nanabush, the trickster said, 'I'd like to offer you a dance...you have to close your eyes...spin in a circle...keep your wings by your side...'.Nanabush kept real quiet and slowly moved his hands down the goose's neck...At the end of his evil trick, there were thirty geese lying dead. Now I won't go hungry this winter...I am so hungry and I am so tired...Nanabush went to sleep for a really long time...[When he awoke] his whole pile of geese was gone...[taken] while he was asleep..." The lesson to be learned, don't be greedy.
-Anishinaabe storytelling from "Moon of the Crusted Snow"
"Hunting, fishing and living on the land was Anishinaabe custom...Evan Whitesky was trying to live in harmony with the traditional ways." After killing a moose, he "put tobacco on the ground in front of the moose...his offering of gratitude to the Creator and Mother Earth for allowing him to take this life." He would share the meat with his family and those in need. "It was the community way."
For the last few years, the small insular community had embraced modern conveniences powered from the south; cell phones, electricity and TV. Power was often intermittent, however this time, the power stayed off. Food deliveries, to the only grocery on the reserve, did not materialize. Winter would soon be at hand. Evan and the other community leaders needed to create an equitable plan to conserve diesel fuel, firewood and ration food when it seemed that no assistance would be forthcoming. Two terrified tribal college students snowmobiled home from the south and recounted widespread chaos and looting.
Justin Scott, an outsider and disruptor, followed the students home. He begged to be allowed to stay in the First Nations community. But why would he appear with a sled of weapons and alcohol? His presence would spark infighting as he disregarded Anishinaabe custom and tradition. His promises attracted a group of followers.
In order to survive, the community needed to agree to share unselfishly. There would be hunger and despair, starvation and death. Could a return to the old ways of hunting, fishing and living on the land create a way of life for a society that had forever changed?
A powerful dystopian novel by debut author Waubgeshig Rice. Highly recommended!
December 17, 2023
Books about a present-day apocalypse are usually about the crumbling of societal structures and social orders, read a few and the beats start to feel familiar. But Rice approaches the apocalypse with a different kind of view, a stellar example of how a non-white point of view can expand and add to a genre. In Moon of the Crusted Snow the apocalypse comes on slowly and things fall apart differently because the Anishinaabe community it takes place among has been exiled from traditional society. As an elder says late in the book, "Our world isn't ending. It already ended." They have already lost their home and their homeland, they have already had to learn to survive in the new world of the reservation, cut off from society. Here, losing power and phone service doesn't incite mass chaos because utilities to the reservation are so poor that outages are common, with services still a new thing not everyone is used to yet.
The book follows Evan, a young man with a young family. When things start to go wrong he doesn't worry for his own family, he has been brought up in the community traditions, he still hunts to help provide for his family. His job in public works keeps him informed and involved with keeping the reservation running, but winter is starting and life much farther north than their homeland is very different than the life their ancestors had.
For the first half of the book, we follow the community as they slowly learn their predicament and slowly adjust. But it doesn't stay as idyllic as it starts. With the rest of the world in chaos, it is inevitable that the same people who removed them from their land are now going to try to benefit from the ways of the First Nations people when their own ways have failed. And the community must decide whether they will take in outsiders or keep to themselves.
The rhythms of this book will feel different than most thrillers, but some portions were incredibly tense and I sped through it in two sittings.
The book follows Evan, a young man with a young family. When things start to go wrong he doesn't worry for his own family, he has been brought up in the community traditions, he still hunts to help provide for his family. His job in public works keeps him informed and involved with keeping the reservation running, but winter is starting and life much farther north than their homeland is very different than the life their ancestors had.
For the first half of the book, we follow the community as they slowly learn their predicament and slowly adjust. But it doesn't stay as idyllic as it starts. With the rest of the world in chaos, it is inevitable that the same people who removed them from their land are now going to try to benefit from the ways of the First Nations people when their own ways have failed. And the community must decide whether they will take in outsiders or keep to themselves.
The rhythms of this book will feel different than most thrillers, but some portions were incredibly tense and I sped through it in two sittings.
November 5, 2022
“It had become protocol to open any community event or council meeting with a smudge.”
“This protocol had once been forbidden, outlawed by the government and shunned by the church. When the ancestors of these Anishinaabe people were forced to settle in this unfamiliar land, distant from their traditional home near the Great Lakes, their culture withered under the pressure of the incomers’ Christianity. The white authorities displaced them far to the north to make way for towns and cities.”
Cornelius Ryan coined a phrase that seems to appropriately describe the fragility of life on a northern Ontario Anishinaabe reservation, “a bridge too far” – too far to receive full benefit of modern amenities such as schools, hospitals, roads, consistent communications, internet, postal service, and even availability of basic commodities and services such as food, groceries and clothing, but also too far away from their own language, heritage and culture to fully maintain the dwindling skills of what used to be a formidable hunter-gatherer society. In MOON OF THE CRUSTED SNOW, Canadian author Waubgeshig Rice explores what happens in a post-apocalyptic world where that bridge to civilization, as fragile and as tenuous as it was when it existed, collapses utterly – complete power failure, total communications blackout, no internet, no telephone, no television, no delivery of any goods or commodities, no fuel.
As one might expect in any such novel, the reader is met with a complete spectrum of actions and reactions – heroism, cowardice, bravery, courage, violence, fear, hope, despair, doubt, greed, generosity, leadership, withdrawal and, of course, more than a few deaths under a myriad of related circumstances. Put all of these circumstances into the unfamiliar melting pot of a northern Ontario aboriginal culture and add in the unwelcome ingredient of a belligerent white man who arrives seeking safe haven from the destruction, violence and ugliness he describes as happening in the “outside” white man’s world and, well, you’ve got the makings of a gripping novel that you won’t be putting down for many breathers!
Some readers may feel the ultimate necessity to participate in and to rely on your family and community may have relevance to survival in a post-apocalyptic modern white community. Some may not. I certainly do and, as a fond outdoors lover, the metaphor of the late winter difficulties of walking on, into or through, top-crusted, heavy, deep, wet snow before a much needed spring recovery can be expected is not lost on me.
Highly recommended.
Paul Weiss
“This protocol had once been forbidden, outlawed by the government and shunned by the church. When the ancestors of these Anishinaabe people were forced to settle in this unfamiliar land, distant from their traditional home near the Great Lakes, their culture withered under the pressure of the incomers’ Christianity. The white authorities displaced them far to the north to make way for towns and cities.”
Cornelius Ryan coined a phrase that seems to appropriately describe the fragility of life on a northern Ontario Anishinaabe reservation, “a bridge too far” – too far to receive full benefit of modern amenities such as schools, hospitals, roads, consistent communications, internet, postal service, and even availability of basic commodities and services such as food, groceries and clothing, but also too far away from their own language, heritage and culture to fully maintain the dwindling skills of what used to be a formidable hunter-gatherer society. In MOON OF THE CRUSTED SNOW, Canadian author Waubgeshig Rice explores what happens in a post-apocalyptic world where that bridge to civilization, as fragile and as tenuous as it was when it existed, collapses utterly – complete power failure, total communications blackout, no internet, no telephone, no television, no delivery of any goods or commodities, no fuel.
As one might expect in any such novel, the reader is met with a complete spectrum of actions and reactions – heroism, cowardice, bravery, courage, violence, fear, hope, despair, doubt, greed, generosity, leadership, withdrawal and, of course, more than a few deaths under a myriad of related circumstances. Put all of these circumstances into the unfamiliar melting pot of a northern Ontario aboriginal culture and add in the unwelcome ingredient of a belligerent white man who arrives seeking safe haven from the destruction, violence and ugliness he describes as happening in the “outside” white man’s world and, well, you’ve got the makings of a gripping novel that you won’t be putting down for many breathers!
Some readers may feel the ultimate necessity to participate in and to rely on your family and community may have relevance to survival in a post-apocalyptic modern white community. Some may not. I certainly do and, as a fond outdoors lover, the metaphor of the late winter difficulties of walking on, into or through, top-crusted, heavy, deep, wet snow before a much needed spring recovery can be expected is not lost on me.
Highly recommended.
Paul Weiss
May 7, 2019
Moon of the Crusted Snow explores an apocalypse from the viewpoint of a secluded Anishinaabe community in Northern Ontario. As it’s already only loosely attached to metropolitan Canada in the south––cell and internet service is relatively new and patchy, at best; the recent connection to the Hydro grid is just as reliable, causing the community to lean heavily on their old, diesel generators for power in the harsh winter months––the pace at which the problem reveals itself is much slower, and the response is much different, than what a reader may expect within an urban centre, especially since the band council already had some contingencies in place in case of less widespread disasters. Most of the story follows Evan Whitesky as he and those connected with governance and infrastructure maintenance on the reserve work to keep order and ensure the community’s most vulnerable members have what they need to survive to the spring. But, when a massive white man arrives on snowmobile along with a veritable arsenal, the fragile stability they found becomes jeopardized. In the face of dwindling food supplies, desperation divides an increasingly frightened populace.
I quite honestly had a hard time with this one. Rice seems to understand the need to establish a sort of normal to make a disaster more strongly felt, but any narrative requires even a hint of conflict, even so small to seem inconsequential next to the eventual chaos, in order to cultivate interest. Because the long lead up to the crumbling of society lacked this, that it read like a cast of wooden characters happily living unexciting lives, it sure dragged. Throughout the book, the author spent too much time and too many words explaining things unimportant to plot or character development. This effectively causes details about the setting and the culture that could have been small touches of flavour to make the world come alive instead feel forced and insincere. Exposition is also a major problem within the book, and this is likely a measure of inexperience, that the author worried things would otherwise go unnoticed or misunderstood by his readers unless he overtly explained everything. We don’t get to witness characters and the community changing, but we’re rather told that Evan noticed these changes after they happened. Similarly, we’re overtly told what characters’ tone or non-verbal hints mean instead of allowing us to judge characters’ emotions or intentions on our own, and Rice has characters tell us about harrowing experiences they had rather than bringing us there and letting us see them play out. This comes off as a big problem within Moon of the Crusted Snow, being hugely detrimental to the personality of the characters, cutting into the story’s suspense, and hurting the overall readability of the book.
With Moon of the Crusted Snow, I was hit with the notion, much as I have with at least a couple of recent books, that telling a good story wasn’t the point. What came across instead was that the author wanted to showcase a culture he cares about in a positive light and also to criticize colonialism for causing the problems afflicting these people––both through direct meddling and a reliance the people increasingly have on colonial ways not suited to their values or their environment. Because he attempted to accomplish this through an allegory, the effectiveness of his message is closely linked to the strength of the narrative, and this is where things fell apart for me. But keep in mind that, at the time of writing this, at least, Rice’s book is highly rated on Goodreads, which means that most readers who have checked it out didn’t agree with my assessment. As such, it’s probably best to treat this review as bit of a cautionary tale, nothing more.
I quite honestly had a hard time with this one. Rice seems to understand the need to establish a sort of normal to make a disaster more strongly felt, but any narrative requires even a hint of conflict, even so small to seem inconsequential next to the eventual chaos, in order to cultivate interest. Because the long lead up to the crumbling of society lacked this, that it read like a cast of wooden characters happily living unexciting lives, it sure dragged. Throughout the book, the author spent too much time and too many words explaining things unimportant to plot or character development. This effectively causes details about the setting and the culture that could have been small touches of flavour to make the world come alive instead feel forced and insincere. Exposition is also a major problem within the book, and this is likely a measure of inexperience, that the author worried things would otherwise go unnoticed or misunderstood by his readers unless he overtly explained everything. We don’t get to witness characters and the community changing, but we’re rather told that Evan noticed these changes after they happened. Similarly, we’re overtly told what characters’ tone or non-verbal hints mean instead of allowing us to judge characters’ emotions or intentions on our own, and Rice has characters tell us about harrowing experiences they had rather than bringing us there and letting us see them play out. This comes off as a big problem within Moon of the Crusted Snow, being hugely detrimental to the personality of the characters, cutting into the story’s suspense, and hurting the overall readability of the book.
With Moon of the Crusted Snow, I was hit with the notion, much as I have with at least a couple of recent books, that telling a good story wasn’t the point. What came across instead was that the author wanted to showcase a culture he cares about in a positive light and also to criticize colonialism for causing the problems afflicting these people––both through direct meddling and a reliance the people increasingly have on colonial ways not suited to their values or their environment. Because he attempted to accomplish this through an allegory, the effectiveness of his message is closely linked to the strength of the narrative, and this is where things fell apart for me. But keep in mind that, at the time of writing this, at least, Rice’s book is highly rated on Goodreads, which means that most readers who have checked it out didn’t agree with my assessment. As such, it’s probably best to treat this review as bit of a cautionary tale, nothing more.
January 10, 2024
Moon of the Crusted Snow was everything I expected and was looking for in this type of book. There is some type of “world ending event” or apocalypse that knocks out all power and communication. I have read several books about Native Americans. The most recent being, Firekeepers Daughter. I loved the elders in that book, and loved the elder, Aileen, in this book. We hear her wisdom throughout the book, but most powerful were her words about the situation.
“Our world isn’t ending. It already ended. It ended when the Zhaagnaash came into our original home down south on that bay and took it from us. That was our world. When the Zhaagnaash cut down all the trees and fished all the fish and forced us out of there, that’s when our world ended. They made us come all the way up here. This is not our homeland! But we had to adapt and luckily we already knew how to hunt and live on the land. We learned to live here.”
This is what makes Moon of the Crusted Snow different from other “end of the world” books. The Native People are connected to the land and are isolated from society. They are not far removed from hunting, fishing, and navigating the seasons as most Americans are. I enjoyed this aspect of the book and reading about their culture. The legend of Nanabush was interesting and purposefully placed in the narrative. Evan was my favorite character. His lover for his family and community was very moving.
The story unfolds as I would expect with a few twists and surprises once we cross the midway point of the book. Enter Justin Scott-a white man and survivalist. His arrival takes the story in a new/different direction. I am glad I read Moon of the Crusted Snow and look forward to seeing how the community's story continues in the next installment, Moon of the Turning Leaves.
“Our world isn’t ending. It already ended. It ended when the Zhaagnaash came into our original home down south on that bay and took it from us. That was our world. When the Zhaagnaash cut down all the trees and fished all the fish and forced us out of there, that’s when our world ended. They made us come all the way up here. This is not our homeland! But we had to adapt and luckily we already knew how to hunt and live on the land. We learned to live here.”
This is what makes Moon of the Crusted Snow different from other “end of the world” books. The Native People are connected to the land and are isolated from society. They are not far removed from hunting, fishing, and navigating the seasons as most Americans are. I enjoyed this aspect of the book and reading about their culture. The legend of Nanabush was interesting and purposefully placed in the narrative. Evan was my favorite character. His lover for his family and community was very moving.
The story unfolds as I would expect with a few twists and surprises once we cross the midway point of the book. Enter Justin Scott-a white man and survivalist. His arrival takes the story in a new/different direction. I am glad I read Moon of the Crusted Snow and look forward to seeing how the community's story continues in the next installment, Moon of the Turning Leaves.
October 11, 2019
Lovely, brief glimpse into the life of Canadian Indians, Moon of the Crusted Snow shows a people who have been pushed to the frozen North by the white man in their not so distant past. In the modern world, they have the right stuff to survive when the power grid crashes. This is a post-apocalyptic tale, but also a story of how individuals, families and communities are strengthened by their culture and by their knowledge of survival when times are tough. The story is a quiet one that takes on more stillness when the noise of civilization drops around them and nature takes hold again.
April 22, 2020
What a suspenseful, atmospheric story. This is not a thriller in the traditional sense, but it's certainly thrilling. It's a slow burn as you feel the tensions rise and the stakes get higher. But it never loses sight of its humanity and the characters as people for the sake of a good story. It's the fact that you so quickly become concerned for these characters that makes everything more alarming when it does happen. Will definitely keep an eye out for more from Rice in the future.
September 10, 2023
2023 reread - 5 stars
I reread this excellent book in preparation for the upcoming release of its sequel, Moon of the Turning Leaves in October 2023. It remains as excellent as it was when I first read it. This time around I listened to the audiobook, narrated by the talented Billy Merasty, who does a masterful job of transporting me to the fictional reservation in northern Ontario where the story takes place.
I love the plain, neat prose and the straightforward style Rice uses to tell his tale. No excess is required to make this story of survival dramatic; it is relatable, and therefore understandably frightening. The section of the book where two teens tell the story of their harrowing escape from their college in the south back home to the rez is simply chilling.
One of my favourite post-apocalyptic survival novels, and I’ve read a lot of them.
2019 read - 4.5 stars
I thought this was excellent. It is suspenseful and atmospheric; the ordinariness of the characters making it feel all the more real and true. This is an apocalypse story in the same vein as Good Morning, Midnight, personal and insular.
Rice captured so many things that felt honest in his fictional community. The living conditions on reserve, the community attitudes, the weather and the way geographical placement so far north lends itself to a singular experience and feel. I thought Rice did an exceptional job capturing the complicated relationship that indigenous people have with alcohol, and how it affects both individuals and the community as a whole.
I also see in the story a recognition and admiration for the enduring spirit of indigenous communities and their ultimate ability to adapt and survive.
The world isn't ending...Our world isn't ending. It already ended. It ended when the Zhaagnaash came into our original home down south on that bay and took it from us. That was our world. When the Zhaagnaash cut down all the trees and fished all the fish and forced us out of there, that's when our world ended...Yes, apocalypse. We've had that over and over. But we always survived. We're still here. And we'll still be here, even if the power and the radios don't come back on and we never see any white people again.
I reread this excellent book in preparation for the upcoming release of its sequel, Moon of the Turning Leaves in October 2023. It remains as excellent as it was when I first read it. This time around I listened to the audiobook, narrated by the talented Billy Merasty, who does a masterful job of transporting me to the fictional reservation in northern Ontario where the story takes place.
I love the plain, neat prose and the straightforward style Rice uses to tell his tale. No excess is required to make this story of survival dramatic; it is relatable, and therefore understandably frightening. The section of the book where two teens tell the story of their harrowing escape from their college in the south back home to the rez is simply chilling.
One of my favourite post-apocalyptic survival novels, and I’ve read a lot of them.
2019 read - 4.5 stars
I thought this was excellent. It is suspenseful and atmospheric; the ordinariness of the characters making it feel all the more real and true. This is an apocalypse story in the same vein as Good Morning, Midnight, personal and insular.
Rice captured so many things that felt honest in his fictional community. The living conditions on reserve, the community attitudes, the weather and the way geographical placement so far north lends itself to a singular experience and feel. I thought Rice did an exceptional job capturing the complicated relationship that indigenous people have with alcohol, and how it affects both individuals and the community as a whole.
I also see in the story a recognition and admiration for the enduring spirit of indigenous communities and their ultimate ability to adapt and survive.
The world isn't ending...Our world isn't ending. It already ended. It ended when the Zhaagnaash came into our original home down south on that bay and took it from us. That was our world. When the Zhaagnaash cut down all the trees and fished all the fish and forced us out of there, that's when our world ended...Yes, apocalypse. We've had that over and over. But we always survived. We're still here. And we'll still be here, even if the power and the radios don't come back on and we never see any white people again.
November 16, 2020
It feels weird to say I enjoyed a novel about apocalypse and disaster, but I really did! I'd been circling this one for a while and didn't get to it in my year of focusing on Canada, so it got back burnered a bit. It tells the story of an Anishinaabe community (in what could also be northern Ontario), already pretty isolated, and what happens when the power goes out. The author and the audiobook narrator are both from Indigenous Canadian backgrounds - Waubgeshig Rice is an Anishinaabe writer and journalist from the Wasauksing First Nation, and Billy Merasty is a Cree actor.
The narration was excellent, so much so that I found reasons to keep listening. If you have #hoopla you have access already!
My only beef is that there is one character that reminds me too much of the tropey Big Bad similar to Randall Flagg of Stephen King fame. To me, there is enough story and drama within the community itself, but I understand it highlights the contrast.
The narration was excellent, so much so that I found reasons to keep listening. If you have #hoopla you have access already!
My only beef is that there is one character that reminds me too much of the tropey Big Bad similar to Randall Flagg of Stephen King fame. To me, there is enough story and drama within the community itself, but I understand it highlights the contrast.
November 11, 2020
Interesting setting, but features bland and inert prose
I was looking forward to reading this book, as it promised a rare portrait of life in a Canadian First Nations community, which was a setting that was new to me. Sadly, the prose in this book is relentlessly bland and inert, and the author has almost no ability to modulate rising and falling action or create any sense of tension or payoff. It’s a shame, because the depiction of a small, struggling community in the depths of the frozen north of Ontario feels authentic and keenly observed. But this community deserves a much more compelling narrative to honor their presence and sacrifices.
I was looking forward to reading this book, as it promised a rare portrait of life in a Canadian First Nations community, which was a setting that was new to me. Sadly, the prose in this book is relentlessly bland and inert, and the author has almost no ability to modulate rising and falling action or create any sense of tension or payoff. It’s a shame, because the depiction of a small, struggling community in the depths of the frozen north of Ontario feels authentic and keenly observed. But this community deserves a much more compelling narrative to honor their presence and sacrifices.
October 20, 2018
"Evan grabbed his sunglasses that lay beside his useless cellphone on the table and perched them on top of his mesh fishing hat. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the television on the wall across the room. It had been off for almost two days now. He thought of how much he had paid for both the phone and the TV on a trip to the city back in the spring, and he was annoyed that he currently could use neither.
'Think it's the weather?' Evan had asked Isaiah while they worked on the moose.
'Doubt it. Probably just bad receivers. We can never have nice things on the rez!'"
Moon of the Crusted Snow is a fascinating look at what happens in a post-apocalyptic world for the people who are so isolated from everyone else that it takes them weeks to realize something has seriously gone wrong.
Just as the first snow of the winter starts to fall, the small Anishinaabe community in the far north of Ontario is cut off from the rest of the world when their power lines go down and the communication lines stop transmitting.
Used to power outages, dropped communication lines, and delayed food shipments, the community has some back up plans in place: an old generator that can power the community, wood furnaces to supplement the electric heat, and plenty of food stores that have been put up through hunting and fishing to prepare for the long winter. It's not until some family members manage to return home from the south that the community realizes something has gone terribly wrong in the outside world.
This story is not the typical high-action-thriller that I've grown to expect from anything described as post-apocalyptic. Instead, it's more of an examination of a Native community struggling to figure out its identity in a modern world. Being cut off from the everyday conveniences most of us take for granted affects some of the people in the community more than others. There is some tension built when some outsiders make their way to the community, but for me it resolves in a kind of anticlimactic way.
The true beauty of this story is in the quiet and unassuming way author Waubgeshig Rice portrays day-to-day life on the reserve, and how those who embrace a more traditional life still struggled, but seemed to be more at peace. I loved being introduced to Anishinaabe phrases and traditions, and I can imagine that this would be a powerful listen as an audiobook.
I strongly recommend this book to anyone who'd like to have a glimpse into the lives of those living in the far north without having to wear a parka and toque.
Thanks so much to NetGalley and ECW Press for providing me with a DRC of this book.
November 9, 2020
4.5 Stars
This was an intimate piece of fiction that provided an honest and well balanced account of life on an indigenous reservation. Told through the lens of a mystery apocalyptic event, this story offered very little explanation of the larger situation and instead chose to tell the story from a very specific, narrow perspective. I thought this storytelling choice was very unique and well executed. The narrative was fairly slow with only little spurts of action, yet I found myself completely immersed in this suspenseful story of survival. As someone who works very closely with the indigenous people of Canada, this story also spoke to me on a very personal level. The ending was a bit abrupt, but otherwise I thought this short novel was nearly perfect. I would recommend this one to anyone looking for a unique take on the subgenre of post apocalyptic fiction.
This was an intimate piece of fiction that provided an honest and well balanced account of life on an indigenous reservation. Told through the lens of a mystery apocalyptic event, this story offered very little explanation of the larger situation and instead chose to tell the story from a very specific, narrow perspective. I thought this storytelling choice was very unique and well executed. The narrative was fairly slow with only little spurts of action, yet I found myself completely immersed in this suspenseful story of survival. As someone who works very closely with the indigenous people of Canada, this story also spoke to me on a very personal level. The ending was a bit abrupt, but otherwise I thought this short novel was nearly perfect. I would recommend this one to anyone looking for a unique take on the subgenre of post apocalyptic fiction.
January 6, 2022
This was a really good slow-burning post-apocalyptic story! Very haunting and atmospheric, and kind of the perfect read for Winterween with all the snow storm vibes.
Here's the vlog where I read it: https://youtu.be/i7lkUuNoO6Q
Here's the vlog where I read it: https://youtu.be/i7lkUuNoO6Q
February 19, 2021
This was a haunting cautionary tale! Set in northern Canada, MOON OF THE CRUSTED SNOW is a character-driven, slow-burn thriller about what happens in a remote Anishinaabe community when the unthinkable happens. Their power goes out, their phones quit working, and suddenly they're cut off from the rest of the world. Winter is setting in, food supplies are low, and word from the south is that the chaos is widespread. When an outsider arrives seeking shelter, their precarious situation gets worse.
I'm not usually a fan of dystopian/post-apocalyptic fiction, BUT something about the premise of this book pulled me in. I'm so glad I took a chance and read it. The wonderfully tense, ominous atmosphere kept me glued to the pages. What a terrifying situation to be in, and I felt like I was a part of it, wondering what was coming next.
One of the most memorable moments was when main character Evan talked to an elder about the meaning of "apocalypse," and how their world had already ended when they were forced off their land and had their children taken away.
If a dystopian novel can be realistic, then this was it. In the end, I was left with a lot of unanswered questions, but in an actual apocalypse, would you have all the answers? I just read that there will be a sequel coming out (next year, maybe), and I can't wait to find out what happens next!
I'm not usually a fan of dystopian/post-apocalyptic fiction, BUT something about the premise of this book pulled me in. I'm so glad I took a chance and read it. The wonderfully tense, ominous atmosphere kept me glued to the pages. What a terrifying situation to be in, and I felt like I was a part of it, wondering what was coming next.
One of the most memorable moments was when main character Evan talked to an elder about the meaning of "apocalypse," and how their world had already ended when they were forced off their land and had their children taken away.
If a dystopian novel can be realistic, then this was it. In the end, I was left with a lot of unanswered questions, but in an actual apocalypse, would you have all the answers? I just read that there will be a sequel coming out (next year, maybe), and I can't wait to find out what happens next!
March 17, 2024
A North American Anishinaabe community very suddenly finds itself cut off from the rest of the world with all means of communication gone and electrical power out. It is unclear what has happened out there, but, although these people are the best adapt to survive without technology, the coming harsh winter and the dwindling food resources cause the calm, friendly, almost idyllic nature of the village to crumble, leaving its place to tension, tension, tension. Plus, other people start migrating and settling from the South and they're kind of suspicious.
The built up is slow, and very powerful because of it and the narration very quiet and unassuming, but effective. I literally felt cold and hungry reading this (But that doesn't say much, actually, as I do feel cold and hungry most of the time). I liked how the Anishinaabe elements were woven into the story. Ultimately, the story was a little too slow for me to fully enjoy.
I've read this for the Shine&Shadow April Dark Read, theme is weather horror.
The built up is slow, and very powerful because of it and the narration very quiet and unassuming, but effective. I literally felt cold and hungry reading this (But that doesn't say much, actually, as I do feel cold and hungry most of the time). I liked how the Anishinaabe elements were woven into the story. Ultimately, the story was a little too slow for me to fully enjoy.
I've read this for the Shine&Shadow April Dark Read, theme is weather horror.
November 23, 2020
This felt like an A24 film in book form. It has a desolate winter landscape, a group of people trying their best to survive, a stranger with ulterior motives coming in to stir the pot of normalcy, and a tension that brews like a kettle over a fire.
Absolutely fabulous.
AT A GLANCE
• Quiet, ambiguous apocalyptic novel set during a harsh winter
• Indigenous-Canadian fiction
• A quick, tense read that will leave you wondering what will happen next
Absolutely fabulous.
AT A GLANCE
• Quiet, ambiguous apocalyptic novel set during a harsh winter
• Indigenous-Canadian fiction
• A quick, tense read that will leave you wondering what will happen next
December 27, 2022
Moon Of The Crusted Snow is a very different sort of apocalyptic novel, with the characters being First Nations, and the setting being a Northern Ontario reserve. Because of this, it kind of flips the genre on its head. It's less outrageous and aggressive in the usual sense, and stripped of the usual cliches, the token characters, and the action-packed scenes that often come with dystopian/apocalyptic stories and, to me, more often than not feel empty. Without these things filling up the book, there's more room for what I personally find interesting: the practical day-to-day realities of a community who are now faced with what comes next in an apocalyptic existence.
The writing is incredibly evocative and it comes so naturally. Every time I picked the book up to read, it was so easy for me to fall into the story and feel like I was right there with the characters, especially the main character Evan. I could hear the deep cold breaths the characters took in and let out, the snow crunching under their snowshoed feet; that very particular sound of the wind whistling through bare but snow-covered trees in the silence of the harsh Northern winter. The villain of the novel is more restrained than I thought he'd be, through some excellent writing, which actually made him even more terrifying to me than he may have been otherwise. He was real - quietly mischievous and relying heavily on a charm that at first glance can lend him the benefit of harmlessness and misunderstanding, but is nothing less than pure ugly once you get a view of what's underneath even the tiniest of cracks. The slow-burning aspects of the plot coupled with the low-key but distinct vileness of this character's presence was genuinely chilling - again, because of how realistic it all seemed through the tender touch of some truly refined writing.
The writing is incredibly evocative and it comes so naturally. Every time I picked the book up to read, it was so easy for me to fall into the story and feel like I was right there with the characters, especially the main character Evan. I could hear the deep cold breaths the characters took in and let out, the snow crunching under their snowshoed feet; that very particular sound of the wind whistling through bare but snow-covered trees in the silence of the harsh Northern winter. The villain of the novel is more restrained than I thought he'd be, through some excellent writing, which actually made him even more terrifying to me than he may have been otherwise. He was real - quietly mischievous and relying heavily on a charm that at first glance can lend him the benefit of harmlessness and misunderstanding, but is nothing less than pure ugly once you get a view of what's underneath even the tiniest of cracks. The slow-burning aspects of the plot coupled with the low-key but distinct vileness of this character's presence was genuinely chilling - again, because of how realistic it all seemed through the tender touch of some truly refined writing.
Read
November 8, 2023This is the story of a small town of First Nation people in the north of North America, just getting on with their lives until the power goes out. We never find out why the power goes out or what happened, which is actually fantastic, as we move with the characters from 'oh a power cut' to 'shit, it's not coming back'. The community has to work out how to share theiir stockpiles and move forward through months of hard winter. And a very suspicious white survivalist guy arrives.
It's a great, compelling premise. The problem is the telling in that it kind of feels like almost everything happens off screen. (It's from one character's POV and he just isn't there for lots of the stuff, plus there's a lot of time jumps.) We jump from the survivalist arriving to him having developed a sort of cult offscreen, then to a dramatic climax revealing all manner of terrible things. The story behind it is amazing and would be a really tense thriller but we have barely seen the build up and it feels like we missed a lot of the story. The account of the community dealing with the loss of power also skips from point to point, when I'd have loved to get in deeper and dig into the emotional toll.
The writing is sparse and declarative but effective, and there's the bones of two terrific stories here (the thriller, and the account of the community coping and fracturing under the strain). But neither of them gets a full account. I think I wish it had committed to one story or the other, or hell, make it both and be three times as long (and it is not often that I wish that books were longer). Interesting read, loads of potential, I just wanted a lot more of it.
It's a great, compelling premise. The problem is the telling in that it kind of feels like almost everything happens off screen. (It's from one character's POV and he just isn't there for lots of the stuff, plus there's a lot of time jumps.) We jump from the survivalist arriving to him having developed a sort of cult offscreen, then to a dramatic climax revealing all manner of terrible things. The story behind it is amazing and would be a really tense thriller but we have barely seen the build up and it feels like we missed a lot of the story. The account of the community dealing with the loss of power also skips from point to point, when I'd have loved to get in deeper and dig into the emotional toll.
The writing is sparse and declarative but effective, and there's the bones of two terrific stories here (the thriller, and the account of the community coping and fracturing under the strain). But neither of them gets a full account. I think I wish it had committed to one story or the other, or hell, make it both and be three times as long (and it is not often that I wish that books were longer). Interesting read, loads of potential, I just wanted a lot more of it.
June 21, 2022
In the Native Canadian reservation (called the “rez” throughout) the phone lines go down one day, then there’s no internet, then finally no power at all. Civilisation has collapsed, offstage. We never get to find out why. So the set up is the same as a whole lot of recent novels where civilisation collapses. I think people are getting kind of jittery and thinking that civilisation is gonna collapse, like, next Wednesday.
This version of the end of civilisation as we know it was dull. It did not help that the author has a gauche earnest plodding style which kind of drains drama away from every situation. I could imagine Frank Bill or Jordan Harper or Donald Ray Pollock describing the same incidents but getting me to turn the pages frantically. But frantic page turning did not happen. I normally provide quotes to back up my dismal verdicts but not in this case, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
The big point, however, is well made: that when the apocalypse arrives the indigenous peoples of the world will be able to roll with the punches because they are used to their world being trashed and everything being temporary. It’s happened to them so many times.
This version of the end of civilisation as we know it was dull. It did not help that the author has a gauche earnest plodding style which kind of drains drama away from every situation. I could imagine Frank Bill or Jordan Harper or Donald Ray Pollock describing the same incidents but getting me to turn the pages frantically. But frantic page turning did not happen. I normally provide quotes to back up my dismal verdicts but not in this case, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
The big point, however, is well made: that when the apocalypse arrives the indigenous peoples of the world will be able to roll with the punches because they are used to their world being trashed and everything being temporary. It’s happened to them so many times.
October 29, 2018
He kicked up frozen shrapnel each time he raised a foot. A fine powder lay underneath. The conditions made him think of the specific time of year. There's a word for this, he thought, trying to remember with each high step across the hard snow. His knees raised as if to rev his mind into higher gear. He looked up to the lumpy clouds in the hope that the word would emerge like a ray of sunlight through overcast sky.
“Onaabenii Giizis,” he proudly proclaimed out loud. “The moon of the crusted snow.” His words fell flat on the white ground in front of him and he wondered which month that actually was.
Moon of the Crusted Snow is the third book I've read in the past year that looks at the collapse of Western society from a First Nations' perspective (along with Future Home of the Living God and The Marrow Thieves), with the difference this time being that we're watching a remote northern community grapple with the immediate aftermath of the phones and power going out, with no information getting through about what might be happening elsewhere. Inured to infrastructure failures on their reserve, at first folks are more annoyed than worried; but as news – and refugees – find their way into the community, these people need to start making decisions about the future. Told in rather unadorned prose, author Waubgeshig Rice has crafted a story more interesting than literary, but it does pose an intriguing question: If the lights all went out tomorrow, who would be better prepared for survival than those who have preserved some traditional knowledge? The corollary to that is, of course: And if the white people all started starving, where would they go to demand resources?
Nick and Kevin looked at each other. They were both nineteen years old, barely men. They had grown up in families that believed in teaching their kids how to live on the land and they knew how to hunt, fish, and trap. They knew the basics of winter survival. Those experiences had hardened their bodies and helped them mature, but they looked at each other now, fragile as small children. All that training could not have prepared them for what had happened.
What I liked best about this view of post-apocalypse reserve life is that there's a believable range of personality types. The main character, Evan, is a young father who had long ago determined to learn traditional knowledge from his Anishinaabe elders and pass it on to his own children. By contrast, his younger brother, Cam, has been content to collect welfare and spend his days smoking dope and playing video games. When the crisis becomes known, there are wise tribal counselors and hotheads, caregivers and deadbeats; and when a white survivalist finds his way to the reserve with an arsenal of guns and a secret cache of booze, he is able to attract some followers with his promises of easy living. For a community that was long ago stripped of its soul – forced to move off their traditional lands and then compelled to assimilate their children in the deplorable Residential School system – the collapse of the settlers' society just might be an opportunity for the Anishinaabe to rediscover their own ways.
Apocalypse. We’ve had that over and over. But we always survived. We’re still here. And we’ll still be here, even if the power and the radios don’t come back on and we never see any white people ever again.
Moon of the Crusted Snow has the heft of a YA novel – and for that reason, I think it would make an excellent teaching resource – and I was intrigued enough by the concept to spend the few hours it took to read this slim book. Ultimately, I think that the questions that Rice raised are more interesting than how he answered them, but I don't regret the time I spent in his world.
April 5, 2023
4.5 Stars
Reading along with Horror Spotlight in January. Want to join us? All the info is here: https://www.horrorspotlight.com/2023/...
A little later:
This book has mastered the slow creeping dread that I adore. The story takes place on an indigenous reservation where bit by bit you come to the realization that something terrible has happened in the outside world. They're so cut off from the rest of the world that it takes everyone some time to come to this realization as they tend to their day-to-day survival and prepare for the approaching grueling winter. But things are about to get so much worse than anyone could ever imagine.
The characterization is fantastic, there's a true sense of community created, it feels like it's happening in real time and you'll feel for these trusting people who have already been through far too much pain. There are even a few moments of humor to lighten the dark and ominous mood.
Read it in the dead of winter. You won't be sorry!
Reading along with Horror Spotlight in January. Want to join us? All the info is here: https://www.horrorspotlight.com/2023/...
A little later:
This book has mastered the slow creeping dread that I adore. The story takes place on an indigenous reservation where bit by bit you come to the realization that something terrible has happened in the outside world. They're so cut off from the rest of the world that it takes everyone some time to come to this realization as they tend to their day-to-day survival and prepare for the approaching grueling winter. But things are about to get so much worse than anyone could ever imagine.
The characterization is fantastic, there's a true sense of community created, it feels like it's happening in real time and you'll feel for these trusting people who have already been through far too much pain. There are even a few moments of humor to lighten the dark and ominous mood.
Read it in the dead of winter. You won't be sorry!
February 16, 2023
3.5 stars? Found it to be a little struggle to rate as it's had an different version on the post apocalyptic story and I liked the characters. But it didn't quite felt like a post apocalyptic thriller as it's seems to lack in some parts to give fill effect. But still an enjoyable story
December 22, 2020
2020-12, 4 stars: I enjoyed this story all over again, and actually found my reading deepened by having also recently read Sheila Watt Cloutier's The Right to be Cold, which brought home how important are things like one's language and stories, the knowledge and ways of elders about the land and the animals in it, and even something as simple as one's culture's food, and the sharing of it and other resources within the community. Waubgeshig Rice's story really drove home the point that those more connected to their heritage and old ways were the ones that coped better with the situation unfolding in his novel.
The parts that really stayed with me after finishing the book were the quiet moments between Aileen and Evan. My favourite passage from this book:
2019-04, 4 stars: I love it when Canada figures in a speculative fiction story. And rather than situate this post- apocalyptic tale in a city, Waubgeshig Rice places his protagonists in a Anishnaabe reservation in northern Ontario. None of the aboriginal characters has special powers, or hidden abilities. Everyone is ordinary, and is faced with an extraordinary, steadily worsening situation. How the people of the reservation cope with the fallout of some unnamed disaster elsewhere is fascinating. The loss of their electricity, phones and various other amenities is not the overwhelming disaster for the people of the reservation that it would be for a typical city dweller. The people in this story, particularly the elders, remember the time when the Canadian government forcibly moved them from their former lands to their current location. This traumatic event, along with many other incidents created by the inimical interactions for hundreds of years with western culture, resulting in forcible displacement, successive broken treaties, the 'reeducation' and physical and sexual abuse of their young in residential schools, and the addictions, abuse and suicides arising for generations afterwards, has the people of the reservation managing the transition away from some of their 21st century comforts somewhat more calmly than I've typically encountered in post-apocalyptic fiction. That's not to say that there isn't hardship and hopelessness amongst the reservation population. Rice gives us the emotional toll upon people from the crisis, and how they cope with the introduction of outsiders in this quiet story. I really liked this deceptively simple, well-told story of people in a terrible situation.
The parts that really stayed with me after finishing the book were the quiet moments between Aileen and Evan. My favourite passage from this book:
“They say that this is the end of the world. The power’s out and we’ve run out of gas and no one’s come up from down south. They say the food is running out and that we’re in danger. There’s a word they say too — ah . . . pock . . . ah . . .”
“Apocalypse?”
“Yes, apocalypse! What a silly word. I can tell you there’s no word like that in Ojibwe. Well, I never heard a word like that from my elders anyway.”
Evan nodded, giving the elder his full attention.
“The world isn’t ending,” she went on. “Our world isn’t ending. It already ended. It ended when the Zhaagnaash came into our original home down south on that bay and took it from us. That was our world. When the Zhaagnaash cut down all the trees and fished all the fish and forced us out of there, that’s when our world ended. They made us come all the way up here. This is not our homeland! But we had to adapt and luckily we already knew how to hunt and live on the land. We learned to live here.”
She became more animated as she went on. Her small hands swayed as she emphasized the words she wanted to highlight. “But then they followed us up here and started taking our children away from us! That’s when our world ended again. And that wasn’t the last time. We’ve seen what this . . . what’s the word again?”
“Apocalpyse.”
“Yes, apocalypse. We’ve had that over and over. But we always survived. We’re still here. And we’ll still be here, even if the power and the radios don’t come back on and we never see any white people ever again.”
2019-04, 4 stars: I love it when Canada figures in a speculative fiction story. And rather than situate this post- apocalyptic tale in a city, Waubgeshig Rice places his protagonists in a Anishnaabe reservation in northern Ontario. None of the aboriginal characters has special powers, or hidden abilities. Everyone is ordinary, and is faced with an extraordinary, steadily worsening situation. How the people of the reservation cope with the fallout of some unnamed disaster elsewhere is fascinating. The loss of their electricity, phones and various other amenities is not the overwhelming disaster for the people of the reservation that it would be for a typical city dweller. The people in this story, particularly the elders, remember the time when the Canadian government forcibly moved them from their former lands to their current location. This traumatic event, along with many other incidents created by the inimical interactions for hundreds of years with western culture, resulting in forcible displacement, successive broken treaties, the 'reeducation' and physical and sexual abuse of their young in residential schools, and the addictions, abuse and suicides arising for generations afterwards, has the people of the reservation managing the transition away from some of their 21st century comforts somewhat more calmly than I've typically encountered in post-apocalyptic fiction. That's not to say that there isn't hardship and hopelessness amongst the reservation population. Rice gives us the emotional toll upon people from the crisis, and how they cope with the introduction of outsiders in this quiet story. I really liked this deceptively simple, well-told story of people in a terrible situation.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 4,394 reviews