I’d never read any Geraldine McCaughrean (how does one pronounce that last name? the American mind boggles) before this because I genuinely just didn’t have any interest - I’d look at White Darkness and my eyes would glaze over. No thanks, I said. I do not care for this snow-book, Printz or no.

Well, joke’s on me, because it turns out McCaughrean is actually a really good writer. Stylistically, she’s stunning. Her prose is tight, complex, atmospheric, an absolute joy to read. Her use of symbol and metaphor is both original and gripping, delving deep into the issues such devices raise. Stranded on a rock in the middle of the ocean, freezing and starving, the boys constantly question the value of symbolism, and so does the narrative itself: Is the garefowl tied to Murdina outside of Quill’s imagination? Does it matter whether she is or not? There’s also a subtle critique of capitalism woven throughout, which I always enjoy, as the working class characters’ perception of the man who owns their island (called simply the Owner) slowly morphs from godlike benefactor to “oh Christ, this dude left us all to die, he really does not care about us.”

The only reason I’m not giving this book a better rating is John. What to say about John? John is a girl who was raised as a boy by her mother (because her father wanted a son) and no one ever noticed even though it’s mentioned that she participates in literal pissing contests with the “other” boys. This, of course, makes no sense. What’s worse is that her gender isn’t treated with any sort of nuance. She outright states at one point that she considers herself a boy; this is ignored by both the other characters (sort of understandable, this is the eighteenth century, after all) and the narrative (way less understandable), both of which continue to call her a girl and marry her off to one of the other boys against her will. She is constantly sexually harassed, and this is mostly treated as a joke: She can defend herself, so it’s fine! She’s scrappy! Not like being stranded on an island with a dozen boys constantly trying to fondle her would add an extra layer of trauma to an already terrible experience! The boys take care of each other and it’s beautiful, sort of a working-class anti-Lord of the Flies in that even in that isolation and desperation breed compassion rather than violence amongst the characters. Except the way they treat John completely undermines this - even when they’re drying her off after she’s fallen into frozen water, they’re doing it not out of kindness but as an excuse to touch her body. Gross! The fact that their compassion only applies to other boys really sort of undermines the book’s themes. (It’s worth noting, too, that Quill himself treats another girl as an object that belongs to him - not physically, at least, but definitely mentally - and he’s rewarded for it in the end.)

I don’t know why John is even in this book; she’s not necessary to the story, and seems to exist only to raise questions that McCaughren apparently isn’t equipped to answer. This would be one of my favorite books of the year if it weren’t for her. But if you're willing to deal with some truly weird gender identity issues and out-of-left-field sexism, this is worth the read. It’s certainly unlike any book I’ve read before.