I'm torn between three and four stars on this one. I greatly enjoyed most of the book, but it does take a long time to set all the events and characters in motion and then, because so much is going on, it takes longer than I'd like to conclude. On the other hand, after the action gets going and before it concludes the book becomes difficult to put down. I decided it deserves four stars because not only was it a fun read but it is a really interesting read in the following ways:
1) Without being overtly political, Vinge makes a feminist statement in this book. The fact that the world of Tiamat is ruled by women could cut both ways, but the Snow and Summer Queens are far from the only strong female characters. The ratio of strong female to strong male characters is probably pretty balanced, actually, which is a rarity in my SF reading up to this point. Prior to the 1970s, to find a strong female character in SF was a surprise and a treat.
2) Vinge raises questions of ethical behavior toward not only other human beings but toward nonhuman creatures as well in the relationship between the mers--intelligent waterdwellers on Tiamat (basically merpeople) who, as it turns out, had been created by the Old Empire as part of a scientific experiment--and the human inhabitants and visitors of Tiamat. The mers are regularly slaughtered for their blood, which has life-preserving qualities that allow the humans who use the "water of life," as it is called, to stay young and live forever--as long as they keep ingesting this substance. Vinge asks us to consider whether this is justifiable, even if the mers are not intelligent creatures, and this echoes real-life issues of animal rights and anti-colonial movements.
3) Although The Snow Queen, based on Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale, is in some ways very much in the tradition of epic fantasy, complete with royalty, palace intrigue, and apparent magic, Vinge refigures the fantastic in favor of the scientific. Here, fantasy is transformed into science fiction by simply providing an explanation for the magic of Tiamat. The sibyls, who are worshipped as specially able to communicate the words and knowledge of the Lady, a goddess, turn out to be able, instead, to communicate with a computer system because they have been genetically engineered to be able to do so. The mers aren't fantasy creatures divorced from reality but are the result of scientific experimentation that have a purpose. And the central issue of the book is that of progress through technology and the rights of the people of Tiamat to improve their lives through technology. The goal is not to return to a primordial time of innocence and wonder but to change the world for the better. As Moon, the protagonist, says, "Change isn't evil--change is life. Nothing's all good, or all bad. . . . What you choose to do with your life doesn't matter, unless you have the right to choose anything" (489).
4) Vinge explores quite thoroughly the various ways in power can change those who hold it. Arienrhod, the Snow Queen, is completely corrupted by her absolute power over her subjects, and Sparks is changed from an innocent and good young man to an executioner and murderer at the hands of Arienrhod and with the power their relationship gives him. Jerusha, the police inspector who becomes commander, is changed by the power she gains as well; although she does not become corrupted herself, she does lose a great deal of herself to the position she has taken on. Even Moon, the most good-hearted, well-informed, and well-intentioned character in the book risks losing that. As she realizes when she becomes Summer Queen, "becoming Queen did not mean absolute freedom, but the end of it" (528). As we see in Jerusha and Moon, however, power does not have to mean corruption. Jerusha resists that corruption and her position and prestige in order to do the right thing and we can only hope that Moon, in the following books of the series, will be able to do the same.
5) The concluding chapter includes a couple of statements that I, quite simply, really liked and was moved by. BZ Gundhalinu, a police inspector, tells Jerusha what he has learned through the painful experiences he has endured and says,
"A man without armor is a defenseless man. . . . But maybe he's a freer man for it. . . . Anything becomes possible, after you find the courage to admit that nothing is certain" (532).
In the same conversation, Jerusha tells Gundhalinu that the real danger of the world is indifference. It is, she says,
"the strongest force in the universe. It makes everything it touches meaningless. Love and hatedon't stand a chance against it. It lets neglect and decay and monstrous injustice go unchecked. It doesn't at, it allows. And that's what gives it so much power" (533).
These two concepts play a huge role already in my personal philosophy and it's nice to have them articulated so well here.