Once upon a time, in a small village nestled at the foot of a magnificent mountain, there lived a young girl named Lily. Lily had always been fascinated by stories of magic and adventure, often dreaming of embarking on her own epic journey. One winter's day, as the village was blanketed in a soft layer of snow, Lily set out for a walk. The air was cold and crisp, and the snowflakes danced around her as if guided by an invisible hand. As she wandered deeper into the forest, she stumbled upon a peculiar sight. In a clearing, there stood a tall man draped in a flowing cloak made of pure white snow.
The century after 1550 saw intense confessional conflict accompanied by widespread censure and disciplinary measures, with prominent Lutheran theologians and demonologists preaching that divination was a demonic threat to the Christian community and that soothsayers deserved the death penalty. Rulers, however, refused to treat divination as a capital crime, and the populace continued to embrace it alongside official Christianity in troubled times. The Devil’s Art highlights the limits of Reformation-era disciplinary efforts and demonstrates the extent to which reformers’ efforts to inculcate new cultural norms relied upon the support of secular authorities and the acquiescence of parishioners. Negotiation, accommodation, and local resistance blunted official reform efforts and ensured that occult activities persisted and even flourished in Germany into the modern era, surviving Reformation-era preaching and Enlightenment-era ridicule alike.
Popular divination faced centuries of elite condemnation, as the Lutheran clergy attempted to suppress these practices in the wake of the Reformation and learned elites sought to eradicate them during the Enlightenment. But, oh, Leyh is absolutely on point here; her mix of irrepressible cartooning and narrative subtlety, of bounce and insinuation, is a wonder to behold.
In a clearing, there stood a tall man draped in a flowing cloak made of pure white snow. His hair glistened in the sunlight, resembling icicles hanging from a frozen waterfall. Lily approached, entranced by the enchanting figure before her.
The witch coy series
I favored Snapdragon to win this year’s Eisner Award for Best Publication for Kids (though, um, another book ended up winning). Of all the recent comics about witches that I’ve reviewed here, Snapdragon strikes me as the most sure-handed and persuasive, as well as the richest. It shares with most of the other “witch” books a progressive, inclusive, queer-positive ethos and Bildungsroman structure. Snapdragon, though, brings even more to the table, without ever overcramming or pushing too hard. Unsurprisingly, the book has a utopian, welcoming, vibe, but author Kat Leyh stirs in so much complicated humanness that the results never seem pollyannish or schematic. What we get is a winningly complex cast of characters, queer and trans representation that is central to the story while being gloriously unflustered and direct, spooky supernatural details that resolve into unexpected affirmations, and, above all, vivid and confident cartooning – one terrific, nuanced page after another. I was just a few pages in when I realized that I was in the hands of a master comics artist.
The book has guts. Its first panel delivers a closeup of hungry birds tearing into carrion (roadkill), then zooms out to Snapdragon, or Snap, barreling through the woods on her bike. “Our town has a witch,” Snap’s opening captions tell us. “She fed her eye to the devil. She eats roadkill. And casts spells with the bones…” So, by way of opening, Leyh leans into the creep factor:
But Snap, a fierce young girl, isn’t having it; the town’s rumors of a witch are “bull,” she thinks. “Witches ain’t real,” her skeptical thoughts go, as she brings her bike skidding to a halt in front of the witch’s (?) home. But soon enough Snap has joined forces with this supposed witch, a quirky old woman named Jacks who cares for animals but also salvages and sells the bones of roadkill to collectors and museums. Is Jacks a witch? Does she wield real magic? The book remains coy about this until halfway through, but Snap quickly bonds with Jacks, who welcomes Snap into her work, mentors her in animal anatomy and care, and becomes a sort of avuncular (materteral?) queer role model.
That bond helps Snap claim her own implied queerness – that, and Snap’s friendship with Lou/Lulu, an implicitly trans schoolmate labeled as a boy but anxious to claim her girlness. All the book’s relationships are worked out with care, including the crucial one between Snap and her overworked but wise single mom, Vi. Leyh’s characterization is slyly intersectional, including sensitivity to class (Lu and Snap are neighbors in a mobile home park, a detail conveyed with knowing matter-of-factness). Almost every character has more to give than at first appears – the sole exception being Vi’s toxic ex-boyfriend, a heavy whose sudden reappearance at the climax is the book’s one surrender to convenience. Everything else feels truly earned.
Snapdragon is the kind of book that, described in the abstract, might seem to be playing with loaded dice. In less sure hands, its story could have come across as pat and programmatic, a matter of good intentions as opposed to gutsy storytelling. But, oh, Leyh is absolutely on point here; her mix of irrepressible cartooning and narrative subtlety, of bounce and insinuation, is a wonder to behold. Snap and Jacks are great characters, and in good company. Their world feels real and vital. Leyh infuses their story with grace, understanding, and nonstop energy. I’ve read this book multiple times and expect to read it again. I’d read sequels, if Leyh wanted to offer any. And I’ll follow her whatever she does.
Studies in Early Modern German History
The man introduced himself as Arcturus, the guardian of snow magic. He explained that he had sensed Lily's pure heart and her longing for adventure. With a twinkle in his eyes, Arcturus invited Lily to join him on a magical journey through the realms of snow. Eagerly accepting the invitation, Lily found herself whisked away into a world unlike anything she had ever imagined. The snowy landscape seemed to come alive, with snowflakes swirling and forming intricate patterns around her. As they traveled, Arcturus taught Lily the ancient art of snow magic. Under Arcturus' guidance, Lily learned to wield the power of snow. She could summon gentle snow showers or create magnificent snow sculptures with just a wave of her hand. Together, they brought joy and wonder to the world, transforming barren landscapes into stunning winter wonderlands. As their journey continued, Lily discovered that snow magic held not only the power to create beauty but also to heal. They encountered a village plagued by a terrible blizzard, and with her newfound abilities, Lily melted the icy grips of winter, allowing warmth and sunshine to return. Throughout their adventure, Lily and Arcturus encountered various magical creatures that called the snowy realms their home. They met the graceful snow foxes, who guided travelers through treacherous paths, and the mischievous snow sprites, who played harmless pranks on unsuspecting villagers. As their journey neared its end, Lily realized that she had grown in ways she couldn't have imagined. She had become confident and fearless, embracing her own magic and the responsibility that came with it. Arcturus commended her on her growth and proclaimed her as the next guardian of snow magic. With this newfound title, Lily returned to her village, bringing with her the warmth and beauty of snow magic. She shared her knowledge with others, teaching them to appreciate the wonders of winter and to embrace the magic that lies within the world around them. And so, Lily's tale of adventure and magic spread far and wide, inspiring others to believe in the extraordinary and reminding them that sometimes, the most enchanting journeys begin with a single step into the snow..
Reviews for "Snow the Magic Atripa: Witness the Beauty of a Snow-Covered Destination"
1. John - 2/5 - I was really disappointed with "Snow the Magic Atripa". The plot was weak and predictable, and the characters felt one-dimensional. I couldn't connect with any of them and found myself losing interest as the story progressed. The writing style also didn't captivate me, with repetitive descriptions and lackluster dialogue. Overall, I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone looking for a compelling and immersive fantasy read.
2. Sarah - 1/5 - "Snow the Magic Atripa" was an absolute bore for me. The pacing was incredibly slow, and it felt like the story wasn't going anywhere. The world-building was also severely lacking, leaving me confused and disconnected from the setting. I didn't care about any of the characters, as they all seemed flat and uninteresting. The book failed to engage me from start to finish, and I struggled to find any redeeming qualities. Save your time and skip this one.
3. Michael - 2/5 - I found "Snow the Magic Atripa" to be a frustrating read. The writing style was overly descriptive, to the point of feeling tedious. The author seemed more focused on painting detailed scenes than advancing the plot or developing meaningful characters. The story lacked depth and substance, and I struggled to stay engaged. While I appreciate a well-crafted atmosphere, this book took it to an extreme that made it hard to enjoy. I wouldn't recommend it to those seeking a fast-paced and plot-driven fantasy novel.
4. Emily - 2/5 - Despite the intriguing premise, "Snow the Magic Atripa" fell flat for me. The story had potential, but it failed to deliver on its promises. The characters lacked development, and their actions often felt forced or illogical. The pacing was inconsistent, with slow moments that dragged on and rushed resolutions that left loose ends unresolved. I wanted to enjoy this book, but I couldn't overlook its flaws. Overall, I found it to be a disappointing and underwhelming read.