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Fifty Words for Snow
From Japanese 'snow women' to Icelandic 'dog's paws,' Campbell provides a wonderfully wintry compendium of worldwide monikers for the white stuff along with the fascinating stories behind them in this exquisite volume.
Snow. Every language has its own words for the feather-like flakes that come from the sky. In Japanese we find Yuki-onna - a 'snow woman' who drifts through the frosted land. In Icelandic falls Hundslappadrifa - 'big as a dog's paw'. And in Maori we meet Huka-rere - 'one of the children of rain and wind'.
From mountain tops and frozen seas to city parks and desert hills, writer and Arctic traveller Nancy Campbell digs deep into the meanings of fifty words for snow. Under her gaze, each of these linguistic snow crystals offers a whole world of myth and story.
Snow. Every language has its own words for the feather-like flakes that come from the sky. In Japanese we find Yuki-onna - a 'snow woman' who drifts through the frosted land. In Icelandic falls Hundslappadrifa - 'big as a dog's paw'. And in Maori we meet Huka-rere - 'one of the children of rain and wind'.
From mountain tops and frozen seas to city parks and desert hills, writer and Arctic traveller Nancy Campbell digs deep into the meanings of fifty words for snow. Under her gaze, each of these linguistic snow crystals offers a whole world of myth and story.
221 pages, Paperback
First published November 5, 2020
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 198 reviews
January 14, 2022
Writer and poet Nancy Campbell forages for stories of snow in different languages and cultural contexts. She traces its presence and shifting connotations across landscapes, in history, literature, art and folklore: from the supernatural Yuki-onna (snow woman) said to wander Japan’s snowiest regions to the Icelandic Hundslappadrifa (snowflakes big as a dog’s paw); the Tibetan snow lotus; Kardelen (Turkish snowdrops); and kavadagur (snow days) on the Faroe Islands. Campbell’s writing’s carefully sculpted, thoughtful and meditative but she doesn’t shy away from considering the scale of the transformations brought about by climate change, which gives this a slightly elegiac quality at times. With its mix of tantalising, miniature essays, and pieces approaching prose poetry, this is a highly engaging book, ideal for dipping into, and it made me keen to read more of Campbell’s work. Campbell's words are accompanied by a series of beautifully-realised illustrations taken from the work of American meteorologist and photographer Wilson Bentley, famous for his ground-breaking images of snowflakes.
Thanks to Netgalley and publishers Elliott and Thompson for an arc
Thanks to Netgalley and publishers Elliott and Thompson for an arc
December 6, 2021
There is much poignant art and literature about polar purity and silence, but the longer I spent among the snow, the more I suspected such tropes are born of luxury and distance. It is a view that overwrites the peopled landscape, ignores the tracks of sleds and snowmobiles that cross it, the busy burrows and root systems beneath it. As time passed and I looked more closely, I realised snow does not always appear white. As I listened more carefully, I realised that snow was not silent. I spoke to those who worked with snow, from Inuit hunters to Scottish hill farmers, and noticed that their traditional knowledge was often enshrined in highly differentiated vocabularies. Fifty Words for Snow is a journey to discover snow in cultures around the world through different languages.
I don’t know what I thought I would get from Fifty Words for Snow — its description made me think that it would have something to do with how culture shapes language and how language then reflects culture in return; and further, how declining rates of snow will contribute to losses of culture and language — and as a resident of Canada, I thought there would be something for me to identify with here. But for the most part, there wasn’t much. Author Nancy Campbell — a poet and essayist — has lived and worked in Arctic landscapes, and with an interest in how climate change is impacting those landscapes (and the people still trying to eke out a traditional life within them) and with a partner whose stroke-induced aphasia has made her more attuned to “the complexity of language loss”, I was somehow set up to expect more from this. What there is: Literally, fifty words for snow from languages around the world, followed by an essay (from a paragraph to many pages) that gives some context for how the word is used (whether in everyday use, mythology/literature, or the sciences) , each accompanied by a gorgeous photo of a snowflake by Wilson Bentley (1865-1931, the first known person to take detailed photographs of snowflakes and record their features). What is missing: A through theme or analysis or overarching conclusion; this is more coffee table book than narrative nonfiction (and to be fair, I wasn’t promised more than a coffee table book). (Note: I read an ARC through NetGalley and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)
Pana snow knife (Inuktitut: ᐸᓇ) / Sparrow batch spring snow (Newfoundland English)
To begin my thoughts close to home, it was annoying to me that Campbell referred to Canada’s largest and most northern territory as “the state of Nunavut”, adding “Nunavut is also the newest state”. (We have provinces and territories in Canada — there are no geographical or political areas or communities we would refer to as “states” — and even googling the word for its generic definition doesn’t satisfactorily describe Nunavut.) Later, Campbell writes that the residents of Newfoundland refer to their island dialect as “Newfinese”, and that’s a word I’ve never heard used before. All of this to say: If I don’t recognise Canada (definitely a snowy country) in the two mentions made of it in a book on snow, I don’t know how far I can trust the author to tell me about other snow-bound cultures. Many of the words that Campbell has chosen are sourced from polar countries, but she seems to have found more delight in sharing words from cultures we don’t necessarily equate with snow: from Hawaiian (Hau kea, white snow; “most likely to be found on a simmering crater”), to Thai (H̄ima, snow; useful to describe the one time it allegedly snowed in Thailand in recorded history, in 1955), and Amharic (Barado, snow or hail, used in the debate among early European explorers over the presence of snow in the Ethiopian mountains). When it comes to the literary, it was more meaningful to me to learn about the word Snemand (snowman, Danish) and how it was used in a famous story by Hans Christian Andersen than the chapter on Calóg shneachta (snowflake, Irish) that then goes on to recount James Joyce’s “The Dead” and a conversation about snow that happens at a party (what Campbell cites as “one of the most famous mentions of snow in literature.”) The shortest chapter reads, in its entirety:
Cheotnun first snow (Korean: 첫눈) The word for snow in Korean, nun, is the same word as is used for ‘eye’. And so if you experience the first snowfall of the year – cheotnun – with someone you have eyes for, it is said that true love will drift into your arms.
I don’t know if I find that as complete an entry as the Inuit process of building an iglu, and it’s this feeling of unevenness that makes this collection feel themeless. But there were many interesting tidbits I learned along the way:
• Immiaq melted ice or snow; beer (Greenlandic) The great glacier Sermeq Kujalleq...calves around 46 km3 of ice every year – an amount that would cover the annual water consumption of the USA.
• Seaŋáš granulated snow (Sámi of Norway) while there are around one hundred Sámi terms for snow, the words relating to reindeer are estimated at over a thousand.
• Jäätee ice road (Estonian) Drivers must keep to speeds of between 25 km/ h and 40 km/ h – the lower limit is important. No stopping is allowed. This is a precaution against changes to the car’s rate of progress causing a wave under the ice; if such a wave accumulates it can be strong enough to crack it. For the same reason vehicles must travel at least two minutes apart, and so drivers wait at the shore for a green light before they set out. These strict safety measures are accompanied by an unexpected road rule: it’s forbidden to wear seatbelts, because drivers and passengers might have to exit the car speedily in the event of the ice cracking.
And I did connect with the mythological — and only wish there was more of this — as with Yuki-onna snow woman (Japanese: 雪女):
Are all human encounters with the elements so ill-fated? Is it possible to keep our most profound dealings with nature a secret? Will the snows stay forever, or will winter turn to spring? Whether the yuki-onna is a malevolent ghost stealing lonely lives in the wilderness or a supernatural beauty living in disguise among humans, she affirms the transformative qualities of snow.
(I also didn’t know that Japan has the deepest snowfalls in the world — 40m/year in the Japanese Alps — and that there is a highway known as the Snow Corridor that travels between 20m high snow walls; I would love to see that.) So: I would have liked more of this — more writing about actually snowy countries and how that snow influences their lives and their mythologies, with a touch of authorial analysis thrown in — but again, I wasn’t actually promised that and another reader might be completely pleased with what is to be found here. Middle of the road three stars for me.
October 10, 2020
I loved The Library of Ice: Readings from a Cold Climate and so I was really looking forward to reading Fifty Words for Snow. It is what it says. In 50 short chapters, a word or phrase for snow is mulled over. We travel from Scotland to the Highlands of Papua, New Guinea, from Patagonia to Nunavut, learning new words for snow or snow-related words and phrases, their origins, meanings and uses. The latter are often crucial for understanding and surviving in difficult living conditions, in places like Siberia or Nunavut, for example.
It’s an enjoyable read but I was really disappointed that it doesn’t have the depth of The Library of Ice: Readings from a Cold Climate, a similar journey but one taken to learn about ice rather than snow and with a personal element to it. Fifty Words for Snow is more of a coffee table book. For that reason, I feel quite dissatisfied with it. Nancy Campbell is an excellent, thoughtful writer who can produce work that is so much more substantial than this. 3.5 stars.
With thanks to NetGalley and Elliott & Thompson for a review copy.
It’s an enjoyable read but I was really disappointed that it doesn’t have the depth of The Library of Ice: Readings from a Cold Climate, a similar journey but one taken to learn about ice rather than snow and with a personal element to it. Fifty Words for Snow is more of a coffee table book. For that reason, I feel quite dissatisfied with it. Nancy Campbell is an excellent, thoughtful writer who can produce work that is so much more substantial than this. 3.5 stars.
With thanks to NetGalley and Elliott & Thompson for a review copy.
January 8, 2022
Skaista ziemas grāmata, kas der gan paša priekam, gan dāvināšanai. 50 sniega vārdi, kas papildināti ar sniegpārslu fotogrāfijām no Vilsona Bentlija arhīviem. Kā jau tādām grāmatām piedien - ir interesantāki stāsti un ir tādi, kas sniegam pievilkti aiz ausīm. Un tad ir tādi kā tas par cīruļputeni - tik izjusti un dzejiski, ka sirsniņa dzied līdzi. Sirsniņa gan nevar noturēt toni, bet tas jau nav svarīgi.
“Urban snow is dependent on a particular set of timings and conditions, almost as miraculous coincidence as falling in love.”
“Urban snow is dependent on a particular set of timings and conditions, almost as miraculous coincidence as falling in love.”
July 7, 2023
This is a book of such quality it demands multiple revisits. Littered with fascinating insights into snow and its cultural, environmental, political and natural impact on fifty countries.
Published by the wonderful Elliott and Thompson who've an array of outstanding titles in their collection.
Fifty Words for Snow is a compendium of etymology and geography, exploring rich thematic links:
- A history of photography in Eastern equatorial Africa.
- Snow in the City and the subsequent eerie atmosphere it conjures.
- The obliteration of our landscapes at the cost of human activity and exploration in Tibet as the the snow lotus becomes endangered.
- A case study into one of the few Inuit novels (Saanaq), the brutality of the Arctic and constructing the igloo.
- The unnerving driving experience on the deadly silent, frozen sea freeways of Estonia.
A very fulfilling read, but also a stark warning of the catastrophic effects of climate change. If there's one book to put on your TBR pile, make it this!
Published by the wonderful Elliott and Thompson who've an array of outstanding titles in their collection.
Fifty Words for Snow is a compendium of etymology and geography, exploring rich thematic links:
- A history of photography in Eastern equatorial Africa.
- Snow in the City and the subsequent eerie atmosphere it conjures.
- The obliteration of our landscapes at the cost of human activity and exploration in Tibet as the the snow lotus becomes endangered.
- A case study into one of the few Inuit novels (Saanaq), the brutality of the Arctic and constructing the igloo.
- The unnerving driving experience on the deadly silent, frozen sea freeways of Estonia.
A very fulfilling read, but also a stark warning of the catastrophic effects of climate change. If there's one book to put on your TBR pile, make it this!
November 2, 2020
Nancy Campbell has been a writer on my radar for such a long time now, but I had yet to pick up one of her books - until, that is, a gorgeous hardback edition of her newest effort, Fifty Words for Snow, landed on my doorstep. It really appealed to the cold weather enthusiast in me, and it felt like a wonderful choice to incorporate into my autumnal reading, particularly as the days are getting steadily colder.
The idea for Fifty Words for Snow was born from Campbell's research on ice. She was a Writer in Residence in Greenland during the winter of 2010, at the most northerly museum in the world, and her surroundings sparked this interest within her. Much of her work since - a decade spent on the 'changing language and landscape of the Arctic' - has revolved around cold weather, and what it means to us.
At this point in her life, Campbell tells us in her introduction, '... I was seeking to escape the distractions of a capital city. I needed white noise... There is much poignant art and literature about polar purity and silence, but the longer I spent among the snow [in Greenland], the more I suspected such tropes are born of luxury and distance. It is a view that overwrites the peopled landscape, ignores the tracks of sleds and snowmobiles that cross it, the busy burrows and root systems beneath it. As time passed and I looked more closely, I realised snow does not always appear white. As I listened more carefully, I realised that snow was not silent.'
As its title indicates, Fifty Words for Snow gives fifty international words for snow, many of them denoting very specific kinds. Campbell 'digs deep into the meanings and etymologies, the histories and the futures of fifty words for snow from across the world, using them as clues to the many ways in which we are all connected to one another and to our planet.' She writes about the shifting landscapes, as snow patterns change across the world: 'Just as the ecosystem is changing, so are the languages that describe it and the way they are understood.' Of her project, and her sustained interest within it, Campbell explains: 'The process of tracing a single theme across many languages new to me seemed a powerful way to overcome the borders that were going up around the world.'
In her introduction, Campbell notes that 'every language and culture has its own word for the magical, mesmerising flakes that fall from the sky.' The words which the author has drawn together here come from a wealth of different languages and cultures: they range from Latvian and Scots, to Thai and Kashmiri; from Maōri and Mongolian, to Newfoundland English and Faroese. Some of the languages which Campbell has chosen to use are endangered, sometimes used by just a single community.
Each word which Campbell writes about - all of them randomly rather than geographically ordered, which I found an interesting touch - forms a short yet precise chapter. Some of these chapters, indeed, are only a paragraph or two long; others are far more detailed. Each begins with the chosen word and the language which it comes from, and then gives its specific translation, some of which are wonderfully precise. The Icelandic hundslappadrífa, for instance, means 'snowflakes big as a dog's paw'. In Finnish, tykky means 'thick snow and frost that accumulates on tree branches and other structures.' The Japanese word yuki-onna denotes a snow-woman, whose 'skin is cold; her hair is silver; she dresses in white.'
Around the world, snow 'may be welcomed, feared, played with or prized.' Campbell is constantly aware of the reliance which different cultures have upon the snow. The Sámi language, for instance, 'reflects the herders' intimate relationship with their environment. The rich terminology for snow and ice includes words to describe the way snow falls, where it lies, its depth, density and temperature.'
Throughout, Campbell touches upon so many subjects. She writes about shepherds in the Scottish Borders, Greenlandic microbreweries, snowboarding, environmentally friendly fake snow made specifically for use on film sets, polar exploration, the building of igloos, avalanche prevention, and even the inspiration of snowy climates on the flags of several countries.
Fifty Words for Snow is both thoughtful and thorough. Campbell's prose is lyrical, and holds such beauty about it. This work of non-fiction is clearly a labour of love, and it is a perfect choice to dip in and out of or, indeed, to read all in one go. Campbell's book is far-reaching; she has tapped into so many languages and cultures, and gives fascinating details throughout. It will certainly make a lovely gift for the festive season, and there is something wonderfully comforting about it, too.
The idea for Fifty Words for Snow was born from Campbell's research on ice. She was a Writer in Residence in Greenland during the winter of 2010, at the most northerly museum in the world, and her surroundings sparked this interest within her. Much of her work since - a decade spent on the 'changing language and landscape of the Arctic' - has revolved around cold weather, and what it means to us.
At this point in her life, Campbell tells us in her introduction, '... I was seeking to escape the distractions of a capital city. I needed white noise... There is much poignant art and literature about polar purity and silence, but the longer I spent among the snow [in Greenland], the more I suspected such tropes are born of luxury and distance. It is a view that overwrites the peopled landscape, ignores the tracks of sleds and snowmobiles that cross it, the busy burrows and root systems beneath it. As time passed and I looked more closely, I realised snow does not always appear white. As I listened more carefully, I realised that snow was not silent.'
As its title indicates, Fifty Words for Snow gives fifty international words for snow, many of them denoting very specific kinds. Campbell 'digs deep into the meanings and etymologies, the histories and the futures of fifty words for snow from across the world, using them as clues to the many ways in which we are all connected to one another and to our planet.' She writes about the shifting landscapes, as snow patterns change across the world: 'Just as the ecosystem is changing, so are the languages that describe it and the way they are understood.' Of her project, and her sustained interest within it, Campbell explains: 'The process of tracing a single theme across many languages new to me seemed a powerful way to overcome the borders that were going up around the world.'
In her introduction, Campbell notes that 'every language and culture has its own word for the magical, mesmerising flakes that fall from the sky.' The words which the author has drawn together here come from a wealth of different languages and cultures: they range from Latvian and Scots, to Thai and Kashmiri; from Maōri and Mongolian, to Newfoundland English and Faroese. Some of the languages which Campbell has chosen to use are endangered, sometimes used by just a single community.
Each word which Campbell writes about - all of them randomly rather than geographically ordered, which I found an interesting touch - forms a short yet precise chapter. Some of these chapters, indeed, are only a paragraph or two long; others are far more detailed. Each begins with the chosen word and the language which it comes from, and then gives its specific translation, some of which are wonderfully precise. The Icelandic hundslappadrífa, for instance, means 'snowflakes big as a dog's paw'. In Finnish, tykky means 'thick snow and frost that accumulates on tree branches and other structures.' The Japanese word yuki-onna denotes a snow-woman, whose 'skin is cold; her hair is silver; she dresses in white.'
Around the world, snow 'may be welcomed, feared, played with or prized.' Campbell is constantly aware of the reliance which different cultures have upon the snow. The Sámi language, for instance, 'reflects the herders' intimate relationship with their environment. The rich terminology for snow and ice includes words to describe the way snow falls, where it lies, its depth, density and temperature.'
Throughout, Campbell touches upon so many subjects. She writes about shepherds in the Scottish Borders, Greenlandic microbreweries, snowboarding, environmentally friendly fake snow made specifically for use on film sets, polar exploration, the building of igloos, avalanche prevention, and even the inspiration of snowy climates on the flags of several countries.
Fifty Words for Snow is both thoughtful and thorough. Campbell's prose is lyrical, and holds such beauty about it. This work of non-fiction is clearly a labour of love, and it is a perfect choice to dip in and out of or, indeed, to read all in one go. Campbell's book is far-reaching; she has tapped into so many languages and cultures, and gives fascinating details throughout. It will certainly make a lovely gift for the festive season, and there is something wonderfully comforting about it, too.
November 15, 2020
I dare you not to fall in love with this beautiful book…in fact once you open it and see a stunning snowflake on a blue background you’d have to be some kind of insane robot not to go ooooohhhh!!!! I am a massive fan of snow, from days off school to walking the dog during the winter, hearing that crunch as you break through virgin snow is perfection….It’s why I save up my leave and take December off work each year in the hope of having some snow.
When I started this book I was expecting to have fifty chapters each based on a word for snow but it is so much more than that. Campbell takes you on a journey around the world to see how snow has affected different cultures, she takes you places you would never associate with snow, Thailand, Hawaii and Ethiopia are three places I would never have considered having snow. I loved reading the stories and myths based around the origins of the words, being English the word snow to me means “that white cold stuff that causes people to drive like crazy and crash their cars” but to other cultures their words have so much more depth, quite often based around a tragedy. There is a lot to learn here too, a bit of science here and there and interesting facts like the coldest city, you’ll never guess it.
Climate change gets covered here and it is always shocking the effect this is having on the world, so many people rely on snow and ice and it’s gradual retreat is heart-breaking. Another hard subject was how some languages are spoken by less and less people, it’s sad how there is a chance that some could vanish forever, there is hope though, I think it is great that the app Duolingo increases awareness of old languages and is inspiring many people to learn them, an impressive number of people took up Gaelic when it was added.
Two of the most impressive additions to this book was that Campbell included Sign Language, so often books on words miss out that language, kudos to Campbell for including it. Also I loved that fact that fake snow gets a mention, quite often the snow in movies is all many people get to see, it may not be real snow but it is still important.
I do have one gripe with the book, some words are so strange that I had no idea how to pronounce them, it really could have done with a guide on how to say them out loud, in the end I just had to wing it. One of my favourite was “Kunstschnee” I’m pretty sure I was pronouncing that one wrong. Another fantastic word was from Iceland, Hundslappadrifa, a wonderful language.
This was a very interesting read and because the book is so stunning it would make the perfect Christmas gift for any reader out there.
Blog review: https://felcherman.wordpress.com/2020...
When I started this book I was expecting to have fifty chapters each based on a word for snow but it is so much more than that. Campbell takes you on a journey around the world to see how snow has affected different cultures, she takes you places you would never associate with snow, Thailand, Hawaii and Ethiopia are three places I would never have considered having snow. I loved reading the stories and myths based around the origins of the words, being English the word snow to me means “that white cold stuff that causes people to drive like crazy and crash their cars” but to other cultures their words have so much more depth, quite often based around a tragedy. There is a lot to learn here too, a bit of science here and there and interesting facts like the coldest city, you’ll never guess it.
Climate change gets covered here and it is always shocking the effect this is having on the world, so many people rely on snow and ice and it’s gradual retreat is heart-breaking. Another hard subject was how some languages are spoken by less and less people, it’s sad how there is a chance that some could vanish forever, there is hope though, I think it is great that the app Duolingo increases awareness of old languages and is inspiring many people to learn them, an impressive number of people took up Gaelic when it was added.
Two of the most impressive additions to this book was that Campbell included Sign Language, so often books on words miss out that language, kudos to Campbell for including it. Also I loved that fact that fake snow gets a mention, quite often the snow in movies is all many people get to see, it may not be real snow but it is still important.
I do have one gripe with the book, some words are so strange that I had no idea how to pronounce them, it really could have done with a guide on how to say them out loud, in the end I just had to wing it. One of my favourite was “Kunstschnee” I’m pretty sure I was pronouncing that one wrong. Another fantastic word was from Iceland, Hundslappadrifa, a wonderful language.
This was a very interesting read and because the book is so stunning it would make the perfect Christmas gift for any reader out there.
Blog review: https://felcherman.wordpress.com/2020...
January 12, 2021
Campbell is fascinated by the White Stuff; her first book, The Library of Ice was about exploring the solid yet impermanent nature of ice. This is sort of a sequel to that book, and she was inspired to write it after that book and the time she spent in Greenland at the most northerly museum on the planet. It is always thought that the Inuit had at least fifty words for snow, but that has been proved to be a bit of a myth. They do have more words than English though.
What Campbell has done though is trawled through all sorts of languages to discover what their words are. She brings to life words from places that you’d expect, Japan, Scotland, Russia and Sweden. But there are words from places that I wasn’t expecting, Hawaii, Isreal and even Thailand, a place where you’d never expect it to snow.
Each word is prefaced by the wonderful photographs of Wilson Bentley who was the first know photographer of snowflakes. And there are some wonderful words in there too, so if you want to know the what kunstschnee, tykky and sniegas mean. Or you can learn what language needs a word for sharp ridges on the snow, what wind transported snow is, or what they call a snowman in Danish then this is the books for you.
Sadly, we rarely get snow here in Dorset, but as I sit here writing this review I have been updating a weather account that I follow on Twitter tracing the flurries of snow on New Years Day 2021 as it crosses Dorset. It didn’t quite make it from Blandford to Wimborne though, so we sadly had none. Not only is this a fascinating list of words, but it is a beautifully produced book, with a stunning cover and endpapers as well as the white and blue images of snowflakes all the way through.
What Campbell has done though is trawled through all sorts of languages to discover what their words are. She brings to life words from places that you’d expect, Japan, Scotland, Russia and Sweden. But there are words from places that I wasn’t expecting, Hawaii, Isreal and even Thailand, a place where you’d never expect it to snow.
Each word is prefaced by the wonderful photographs of Wilson Bentley who was the first know photographer of snowflakes. And there are some wonderful words in there too, so if you want to know the what kunstschnee, tykky and sniegas mean. Or you can learn what language needs a word for sharp ridges on the snow, what wind transported snow is, or what they call a snowman in Danish then this is the books for you.
Sadly, we rarely get snow here in Dorset, but as I sit here writing this review I have been updating a weather account that I follow on Twitter tracing the flurries of snow on New Years Day 2021 as it crosses Dorset. It didn’t quite make it from Blandford to Wimborne though, so we sadly had none. Not only is this a fascinating list of words, but it is a beautifully produced book, with a stunning cover and endpapers as well as the white and blue images of snowflakes all the way through.
November 24, 2021
Der erste Wintermorgen an dem man aufwacht, und draußen die ersten Flocken rieseln sieht, ist etwas ganz besonderes. Eine tiefe Stille legt sich zusammen mit einem weißen Kleid auf die graue Welt, die nur durch ein paar Winterlichter erhellt wird.
Magisch, oder? Für mich ist es das. Schon als ich ein kleines Mädchen war, habe ich die ersten Flocken im Winter mit Freude am Fenster beobachtet und noch heute verspüre ich das gleiche Hochgefühl, wenn über Nacht der erste Schnee gefallen ist.
.
Geschichten, Gefühle und Bräuche rund um das Thema Schnee beschreibt Nancy Campbell in ihrem Buch „Fünfzig Wörter für Schnee“. In den Sprachen unserer Welt finden sich Unmengen an Wörtern, die beschreiben, was dieses Wunder der Natur so einzigartig macht und welche Bedeutung der Schnee für unterschiedliche Kulturen hat. Für die Arbeit an ihrem Buch hat sich die Autorin in den Norden Islands zurückgezogen, wo sie, umhüllt von der weißen Pracht akribische Recherche und großartige Vorarbeit für dieses einzigartige literatische Schmuckstück betrieben hat. Dieses Buch zu lesen, verbereitet im Inneren ein pures, reines Wohlgefühl wie Schnee, der an einem sonnigen Wintertag unter den Stiefeln knirscht. Dass dieses Wohlgefühl durch die zunehmende Erderwärmung gleichwohl gedämpft wird, lässt die Autorin ebenfalls anhand fundierter Daten und Fakten in ihre Texte einfließen, was dem Buch zusätzlich eine wichtige Aktualität verleiht.
Ein umfassendes, informierendes und einzigartiges Werk, das dem Schnee gewidmet ist. Gleichzeitig ist es auch eine grandiose sprachliche Reise durch Kulturen, Volksgebräuche, Märchen und Legenden, die unvergessen nachwirkt.❄️
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👉🏻aus dem Englischen von Brigitte Jakobeit
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Magisch, oder? Für mich ist es das. Schon als ich ein kleines Mädchen war, habe ich die ersten Flocken im Winter mit Freude am Fenster beobachtet und noch heute verspüre ich das gleiche Hochgefühl, wenn über Nacht der erste Schnee gefallen ist.
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Geschichten, Gefühle und Bräuche rund um das Thema Schnee beschreibt Nancy Campbell in ihrem Buch „Fünfzig Wörter für Schnee“. In den Sprachen unserer Welt finden sich Unmengen an Wörtern, die beschreiben, was dieses Wunder der Natur so einzigartig macht und welche Bedeutung der Schnee für unterschiedliche Kulturen hat. Für die Arbeit an ihrem Buch hat sich die Autorin in den Norden Islands zurückgezogen, wo sie, umhüllt von der weißen Pracht akribische Recherche und großartige Vorarbeit für dieses einzigartige literatische Schmuckstück betrieben hat. Dieses Buch zu lesen, verbereitet im Inneren ein pures, reines Wohlgefühl wie Schnee, der an einem sonnigen Wintertag unter den Stiefeln knirscht. Dass dieses Wohlgefühl durch die zunehmende Erderwärmung gleichwohl gedämpft wird, lässt die Autorin ebenfalls anhand fundierter Daten und Fakten in ihre Texte einfließen, was dem Buch zusätzlich eine wichtige Aktualität verleiht.
Ein umfassendes, informierendes und einzigartiges Werk, das dem Schnee gewidmet ist. Gleichzeitig ist es auch eine grandiose sprachliche Reise durch Kulturen, Volksgebräuche, Märchen und Legenden, die unvergessen nachwirkt.❄️
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👉🏻aus dem Englischen von Brigitte Jakobeit
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December 16, 2023
„Fünfzig Wörter für Schnee“. Die schottische Lyrikerin Nancy Campbell nimmt uns mit auf eine Entdeckungsreise durch Märchen, Legenden, Kulturen und Sprache.
Wir wissen, dass jede Schneeflocke einzigartig ist und keiner anderen gleicht. Schnee kann einen vertrauten Ort fremd erscheinen lassen und eine Wirklichkeit neugestalten. Schnee verhüllt, verbirgt, dämpft. Doch Schnee ist nicht immer still. Genauso wenig ist er immer weiß.
Nancy Campell hat sich mit verschiedenen Menschen unterhalten und in gewisser Weise ist dieses Buch auch ein Buch übers Klima. Notgedrungen ist es auch ein Blick in die Zukunft und zeigt uns, was uns entgehen wird.
Denn in vielen Ländern sehen wir jetzt schon im Winter immer weniger Schneeflocken und in einigen Ländern bereits gar keine mehr. So verändert sich unser Ökosystem – und unsere Sprache tut das auch. Vielleicht werden ein paar dieser Wörter in einigen Jahren bereits in Vergessenheit geraten sein.
Wir wissen, dass jede Schneeflocke einzigartig ist und keiner anderen gleicht. Schnee kann einen vertrauten Ort fremd erscheinen lassen und eine Wirklichkeit neugestalten. Schnee verhüllt, verbirgt, dämpft. Doch Schnee ist nicht immer still. Genauso wenig ist er immer weiß.
Nancy Campell hat sich mit verschiedenen Menschen unterhalten und in gewisser Weise ist dieses Buch auch ein Buch übers Klima. Notgedrungen ist es auch ein Blick in die Zukunft und zeigt uns, was uns entgehen wird.
Denn in vielen Ländern sehen wir jetzt schon im Winter immer weniger Schneeflocken und in einigen Ländern bereits gar keine mehr. So verändert sich unser Ökosystem – und unsere Sprache tut das auch. Vielleicht werden ein paar dieser Wörter in einigen Jahren bereits in Vergessenheit geraten sein.
December 21, 2020
(2.5) Words for snow exist in most of the world’s languages – even those spoken in countries where it rarely, if ever, snows. For instance, Thai has “hima” at the ready even though there were only once claims of a snow flurry in Thailand, in 1955. Campbell meanders through history, legend, and science in these one- to five-page essays. I was most taken by the pieces on German “kunstschnee” (the fake snow used on movie sets), Icelandic “hundslappadrifa” (snowflakes big as a dog’s paw, a phrase used as a track title on one of Jónsi’s albums – an excuse for discussing the amazing Sigur Rós), and Estonian “jäätee” (the terrifying ice road that runs between the mainland and the island of Hiiumaa – only when the ice is 22 cm thick, and with cars traveling 2 minutes apart and maintaining a speed of 25–40 km/hour).
The white and blue tendrils of the naked hardback’s cover creep over onto the endpapers, each essay is headed by a Wilson Bentley photograph of a snowflake, and the type is in a subtle dark blue ink rather than black. Too many of the essays are thin or dull, such that the contents don’t live up to the gorgeous physical object they fill. Still, I imagine you have a snow-loving relative who would appreciate a copy as a seasonal coffee table book.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
The white and blue tendrils of the naked hardback’s cover creep over onto the endpapers, each essay is headed by a Wilson Bentley photograph of a snowflake, and the type is in a subtle dark blue ink rather than black. Too many of the essays are thin or dull, such that the contents don’t live up to the gorgeous physical object they fill. Still, I imagine you have a snow-loving relative who would appreciate a copy as a seasonal coffee table book.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
January 12, 2023
Schaut euch dieses wunderschöne Buch an. Und dann auch noch zum Thema Schnee! Wenn draußen schon keiner mehr liegt, kann ich mich wenigstens in eisige Welten einträumen. So dachte ich…
In Fünfzig kleinen Kapitel nimmt Nancy Campbell einzelne schneeverwandte Wörter unterschiedlichster Sprachen und Kulturen zum Anlass, kleine Anekdoten zum Besten zu geben. Sei es über Kunstschnee, Snowboarden, über “hundsohrgroße” Schneeflocken oder Bergbesteigungen auf dem Kilimandscharo. Zu beschreiben, was genau mich daran gestört hat, ist schwer, denn im Endeffekt war es leider das große Ganze: Die Texte waren für mich anorganisch, die gestreuten Fakten willkürlich und mit der Sprache zu gewollt in einen poetischen Ton gezwungen. Wir springen von einem Setting ins nächste, machen dann innerhalb der kleinen Geschichten nochmals Abstecher, sodass der Zusammenhang zu Schnee oft schon völlig abhanden gekommen scheint - um dann des Themas Willen mit zwei pseudobedeutungsvollen Sätzen wieder aufgegriffen zu werden.
Für mich hat das überhaupt nicht funktioniert. Ich habe weder Interessantes mitgenommen, noch Bezauberndes fürs Herz gefunden. Meine Schnee-Melancholie ist am Straßenrand verhungert. Mit der wirklich ganz tollen Aufmachung des Buches wird der spärliche Inhalt leider nicht mehr wettgemacht und ich musste nach ca. zwei Dritteln abbrechen.
Einzig der Schneemann. Der Schneemann von Hans Christian Andersen hat mich etwas länger verweilen lassen. Für den wertvollen Hinweis, der mich zum Originalmärchen gebracht hat, gibt’s noch einen Gnadenstern. Ansonsten leider ein dicker Flop für mich.
In Fünfzig kleinen Kapitel nimmt Nancy Campbell einzelne schneeverwandte Wörter unterschiedlichster Sprachen und Kulturen zum Anlass, kleine Anekdoten zum Besten zu geben. Sei es über Kunstschnee, Snowboarden, über “hundsohrgroße” Schneeflocken oder Bergbesteigungen auf dem Kilimandscharo. Zu beschreiben, was genau mich daran gestört hat, ist schwer, denn im Endeffekt war es leider das große Ganze: Die Texte waren für mich anorganisch, die gestreuten Fakten willkürlich und mit der Sprache zu gewollt in einen poetischen Ton gezwungen. Wir springen von einem Setting ins nächste, machen dann innerhalb der kleinen Geschichten nochmals Abstecher, sodass der Zusammenhang zu Schnee oft schon völlig abhanden gekommen scheint - um dann des Themas Willen mit zwei pseudobedeutungsvollen Sätzen wieder aufgegriffen zu werden.
Für mich hat das überhaupt nicht funktioniert. Ich habe weder Interessantes mitgenommen, noch Bezauberndes fürs Herz gefunden. Meine Schnee-Melancholie ist am Straßenrand verhungert. Mit der wirklich ganz tollen Aufmachung des Buches wird der spärliche Inhalt leider nicht mehr wettgemacht und ich musste nach ca. zwei Dritteln abbrechen.
Einzig der Schneemann. Der Schneemann von Hans Christian Andersen hat mich etwas länger verweilen lassen. Für den wertvollen Hinweis, der mich zum Originalmärchen gebracht hat, gibt’s noch einen Gnadenstern. Ansonsten leider ein dicker Flop für mich.
February 3, 2022
Thomas Browne for the this century. Campbell's book is erudite and poetic, treading across many snowy cultural fields: geography, history, mythology, linguistics, biology, geology, literature, ethnology and sociology. Like the infamously eclectic Sir Thomas Browne, Campbell writes with swirling thoughts, jumping from one thing to another, recording and analysing whatever she observes. At times, the written sections are overlong, with too much padding, but Campbell always finds some fresh insight to share. Each section is accompanied by a blue snowflake photograph by Wilson "Snowflake" Bentley who died -- ironically -- from the effects of a snowstorm. The text and photographs work very well together. This is a book to dip into day by day.
January 3, 2022
This book, while short, wasn't particularly interesting beyond one or two chapters. This book would probably be better as a big hardback coffee table book.
December 26, 2021
If you are looking for a quick wintry read with fascinating insights on snow-related language and ecological issues, this is the book! Each bite-sized chapter delves into a snow-related word in a different language and is accompanied by a beautiful photo of a magnified snowflake by Wilson Bently (1865-1931), the first known photographer of snowflakes.
There’s such an assortment of interesting information, from folklore and creation myths to reindeer herding, igloo construction, avalanche prevention and the creation of artificial snow for films. Some chapters also introduced me to the incredible shapes and colours snow/ice can assume. For example, I didn’t know what suncups, watermelon snow and penitente snow formation were before I read this.
But this is so much more than just a collection of snowy trivia with beautiful images. It is a reminder of the mesmerising diversity of snow-related natural phenomena and human practices (and how language encapsulates them) that we are rapidly losing due to global warming.
Many chapters drew my attention to how climate change drastically affects communities across the globe. Too much or too little snow can both mean trouble. For example, the renowned apple orchards in Kashmir are often blighted by untimely snowfall in recent years, while the rapid melting of the Kilimanjaro glaciers in the tropics puts local populations in serious danger of drought in the future, since the glaciers are their only source of water.
Thank you @elliottandthompson for this thought-provoking read.
There’s such an assortment of interesting information, from folklore and creation myths to reindeer herding, igloo construction, avalanche prevention and the creation of artificial snow for films. Some chapters also introduced me to the incredible shapes and colours snow/ice can assume. For example, I didn’t know what suncups, watermelon snow and penitente snow formation were before I read this.
But this is so much more than just a collection of snowy trivia with beautiful images. It is a reminder of the mesmerising diversity of snow-related natural phenomena and human practices (and how language encapsulates them) that we are rapidly losing due to global warming.
Many chapters drew my attention to how climate change drastically affects communities across the globe. Too much or too little snow can both mean trouble. For example, the renowned apple orchards in Kashmir are often blighted by untimely snowfall in recent years, while the rapid melting of the Kilimanjaro glaciers in the tropics puts local populations in serious danger of drought in the future, since the glaciers are their only source of water.
Thank you @elliottandthompson for this thought-provoking read.
January 11, 2022
A perfect introduction to nature nonfiction, which is to say short chapters waxing poetic about a variety of cultures.
Fifty Words for Snow is just as the title suggests: an abridged but potent collection of fifty international words for snow phenomena. In this book I learned about how the Inuktitut carve igloo using a special snow knife called the Pana and how the Italians used to build Neviera icehouses in the shade of mountains to keep their wine chilled. I fell in love with concepts like vicious Japanese snow women (Yuki-onna) and Spanish monk snow mirages (Penitentes). I discovered that avalanches are caused by loose connections between big snow crystals and that Scots has a word for being buried alive in a snowdrift: 'smoored'.
In just over two hundred pages, Campbell offers the world at wintertime. Granted, this involves mostly short glimpses at proud cultures and traditions, but I truly believe this is a book meant to turn casual readers onto the splendour of changing seasons. It certainly tantalised me.
Whether your interests lie in how snow affected the plans of early settlers, the many different states of hoar frost or even ideal conditions for snowboarding, one of these Fifty Words for Snow may just set off a flurry in your imagination. I recommend Fifty Words for Snow to readers who marvel at the pure beauty of cold climates.
Fifty Words for Snow is just as the title suggests: an abridged but potent collection of fifty international words for snow phenomena. In this book I learned about how the Inuktitut carve igloo using a special snow knife called the Pana and how the Italians used to build Neviera icehouses in the shade of mountains to keep their wine chilled. I fell in love with concepts like vicious Japanese snow women (Yuki-onna) and Spanish monk snow mirages (Penitentes). I discovered that avalanches are caused by loose connections between big snow crystals and that Scots has a word for being buried alive in a snowdrift: 'smoored'.
In just over two hundred pages, Campbell offers the world at wintertime. Granted, this involves mostly short glimpses at proud cultures and traditions, but I truly believe this is a book meant to turn casual readers onto the splendour of changing seasons. It certainly tantalised me.
Whether your interests lie in how snow affected the plans of early settlers, the many different states of hoar frost or even ideal conditions for snowboarding, one of these Fifty Words for Snow may just set off a flurry in your imagination. I recommend Fifty Words for Snow to readers who marvel at the pure beauty of cold climates.
October 22, 2020
This is a brilliant little book all about snow. Like the title suggests Campbell looks at fifty words from different languages for snow thus creating an extremely readable anthology on the cold stuff! This is a real mix of anthropology, sociology, geography, history, folklore and legend and of course etymology making a fascinating and engaging read. Future readers of this book should be warned however that they should be well prepared with warm layers, hot beverages and coziness while reading this as hypothermia by proxy may happen. A perfect read to dip in and out of over winter. I loved reading this.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for sending me an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for sending me an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
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December 18, 2021Very interesting. Lots of insights into other cultures- using snow as the common theme.
February 1, 2021
My final review for January is of a beautiful non-fiction Christmas gift – Fifty Words for Snow by Nancy Campbell, which seems appropriate as snow is forecast for northern Scotland for most of this week. Anyway, let’s take a moment to focus on that cover – isn’t it gorgeous? And inside, separating each definition, are soft-navy blue pages, each decorated with an individual intricate snowflake design. Even the font is a delicate blue. Can you tell I adore this book?
Campbell has collated a fascinating collection of words for snow from around the globe, but this isn’t a book just for wordsmiths or language geeks. There is something for everyone as she considers the origins of words through folklore, nature, climate change and the impact of snowy landscapes on the people who inhabit them.
It was tricky deciding which word to share, but I think this may be my favourite – Hundslappadrífa, which is Icelandic for ‘snowflakes big as a dog’s paw’. Fifty Words for Snow would make a brilliant coffee table book, as it’s both pretty to look at and great to dip into. Equally, I learned a lot by reading it from cover to cover. One to curl up with, as winter re-fastens its grip.
Campbell has collated a fascinating collection of words for snow from around the globe, but this isn’t a book just for wordsmiths or language geeks. There is something for everyone as she considers the origins of words through folklore, nature, climate change and the impact of snowy landscapes on the people who inhabit them.
It was tricky deciding which word to share, but I think this may be my favourite – Hundslappadrífa, which is Icelandic for ‘snowflakes big as a dog’s paw’. Fifty Words for Snow would make a brilliant coffee table book, as it’s both pretty to look at and great to dip into. Equally, I learned a lot by reading it from cover to cover. One to curl up with, as winter re-fastens its grip.
January 23, 2021
Such a beautiful book, inside and out. A fascinating mix of so many different languages and cultures and beliefs and myths, along with natural phenomena. Almost every chapter I was on my feet to contemplate my world map or reaching for my phone to Google snow/ice formations and unknown mountain ranges. An absolute treasury of wonders. Not quite what I was expecting from the piece in Psychologies magazine, but a delight nonetheless.
November 12, 2020
What a gorgeous book Fifty Words for Snow is, both in the cover design, the snowflake images for each word and even down to the colour of the text. The blue and white them of the cover is continued inside.
The colour for the book works well and it reminded me of older Christmas cards and scenes that show the wintery white snow that has highlights of blue.
As for the words, well they not only span cultures, countries and regions but also history, folklore and fairy tales. This is a book that I found myself picking up and reading over the course of a few days. I really liked the differences between the words and how each word was presented. Some are short one-page definitions where others span a few pages giving more details on history or include sections of stories or religious text.
Each word is its own chapter, I found that I was given the word, a brief dictionary type definition and also the language it is used in. This gave it a global feel rather than concentrating on specific regions.
I liked this book a lot and I learnt various things as I read. It is ideal for perusing through as well as just sitting down and going through each word individually. A fabulous little book, full of fascinating information about snow and all things snow-related.
Fifty Words for Snow is a great book and one I would definitely recommend for those who like to find new words, learn about different cultures and experience new stories from around the world.
The colour for the book works well and it reminded me of older Christmas cards and scenes that show the wintery white snow that has highlights of blue.
As for the words, well they not only span cultures, countries and regions but also history, folklore and fairy tales. This is a book that I found myself picking up and reading over the course of a few days. I really liked the differences between the words and how each word was presented. Some are short one-page definitions where others span a few pages giving more details on history or include sections of stories or religious text.
Each word is its own chapter, I found that I was given the word, a brief dictionary type definition and also the language it is used in. This gave it a global feel rather than concentrating on specific regions.
I liked this book a lot and I learnt various things as I read. It is ideal for perusing through as well as just sitting down and going through each word individually. A fabulous little book, full of fascinating information about snow and all things snow-related.
Fifty Words for Snow is a great book and one I would definitely recommend for those who like to find new words, learn about different cultures and experience new stories from around the world.
October 21, 2020
In Fifty Words for Snow, Nancy Campbell continues her work on the “changing landscape of the Arctic” and gifts us not only with the perfect Christmas present but a book of sheer unadulterated beauty.
Continuing the Arctic from her previous work The Library of Ice, Nancy Campbell introduces us to the word for snow in cultures around the world and what snow means and how it affects those cultures during the winter seasons. With such diverse cultures responding to Climate Change Fifty Words for Snow highlights how some of the most indigenous cultures across the world have been forced to adapt with the increasing environmental crises they have been forced to face. This is not so much a catalogue of words but a message to us all how our actions have affected not just culture but also our planet and home and the ever-decreasing Arctic and glaciers.
However, there’s not just a message in the snow, there’s takes of loss, of love and memories within every flake of Fifty Words for Snow, and what is abundantly clear from the onset is how much the Arctic has influenced Campbell in her life, from spending time in her youth in the Netherlands to solitude in a Salvation Army House in Ireland, as it has for countless artists throughout history. Snow and Winter have been a predominant theme throughout art, music, literature, history and folklore, spinning not just yarns for our entertainment but entwining itself within our very being.
I often find books such as this difficult to review, as Fifty Words for Snow doesn’t from the onset follow a narrative as the book contains literally fifty words for snow with stories and anecdotes accompanying each word albeit with an underlying theme: snow. However, Fifty Words for Snow is not just a description of fifty words for snow but weaves a tapestry of the world in bite-size chunks, the short stories and explorations make the book not just easy to digest but a book that weaves all our differing cultures into a single narrative. Simply wonderful!
Continuing the Arctic from her previous work The Library of Ice, Nancy Campbell introduces us to the word for snow in cultures around the world and what snow means and how it affects those cultures during the winter seasons. With such diverse cultures responding to Climate Change Fifty Words for Snow highlights how some of the most indigenous cultures across the world have been forced to adapt with the increasing environmental crises they have been forced to face. This is not so much a catalogue of words but a message to us all how our actions have affected not just culture but also our planet and home and the ever-decreasing Arctic and glaciers.
However, there’s not just a message in the snow, there’s takes of loss, of love and memories within every flake of Fifty Words for Snow, and what is abundantly clear from the onset is how much the Arctic has influenced Campbell in her life, from spending time in her youth in the Netherlands to solitude in a Salvation Army House in Ireland, as it has for countless artists throughout history. Snow and Winter have been a predominant theme throughout art, music, literature, history and folklore, spinning not just yarns for our entertainment but entwining itself within our very being.
I often find books such as this difficult to review, as Fifty Words for Snow doesn’t from the onset follow a narrative as the book contains literally fifty words for snow with stories and anecdotes accompanying each word albeit with an underlying theme: snow. However, Fifty Words for Snow is not just a description of fifty words for snow but weaves a tapestry of the world in bite-size chunks, the short stories and explorations make the book not just easy to digest but a book that weaves all our differing cultures into a single narrative. Simply wonderful!
November 5, 2020
A mesmerizing exploration of language, culture, myths, climate change, cinematic effects, you name it, through snow. Or better said through names for snow from various countries.
I loved the premise of this book and the content was just as fascinating! The start was a bit hit and miss, but as I've progressed through it, I've almost loved each and everyone of the vignettes. I'd say this is a sort of educational take on a coffee table book. Is a book you'll want to turn to over and over again, read one-two vignettes and than go about your day. No matter how many time you'll read this short essays, you'll still find them fascinating upon every new read! A delightful gift that will keep on giving!
*Book from NetGalley with many thanks to the publisher.
I loved the premise of this book and the content was just as fascinating! The start was a bit hit and miss, but as I've progressed through it, I've almost loved each and everyone of the vignettes. I'd say this is a sort of educational take on a coffee table book. Is a book you'll want to turn to over and over again, read one-two vignettes and than go about your day. No matter how many time you'll read this short essays, you'll still find them fascinating upon every new read! A delightful gift that will keep on giving!
*Book from NetGalley with many thanks to the publisher.
November 4, 2021
This completely took me by surprise!
There are 50 chapters in this book, each titled with a different word for snow from various locations around the world. Although at first glance it appears to be just about snow, this beautiful and fascinating book is more of a journey through different cultures, mythology, linguistics and climate change. The concise chapters are all so different that it never seems a chore to read and I loved all 50 of them (although my 2 favourites are Chapter 2 'Yuki-onna' and 41 'Hagelslag')
A great read for the winter and very well written.
There are 50 chapters in this book, each titled with a different word for snow from various locations around the world. Although at first glance it appears to be just about snow, this beautiful and fascinating book is more of a journey through different cultures, mythology, linguistics and climate change. The concise chapters are all so different that it never seems a chore to read and I loved all 50 of them (although my 2 favourites are Chapter 2 'Yuki-onna' and 41 'Hagelslag')
A great read for the winter and very well written.
January 26, 2023
Really enjoyed this one. Waited for a year or more to read it because I wanted there to be snow, lol. Really nice and interesting take on different words for snow and related phenomena, I would've liked a bit more insight into the languages, contexts, and cultures though. But very easy to read and so interesting.
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December 25, 2021a wonderful lovely snowy read!
January 4, 2022
Excellent book - a present - fifty words, each the basis for a short essay on nature, history, culture, science, art…and always with the spectre of climate change looming over the future.
December 23, 2022
In Anbetracht der Umstände, dass wir kaum noch Schnee haben, sehr interessant und sehr schön zu lesen.
Schnee(s) einmal um die Welt
Schnee(s) einmal um die Welt
February 21, 2025
fantastic !! so many great words, very poetically written and well paced.
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