I hardly ever watch thrillers, since I get emotionally over-involved in them, and hence nervous. However, I was fascinated by the premise of this novel when I first read a review of it–Smilla who can read snow. I remember studying in linguistics that people find words for what is important to them. The Eskimos, for instance, are supposed to have 17 words to describe snow.
I wanted to read this book about this woman who could read snow. But time being the finite element that is, I watched the film instead.
It has the rarefied unsmiling quality of most Scandinavian films, but it also a totally gripping story of the conflict between big business whose money reaches up and down the corridors of power and society, and an individual determined to find the murderer of a six year old boy, even if it kills her. I particularly liked the portrayal of the six year old doomed boy, Isaiah, and his relationship with Smilla.
We watched it on a lethargic Sunday when we couldn’t find the energy to do anything else. I can think of worse ways of spending an evening.