[In the following excerpt, Panny explicates the short story "Snowman, Snowman" as an allegory.]

Whom we might meet as we pass into the "for ever" of death is one of the questions posed in The Edge of the Alphabet; the story "Snowman, Snowman" considers the nature of the destination, the "place" where one is to live "for ever and ever." . . . ["Snowman, Snowman" is] a skilfully composed allegory focused on fundamental human concerns. Other stories by Frame can be read as parables or fables, but the near-novella length of this one sets it apart. In "Snowman, Snowman" there is no emphasis on character to mask or detract from the allegorical intention: the protagonists are a snowman and a snowflake.

Published in 1963, "Snowman, Snowman" was the title story in the volume Snowman, Snowman: Fables and Fantasies. Frame's longest story, it was one of those she chose to be reprinted in the 1983 collection You Are Now Entering the Human Heart. It is a tale of a talking snowman who looks on the world with wondering eyes and a questioning mind. His mentor, the Perpetual Snowflake stationed on a nearby windowsill, helps him to interpret what he sees. The action is confined to part of a street that is within Snowman's range of vision, although the Perpetual Snowflake provides histories and anecdotes about neighbourhood families. The story's tension derives from the irony of Snowman's belief that he is immortal, and the reader's knowledge that he will soon melt.

If the story is read as an allegory, Snowman corresponds to man, who is thus depicted as shapeless, cold and inflexible. Ironically, humans like to see themselves as versatile, warm and distinctive. Furthermore, man's tenure on earth is scarcely more secure than that of Snowman. There is an invisible "germ cell" waiting to claim human victims: "a germ cell like a great sleeping beast lies curled upon the . . . doorstep, tethered to past centuries." The sleeping beast, which at any moment may awaken to infect or consume, mocks human complacency. In the context of "past centuries", a man's life becomes as brief as a snowman's.

Though a critic of human self-deception, Snowman unwittingly deceives himself: "I talk of the sun but I do not believe in it." In spite of his apparent disbelief, he tries to protect himself against its heat. The Perpetual Snowflake is impatient with him: '"You are a fool of course. As self-centred as any human being. You imagine newspapers are printed to shelter you from the sun.'" But Snowman believes himself to be superior to man. Though told by a passing sparrow that he is in prison, Snowman, with specious reasoning, arrives at a conclusion he finds comfortable. He considers immobility advantageous. Instead of the danger of being whirled through the air as drifting snow, Snowman is "preserved, made safe against death." He thinks that humans, by contrast, are mortal and vanish swiftly: "I would not believe vanishing was possible if I did not observe it happening each day—around corners, into the sky, behind doors, gates, hedges." There is wit and charm in Snowman's candour. But the fixity of his perception and his limited mind and vision are recognisable as human failings.

We are amused that Snowman should consider himself "preserved" until, with a certain shock, we come to see that his attitudes mirror our own. Snowman's complacency is shared by those who consider themselves to be privileged, 'made safe', if not in this world, then in the next. Snowman asks, "I should like to know of the place where I am to live for ever and ever. Tell me." But the request is not answered. Snowman does not associate his own future dwelling-place with that of Rosemary, who died shortly after making him. The Perpetual Snowflake asserts that "the rain will treat her as earth . . . and new streams form and flow from her body to the clay and back again with circular inclusion flesh clay flesh." She survives in the memories of those who have known her: "the dead . . . drop like parachutists to the darkness of memory and survive there because they are buckled and strapped to the white imperishable strength of having known and been known." Many people, like Snowman, prefer to imagine an ideal dwelling-place.

This, however, is only one aspect of Frame's allegory. Snowman also says: "I have been made Man . . . Is it not a privilege to be made Man?" The words echo the Nicene Creed:

Who for us men, and for our salvation came down from heaven, And was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary And was made man,

The suggestion is that Snowman is also a Christ-like figure. Christ is "as white as snow" (Revelations 1:14); Snowman is 'innocent'—"I am the white page." In Revelations, Christ "cometh with clouds." (1:7) Snowman descended to earth with other flakes that could be seen "paratrooping in clouds of silk." Revelations suggests that Christ's "eyes were as a flame of fire." (1:14) Snowman has "coal-black pine-forest eyes." Fire is his enemy: "I have been so afraid of fire. I did not know that I contained it within the sight of my eyes and that when I gazed upon the sun the dreaded fire would originate from myself . . . all my life I have carried fire." Dying is, indeed, an integral part of living. Snowman's words, spoken as he is melting, render ironical the earlier lines: "I have no passion. Is this why I shall live forever?" "Passion" takes on the Christian implication of suffering and death as part of a divine purpose. As he melts, Snowman discovers his own kind of suffering which bears upon him like a weight, bowing his shoulders. He is also threatened by a sharp rod-like weapon, suggesting the spear that pierced Christ's side. It is an icicle whose melting mingles with the black blood from his body. His snow bleeds from its "wounds of light." There is reference to "weeping," "thorns," a halo of light: "this bright light surrounding me." Although unaware of his identification with Christ, Snowman re-enacts a crucifixion, his adversaries being the forces of nature, the warm wind and the sun.

The significance of the link between Snowman and Christ is reinforced by the role of the Perpetual Snowflake. Snowman asks, "Who is the Perpetual Snowflake? I never knew him before, though our family is Snowflake." The Perpetual Snowflake is not mocked. His wisdom seems infinite. A "visitor from beyond the earth," he is aware of people's inner thoughts and subtle motivations. "People do not cry because it is the end. They cry because the end does not correspond with their imagination of it." At one point, Snowman announces that he no longer trusts the Perpetual Snowflake: "Since he spoke of the gap in the sky and the sun I have not trusted him." The remark casts no doubt on the integrity of the Perpetual Snowflake, but makes Snowman look foolish. The contrast between the two is sharpened by the ridiculing of Snowman through irony.

The voice of the Perpetual Snowflake is like a voice from heaven. "'Snowman, Snowman,' my creator said." These words appear on the story's first page. One assumes that they are spoken by Rosemary Dincer who, Snowman tells us, "made me to stand in her front garden." But the voice at the story's conclusion reiterating "Snowman, Snowman!" is that of the Perpetual Snowflake, implying that Snowman was called to life by the Perpetual Snowflake, his 'real' creator. The double appellation appears in the Bible when the Lord addresses a specially chosen person; "Moses, Moses" (Exodus 3:4) and "Samuel, Samuel" (I Samuel 3:10) are two examples. An allegorical parallel is suggested, therefore, between the Perpetual Snowflake and the Creator.

The image of a Perpetual Snowflake is fraught with paradox and therefore open to different interpretations. Pure (in the most literal sense) he may be transformed into a vapour. His physical presence manifests perfect order and crystalline beauty, which depends on the capacity to reflect light. Like any remarkable work of nature, a snowflake occasions wonder and respect. In addition, the Perpetual Snowflake, as old as the world itself, is an example of nature's ancient and enduring memory.

The Perpetual Snowflake is indeed immortal, since he reforms with the same beauty and perfection every winter. By mingling with the elements after he melts, Snowman too may be said to live "for ever and ever" in the form of ice, water, or cloud particles. In an ironic reversal, the photograph of Snowman that did not "turn out" shows "Solid brick, wood and stone" as "unsubstantial", while everything covered with snow becomes "strong and bold . . . capable of withstanding ordeal by season and sun." Winter snow will return season after season, but buildings will be worn away.

Like the Perpetual Snowflake, Snowman is an equivocal image. He might be viewed as a travesty of Christ. Or he could be said to mock a simplistic concept of Christ. There is a caustic edge to the statement, "You ought to be proud, Snowman, to have so changed the face of the earth, to have reduced it to such a terrible simplicity that people are blinded if they gaze upon it." The words are an obvious and innocent statement of fact, for snow can cause blindness and it does indeed transform the surface of the earth. But they almost certainly mock the way Christian beliefs, worldwide in their influence, have been reduced or modified to fit human requirements. Christ is 'made to measure' in the same way that children make snowmen to whatever size and shape they choose. "Some are seven feet tall and others are only three feet tall. . . And all have been made by children or by those whom others regard as children." A middle-aged woman named Tiny, four feet high and with the understanding of a child, makes a snowman exactly her size. When he refuses to respond as she had hoped, Tiny destroys him. Likewise, people have conceptualised Christ to fit their own expectations and have rejected him if he failed to fulfil those expectations.

Human activities provoke disparaging judgements from the Perpetual Snowflake. He mocks warmongering by likening a navy to children at play: "they press buttons which open snow-white umbrellas above the sea . . . the candy floss of death licked by small boys from the hate and fear blossoming on the tall wooden sticks." He is alluding to H-bombs and rocket-fire.

"Snowman, Snowman" examines the concept of immortality. It also re-enacts the story of Christ's death in such a way as to demand reappraisal of its significance, while allowing a range of readings. One would be that the spiritual and immortal exist, not in theological constructs and conceptions, but in the miraculous forms of nature and the energies of the changing seasons. The divine resides in the mysterious memory stored in seeds, spores and ova, and in human memory with its endless capacity for re-creation. This philosophy is reiterated in The Carpathians, Frame's most recent novel. Here, she describes memory as "a naked link, a point, diamond-size, seed-size, coded in a code of the world, of the human race; a passionately retained deliberate focus on all creatures and their worlds to ensure their survival." To the Perpetual Snowflake, it seems that "seed is shed also at the moment of death." The dead are part of the earth's inheritance; it draws "new forces of life from the mingled grass and sand and dead human flesh."

"Man is indeed simplicity," for it seems that he resists or misinterprets the more profound truths. Nonetheless, Janet Frame has shaped a story of considerable complexity. Instead of endorsing a body of knowledge in the manner of traditional allegories, "Snowman, Snowman" questions old certainties. The tale subverts our expectations, making the allegory ironical. Though he considers himself knowledgeable and competent, modern man is shown, in his "simplicity", to depend on material goods: "Coal, brass, cloth, wood." By contrast, a snowflake needs only the elements. The Perpetual Snowflake is powerful and enduring; humans, by contrast, have a brief life. The paradoxes are startling.