readers to embrace the narrative's truths. Indeed, all fiction demands a suspension of disbelief, but in speculative tales, where worlds are purely imagined, it becomes an imperative.

Yet, in Winter Rose, McKillip crafts a tale where both characters and readers are left adrift in uncertainty about the authenticity of its pivotal moments. This approach aligns the book more closely with surreal literary fiction than with conventional fantasy narratives, marking a departure from McKillip’s usual style.

McKillip achieves this ethereal ambiguity predominantly through the art of metaphor. Her command of language dazzles, painting vivid pictures that captivate the senses. Some metaphors, such as "A sudden wind sang with an edged, dangerous voice," serve to bring reality to life while simultaneously hinting at the narrator's inner turmoil. Others, like "I found black-berries . . . still tasting of the summer sun," are crafted to evoke a sensory experience.

Roaming through the mind of the narrator, Rois, many of these images reflect her state of perception, leaving both her and the reader in a cloud of doubt about reality's nature. Consider, for instance, "I had seen him before he had a face," and "He walked out of a fall of light," which are among the first of Rois's descriptions of Corbet. These portrayals, like his subsequent actions and the perils he draws her into, invite multiple interpretations. One might see "He looked like the man Rois had always dreamed of," or simply visualize him stepping into sunlight. Yet, within the story's context, the first description suggests Rois's early recognition of Corbet, while the second insinuates his spectral allure as a dream or demon lover.

McKillip employs a diverse palette of natural symbols and forces, using their connotative power to forge intense images brimming with layers of meaning. Roses, for example, bloom as emblems of pristine beauty, as wildflowers thriving in summer’s abundance, as dangerous traps for the unwary, and as gateways to fiery otherworlds. Winter emerges not just as a chilly season but as a harbinger of isolation’s cost, a season that once claimed the girls' mother and now threatens Laurel. Further, it represents the condition—and sometimes even the name—of the illusory realm where Rois fights her battles.

This enigmatic handling of reality invites the reader to explore the narrative from myriad perspectives. Perhaps the events unfolded as they appear; Corbet, Rois, and Laurel are summoned from their earthly realm into one of icy allure, a place both enchanting and destructive. Or perhaps only the happenings in their village are genuine, with Rois conjuring the rest from her fevered imagination and youthful fantasies. There’s even the possibility of a folie a deux, a shared delusion born from sibling rivalry, with the sisters weaving a shadow world as they probe the mysteries of their mother's demise. These are just some of the myriad interpretations of "reality" within the novel.

Fairy tales and myths echo throughout the narrative. At times, readers may discern shades of Snow White and Rose Red, Briar Rose, the Snow Queen, Tarn Lin, and even the biblical tale of Martha and Mary. Corbet, emerging and retreating into the woods, embodies the Green Man of British lore. The curse he bears illuminates the theme of patricide and its reverberations, a motif that has intrigued Western thinkers from Sophocles to Freud.

Such motifs persist in fantasy and broader literature because they resonate with universal emotions, memories, and fears. Whether McKillip employs them with deliberate intent or they emerge naturally (in her case, likely the former), they enhance the story’s depth and reader engagement. Winter Rose captivates more through the emotional weight of these motifs and its rich, textured imagery than through mere suspension of disbelief. Immersing oneself in Winter Rose is akin to drifting through a vivid, enthralling dream.

Like many fantasy tales, Winter Rose unfolds as a quest, with Rois journeying ever deeper into the unknown and confronting entities that seek her downfall. Unlike typical quests, the story's most violent episode—a death—occurs mid-narrative. This scene, leaving a lifeless body at Lynn Hall's hearth, primarily involves Corbet’s battle against his curse, a struggle to resurrect his father. Yet Rois becomes a participant in this fight. From a feminist viewpoint, it might be frustrating that Rois must resolve Corbet’s issues before she can confront her own or her sister's challenges.

This pivotal clash marks a dramatic shift in the novel's trajectory. Rather than resolving matters, it propels Corbet into a solitary wander, while hastening Laurel's decline. From this moment onward, the narrative shifts, centering on Rois's urgent quest to confront the enigmatic "queen of summer and winter." She must do this to save both herself and Laurel and unravel the mystery surrounding their mother's past. Initially, the novel unfolds as Corbet's tale, exploring themes of father-son dynamics and various male-oriented challenges.

As the story progresses, however, it transforms into a narrative rich with feminine themes—a journey through maternal and sisterly bonds. Despite Rois's relentless pursuit of Corbet, traversing diverse terrains, the essence of the second half is distinctly female-centric. Corbet’s eventual return near the conclusion barely affects this subplot, yet it weaves a traditional romantic closure. It hints at a shared future for him and Rois, grounded in the world they almost forfeited.

Discovering elements in Winter Rose that might unsettle parents or their children proves to be quite a challenge. Though themes of death, danger, and despair weave through the narrative, they are depicted in a "bloodless" fashion, often leaning towards the symbolic. When placed alongside the frenetic and graphic chaos of modern visual media, this novel might strike young readers as uneventful or difficult to navigate.

Many young readers, regardless of gender, can see reflections of themselves in Rois, with her passion for nature and untamed landscapes. Her divergence from societal expectations for a young woman is celebrated within the story. This non-conformity allows Rois to embrace new adventures boldly, unlike the villagers who scoff at the improbable. Unlike traditional tales where a tomboy abandons her adventurous spirit upon falling in love, Rois remains true to herself. Indeed, it seems only her distinct sensitivity enables her to bravely traverse the mysterious path she and Corbet must walk.

Mathu, the father of Rois and Laurel, emerges as an unexpectedly nurturing figure. A man of steadfast labor, he tolerates Rois's explorations despite his concerns for her safety. Characters like Mathu and Tearle—single fathers who navigate the challenging role of parenting with uncertainty—might resonate with readers familiar with similar paternal figures. However, the absence of mothers is another matter. In pre-modern societies, motherless children were not uncommon, yet neither Corbet's nor Rois's and Laurel's mothers succumbed to misfortune or disease. The story suggests they were overly delicate for life's trials, simply fading from existence—a reflection of the outdated Victorian ideal of womanhood. This raises a compelling question for advanced readers: why do fairy tales and similar fictions often feature absent mothers?

An intriguing aspect involves the girls' immersion into an alternate realm. Laurel's journey hints at depression, while Rois's echoes a delusional state. Through McKillip's powerful prose, readers are drawn into these experiences, offering a glimpse into someone else's mindscape. For most, this serves as a thrilling escapism. However, for some young readers grappling with mental health challenges, the depiction may resonate more profoundly.

Exploration of Reality and Imagination

Stepping from the Shadows unfurls as a gripping coming-of-age tale by McKillip, set against a modern backdrop. It intricately weaves a narrative where the protagonist navigates the complexities of dual realities, engaging with an imagined sister who exists beyond the tangible world. This theme echoes throughout McKillip’s oeuvre, where fantasy novels often transport readers to the enchanting realm she dubs "Faerie," a mystical domain that also lends its magical threads to the tapestry of Winter Rose.

Winter Rose Reviewed

Green, Roland. "Winter Rose." Booklist (July 1996): 1812. A succinct review that highlights the novel's enigmatic events, lauding its remarkable ability to artfully blend the well-known with the mysterious.

Insight into Patricia A. McKillip

"McKillip, Patricia A." In Something about the Author, Vol. 80. Edited by Kevin S. Hile. Detroit: Gale, 1995. Provides an exploration of McKillip's evolution as an author, featuring a bibliography and curated references, alongside insights into her formative teen and college years.

Patricia A. McKillip: Crafting Complex Fantasies

"Patricia A. McKillip: Springing Surprises." Locus 37 (July 1996): 6-7. During an engaging interview, McKillip shares her spontaneous decision to relocate to a quaint village in New York state, a move that ushered in a fresh wave of inspiration. Reflecting on her latest endeavors, she reveals how her intended narratives often transform into intricate fantasies. She acknowledges the formidable challenge of crafting Winter Rose, describing it as a particularly demanding creative journey.