I took a chance and bought this book blind; a 1950 Dell paperback in perfect condition, but mostly because of the cover by Griffith Foxley. I read a 1950 Kirkus Review of it and assumed there was a Utah mountain ski resort, that with any luck will bury it's revelling guests in a deadly snowslide, causing them to fight for survival. What I got was quite a dry drama, with several characters slowly and pedantically ruminating about their lives in the face of a crisis.
Eleanor inherited the land that she crafted into the premier ski resort Excelsior. Head of Principessa Cosmetics, she was looking to attract the jet set, the Hollywood set and writers who would buy property there. George Stackpole is the top writer of the day - he and his wife are her guests and Eleanor hopes he will base his new book there. Walter is the Bavarian pro and Johnny the young trainee who run the mountain ski school. Walter is besotted with Faith, a resort resident who prowls the hotel in black leggings and can't help calling out bitchy lines to the vacationing wives. According to her shrink, she has a deep psychosis, caused by her love for a married man, Sam the local newsman. We are introduced to them all in the first 50 pages, along with Chuchu Martin, the sexpot actress and her husband Ric. When Chuchu and Ric disobey a warning to cover closed trails, they trigger an avalanche which buries Chuchu. We spend the next 12 hours and 384 long pages following each characters dilemmas and problems, the ones who return to the slide to help dig for her body, and those who remain at the hotel.
What sounds like a good premise is marred by it's length (a good 100 pages could be cut), and the tendency for repeating scenes and lines (not from other characters point of view, but the same scene repeated over again a few pages later; very Proustian) Carl Jonas was an English professor, and the slow plot is riddled with references to Ibsen, Gide, and Proust. There is also psychology and Freudian analysis, which must have been the mood of the day. Sam is aware of Faith's crush on him and strangely goes to her shrink, who strangely reveals her inner motivations. The story seems to ride the surface, written by someone who has plotted out the characters and their motivations, but not felt the essence or emotion of it. It could have used some excitement, but there is little urgency as the hours of searching run their course until a rather abrupt end. Interesting how the rather subdued hardcover shown here differs from the racy paperback I bought, gives a different mood. If not a story of disaster, I would have taken intrigue along the lines of Arthur Hailey's Hotel, but sorry to say I found it unremarkable.
1950 / Paperback / 384 pages
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