Snowman

Author: Raymond Briggs
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-03-01
Features: In the morning, a boy wakes up to find snowflakes falling outside his window. He dashes outside and builds a snowman twice his own height. He puts a hat on it, ties a scarf around its neck, and sticks on an orange for a big red nose. He uses charcoal for eyes and draws a mouth. Ha, a lifelike snowman! But that night, the boy couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried. At midnight, he got up, opened the front door, and wow! He discovered the snowman had come to life. The snowman took off its hat and greeted him. The boy invited the snowman to his house, which made the cold giant very excited. It looked at the cat, watched TV, tried turning on the lights, and pulled out all the tissues from the kitchen. It loved crunching on ice but was afraid of fire. The boy whispered "shhh" and quietly led it upstairs, into his parents' bedroom, to see them sleeping. It stared at Dad’s false teeth in a cup for a long time, put on Mom’s wide-brimmed hat adorned with a purple flower, tied Dad’s tie, put on Dad’s glasses, and wore Dad’s pants that couldn’t be buttoned, looking in the mirror. Then, the boy and the snowman had a lavish candlelit dinner downstairs. Next, it was the snowman’s turn. It pulled the boy outside, and they flew hand in hand into the stormy sky. They flew over the wilderness, over a place that looked like Russia or the Middle East, and landed on a pier overlooking the sea. But suddenly, the snowman realized something was wrong. A red glow appeared on the horizon—oh no, the sun was coming up! It pulled the boy back. They landed safely in the boy’s backyard. The boy reluctantly bid farewell to the snowman, pushed open the door, and jumped into his bed before his parents woke up. But the next morning, when he rushed outside, he found his new friend had melted, leaving only a small pile of snow, a hat, a scarf, and a few charcoal pieces.
Review: The Eternal Coolness Left in Life
Author: Red Shell
When the scorching heat of summer reminds us of the changing seasons, the cold winter is already invisible. Yet, the beginning of this summer can be adorned with a heart-cooling experience, as the classic winter read, The Snowman, makes its refreshing debut. Under the bright sunlight, the book cover, dominated by shades of gray, blue, and white, features a smiling snowman gazing at you, instantly evoking a sense of coolness—comforting and serene.
The story begins by letting the reader know it’s a winter morning. The clear, layered illustrations show a little boy yearning for the world of falling snow. The author doesn’t add any text; instead, the boy’s actions are depicted through a series of connected panels, making his eagerness palpable. After dressing up, he dashes outside and builds a complete snowman in the snow, thus bringing the snowman to life. From morning to night, the boy watches over the snowman he built, just as a child would with their favorite toy. But in this story, the snowman is more than just a toy—it becomes his companion when he wakes up in the middle of the night and sneaks up to it, bringing him surprises! The snowman and the boy explore together, curious about everything around them. The boy is also eager to guide the snowman, as it’s a special night—his beloved snowman has become his friend.
The snowman has a round, chubby face, like a child’s, with a pure smile. Its tiny charcoal eyes gaze at the boy with kindness and affection. Under the dim candlelight, they share a rich dinner, connected by a deep understanding, spending dreamlike moments together. When the snowman takes the boy’s hand and flies into the sky, overlooking the vast, snow-covered earth and the sleeping city, the scene is filled with a sense of awe and depth. It seems that behind the snowflakes lie more definitions of dreams, blessings from the snowman, and profound insights for the soul. At this moment, the boy experiences endless joy, and so does the child in front of you, feeling this precious sense of happiness.
Later, the snowman and the boy land on the other side of the sunrise. A golden light spills into the corner of the frame, illuminating their every move, as the joyful time comes to an end with the arrival of the sun. After dropping the boy off at home, the snowman stands back in the snow, its posture unchanged, as if it had never moved. The boy watches the snowman’s back, waving goodbye reluctantly. This process is divided into several panels, like cherished fragments. Because of the sunlight, the snowman melts. The boy stands before the snow pile, his figure even more sorrowful. Last night’s joy was like a dream. Compared to the sunlight, it doesn’t diminish the final coolness. The snowman is like a child’s most precious childhood—a classic preserved by time, a moment of joy brought by an instant, leaving behind the most dazzling moments in life. Even though it’s lost in the end, it will surely be a beautiful hope, forever remembered.
Work Interpretation:
Author: Peng Yi
The Snowman is a wordless book. At first glance, a wordless book might not seem remarkable, but Raymond Briggs’ The Snowman had critics buzzing. A review from Candlewick Press started with a bold exclamation: "Even a preschooler can understand this story—because it doesn’t use a single word!" Some reviewers even dared to ask readers, "Do stories really need words?" This winter fantasy is so enchanting—when the snow stopped, the boy discovered the snowman he’d built outside had come to life! He let the snowman inside, and the clumsy creature was curious about everything in the boy’s house. It admired Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, stared at Dad’s false teeth in a cup for a while, and then, before dawn, the seemingly foolish snowman suddenly pulled the boy and flew into the snowy night sky.
This story is beautiful, warm, and poetic, yet deeply moving. A snowman given life by the boy melts away as soon as the sun rises, ending its short existence so quickly. At the end of the story, the boy stands facing away from us, his face hidden, but we can tell he’s crying for the loss of his friend!
"Raymond Briggs managed to create such a warm book with such a cold theme—truly remarkable!" —When The Snowman was first published in 1978, Booklist magazine exclaimed this. It quickly became a classic and won the 1979 Boston Globe/Horn Book Award for Picture Books and many other honors, becoming a winter reading staple.
The Snowman still uses the multi-panel comic format. I counted, and there are 167 illustrations in total—some pages have more, like the one showing the boy using charcoal and oranges to give the snowman black eyes and a red nose, which has 12 small images. Others have fewer, like the page where the snowman pulls the boy’s hand and soars into the sky, which is just one large image on the whole page. These panels are filled with stillness and motion. For example, when the snowman waves at the boy, silently saying "come with me," the panels gradually enlarge, giving the impression of movement because they’re all moving in one direction. Later, the panels even merge into one, suddenly pushing the story to its climax! At the very end of the book, the boy suddenly stops in front of a pile of snow with a few charcoal pieces scattered around. At this moment, the scene freezes, shrinking the image to the smallest, letting the silent void embrace the grieving boy tightly.
It ends abruptly, a miracle concludes, leaving only quiet sorrow.
Raymond Briggs often gets asked what technique he used to draw The Snowman. He says he didn’t use regular pens or pencils to outline, nor any ink or watercolors. He drew it entirely with colored pencils (pencil crayons)—his strokes are warm and simple, especially the soft warm tones, which perfectly match the dreamlike story of a winter night.
Someone once asked Raymond Briggs why The Snowman doesn’t use a single word—is it a symbol of the silent night? He replied no, he never thought of letting the snowman speak. Since the main character doesn’t talk, others didn’t need to either, so it naturally turned out this way.
For children, wordless books have several unexpected benefits—they can look at the pictures and tell the story in their own words, which brings immense satisfaction. They can also rewrite the ending to their liking, like: "That night, someone knocked on the door, and the boy opened it—it was the snowman, who had come back to life." Or a more romantic ending: "At the very moment the sun rose, the snowman turned into a snow spirit and flew into the sky filled with snowflakes."
About the Author:
Raymond Briggs (1934–2022) was born on January 4, 1934, in Wimbledon, London, England. He studied printing, art, and design at Wimbledon College of Art and the Slade School of Fine Art. He initially worked in advertising but soon realized it wasn’t for him and switched to children’s illustration while also teaching part-time. His first picture book for children was The Strange House (1961), and the one that first brought him fame was The Mother Goose Treasury (1966), which won the 1966 Kate Greenaway Medal. His other notable works include Father Christmas (1973), which won the Kate Greenaway Medal again in 1973, and When the Wind Blows (1982).
Awards and Recommendations:
● 1979 Boston Globe/Horn Book Award for Picture Books
● 1979 Dutch Silver Pen Award
● 1982 Kate Greenaway Medal