The Winter Sea by Susanna Kearsley

Just finished reading this delightful novel and as I turned to the “virtual” back cover, I released a pleasant sigh. This is why I read.

So I want to use this book to look at what comes together to produce that satisfied sigh at the end of a book. Several things, I think.

1.     1. We read to feel. To cry with the widow, to sneak around the corner, hiding from the leering, evil gardener, to rejoice in the beauty of young love, and to yearn for someone across an ocean. These emotions swept me up in this novel.

2.     2. We read to escape to another world. To leave the world of rainy, humid spring and travel to exotic locations where snow and ice and a biting wind off the North Sea batter the walls of the castle—this is a great way to gain a new appreciation for the world I actually inhabit.

3.     3. We read to learn. The Winter Sea is about an author who is writing an historical novel. We see how she researches, but we also travel back in time and learn about the Brittish-Scottish Union and the failed attempt of King James to return to Scotland and claim his throne. Real historical figures play major roles in the fiction—it’s fascinating!

4.     4. Lastly, I think we read to get to the last page so we can savor all the moments the author led us through in order to reach a vantage point where we could look back and say, that was exactly right. So much in this world is a mess. Reading an ordered story that ties up loose ends while leaving a few of the right ones hanging, gives us hope that in real life, there’s a chance at bringing things right.

My favorite image is the character with eyes like The Winter Sea. Eyes like that are beautiful to imagine, and since almost the whole story takes place in view of the winter sea, it’s especially poignant.

As a writer, I loved that the protagonist is a writer. I wish I had an agent like hers in the story. I wish I could just go rent a cottage near the setting of my story and write there, alone, until it’s finished. Well, I don’t really want to do that, but the idea is highly romantic, though completely unrealistic for me. But it’s fun to “live” that dream, even if I don’t truly want the reality (ie, months away from my family).

For an escape, read The Winter Sea. It’s beautiful, punctuated with some lovely surprises, and will sweep you to another world . . . plus, there’s a castle. And I'm fairly certain you'll close the book and without even thinking about it, you'll sigh because you're satisfied.

What is it about England?

Is it just me, or is a novel set in 19^th century England like the pied piper? I can’t stay away. I love, love, love stories set in this time and place. Of course I’m a Jane Austen fan, but how many countless other stories start with a giant stone manor house, a garden to get lost in, and a thunderstorm to end all storms?

Why do we love them? Is it the “other-worldliness”? Is it a longing for a simpler, yet more opulent time? I don’t even like tea, but I find myself longing for a cup served in one-hundred-year-old bone china, while wearing a gown I’ve just put on for the express purpose of taking my tea…in the drawing room, of course.

And why is it a game of cat and mouse played in a dark, two-hundred-year-old garden is more enthralling than the same chase scene in a US mall?

Honestly, I think is because I’ve lived (vicariously) so many wonderful stories in that time and place, it seems to me the best parts of the old stories are carried (by me) into the new stories and though they strip me of all objectivity, they sink me even deeper into the storyworld than a single author could take me.

If I walk into a Calculus class for the first time with no previous math instruction, the teacher may be able to explain limits to me after several weeks of blood, sweat, and tears. But if I walk into the same class having already learned the terms and basic background necessary, I can hit the ground running and begin to understand new concepts immediately.

So it is with literature. Having read several novels taking place in the 19^th century, in a stone country house on the moors of England, I already know what life was like. I have a general feel for what the moors look like, and I know how the people lived, both the servants and land owners. So when I take up a new novel, the fresh details ring wonderfully true when they dovetail with details from other books, painting an even richer portrait.

I can’t help it. Victorian and Romantic English Literature inspires me. The stories suck me in and I cannot stop reading them. Lure me in with a castle and a mysterious key and I’ll be rapt until the last chapter. Do you feel the same? Is there another genre you cannot stop reading?

The Novel With a Slow Build

The story with a slow build. I talked about it last time, and I promised more. The title is Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese, and the story is extraordinary.

Like anything involving delayed gratification, sometimes worthwhile journeys require slogging through a bit of mud to get there. I’m here to tell you this: Don’t skip the mud!

Walking in knee deep mud is difficult. It requires concentration because, if you stumble in knee deep mud and then fall in said knee deep mud, it quickly becomes neck deep mud and nobody wants to go there.

The mud focuses our mind. It stretches our muscles. It makes us dig deep to find the energy we need to keep slogging. Are you feeling the grit between your teeth yet? OK, let’s bring it back to reality.

Reading this novel was not the difficult experience I’m describing. The first 150 pages are filled with NECESSARY details. They are presented in an interesting manner, and I was transported to an incredible world as I read. But when I reached the mid-point in the novel, all these details began to dovetail. As minor characters grew in importance, I recalled bits of information I didn’t feel were important at the time, but they became paramount as the novel progressed.

One of the greatest satisfactions in reading comes when an author makes every word count and presents his story in a way that the reader can taste each word at the end and know that the flavors all work together to make something more special than any of the individual ingredients alone. If one item is omitted, the outcome will not be the same.

Cutting for Stone is delicate, delicious, serious, fascinating, and riveting. Every word contributes to a gorgeous and complex whole. It’s worth your time.

Fair warning, a few adult scenes and occasional language.