“Grant the unburied eternal rest”
- Book: The Northern Reach
- Location: Maine
- Author: W S Winslow
Mmm! I’m not really too sure where to begin with rationalising my thoughts about this book. I really do believe that this is one of those stories which takes every reader on an individual journey, whereby each of us will probably have one or two unique ‘stand out’ characters and moments that will stick with us for some time after the final page has been read. I know I have!
Likewise, it is also quite difficult to pigeon-hole the book into a specific genre. Personally, for me this is very much a work of literary and cultural fiction, as it is definitely all about the essence of the characters and a sense of time and place, rather than any earth-shatteringly, fast-paced frenetic plot; making it for me, a profoundly moving and often heart-wrenching reading experience, definitely giving this book great merit as a breath-taking, quality debut novel, by a new author with consummate storytelling skills, who writes beautifully, with great authority, total confidence and, more importantly, authentically and straight from the heart.
There really is no beginning, middle or end to this story. It simply and vividly brought to life, snapshots and milestone moments in time, during the 20th and 21st Centuries, featuring and bringing into focus, intricate and detailed vignettes of the people, the places and the unfolding events. Whilst passing mention is made of other areas and countries and even continents, this small, insular, waterfront corner of Maine, New England, is the central showcase and pivotal focus, of this sprawling generational family saga.
When I say ‘family’ saga, that is to say that the author has expertly and seamlessly constructed and woven together, a multi-layered menagerie of three or four predominant families, who over the course of time have intermarried, interbred, loved, fought, divorced, separated, lied and died, so that even with the help of mini family trees at the beginning of each chapter, it got to the stage where I couldn’t remember just who was related to whom and what their place was in this sprawling dynasty of dysfunction, disagreement, distrust, scandal, resentment and self-destruction.
This wonderfully textured, slowly unfolding story, was all about the compelling blend of words and visuality in the narrative and dialogue, between the members of these unconventional, complex and multi-faceted characters, who were really almost impossible to connect with, apart from at a very superficial level and who were definitely not investable as an engaging community, no matter at whose window in time the spotlight shone. Actions (usually fists) often cruel, spoke louder than words and whilst much of this blame could be laid at the door of ignorance, ill-breeding and familial connections, there also needs to be some allowance made for the conditions of this wasteland landscape they found themselves slave to. From the clandestine Ku Klux Klan to the inevitability of the bootleg black-market; from land rich cash poor dirt farming to the dangers and trials of a life pitted against the sea, stoicism binds them all together. Dark times and even darker thoughts are all-pervading, between characters who seem unable to share the same space and air together, yet can’t seem to live without one another. Together they are troubled, but alone they are lost and lonely souls.
In all fairness, many from the later generations, afforded some degree of education, did try to make good their escape from the clutches of this barren swathe of land, however as if lured by some seductive siren, or fastened by some invisible thread to their past and the struggles and complex experiences which had helped to shape them, they kept returning to Wellbridge’s bleak and brutal shores, where the ghosts of the past still held sway over the destiny of the living.
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