Surrounded by the digital age, it’s not as commonplace anymore to pick up a book and just spend an afternoon lazily reading. Still, it's something I strive to do with some frequency. I adore my iPad, but I think there’s still something special in picking up a book with your two hands and flipping its pages.
My latest re-read, from my ambitious piles of material, is called “The Island” by Elin Hilderbrand.
The story surrounds four women who decide to vacation at the remote family cottage on Tuckernuck Island, after storms of excitement and chaos wreak havoc on their lives. Each woman is searching for something – peace, love, fulfillment, contentment - in a place where they believe they can escape their troubles. Instead of escape, what they find is truth.
Many reviewers conclude that this is a typical novel about the unending drama in women’s lives – but like all good literature, its meaning depends on how you relate to the unfolding revelations of the story. The distinctly special trait is that the women are so relate-able, you feel like you know them despite never having been in the same situation yourself. The relationships are heartfelt and multifaceted – between mothers, daughters, sisters and lovers. These women are on a literal and figurative journey, and they end up making even deeper connections with those who matter most. It’s a tale of love, family, and the opportunity to start over.
I associate most closely with Chess, one of the daughters, who decides to call off her engagement to the “perfect” man and quit her job. Before the dust settles, even more despairing news arrives, sending her into a dark hole of grief. Coping with the pain becomes a heart-breaking journey to finding herself.
The first time that I read this book, I had just graduated from college and was backpacking through Europe by myself. I emphasize the by myself because I hadn’t planned to go alone – I had planned to go with my boyfriend of over a year. I realized about a week before college graduation, and about 10 days before leaving for Europe, that I wasn’t happy, and that this wasn’t the person that I wanted to spend any more of my life with - just as Chess does in the beginning of the novel. I feel akin to her in that she was true to herself, despite the surrounding social pressure. When I look back, I feel proud that I made the decision to also be true to myself, and search for what I really wanted out of life.
For more information on Elin Hilderbrand’s work, check out her website: http://www.elinhilderbrand.net/
