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322 pages, Hardcover
First published August 19, 2014
Despite sinister threats and an inviting $100k incentive, stubborn 69 year old Moses Sweetland is determined not to leave his beloved home in Chance Cove, but ultimately finds himself living in the eerie stillness of a ghost town. (no spoiler here)
And while I admit it took some time to make character connections and get into a comfortable reading groove, I really did like Moses, his sarcasm, his take charge ways and his homeland on an island of Newfoundland from the very start, however......
By the end of the novel, I was a bit perplexed (alright a lot perplexed) so I called my trusty GR friend Susan with my issues, and was told I was basically overthinking the story. So ok Susan, Occam's Razor it is!
Great heartfelt story!
"He looked up at the hills surrounding the cove, sunlight making them ring with meltwater. He’d always loved that sound, waited for it each spring. Hearing it made him certain of the place he came from. He’d always felt it was more than enough to wake up here, to look out on these hills. As if he’d long ago been measured and made to the island’s exact specifications."The government man that is sent to make the resettlement offers ($100,000 per family) has to have 100% compliance for it to work, but Moses is not willing to sign. Through this process the reader learns more about the island's history and social ways, but also about Moses himself, and more information on why he is a lifelong bachelor.
Queenie never cracked a spine, but for the few written by Newfoundlanders or about Newfoundland. She took those on as a kind of patriotic duty, though it was torture to get through them. They were every one depressing, she said. Or nothing happened. Or there was no point to the story. Half the books supposedly set in Newfoundland were nowhere Queenie recognized and she felt insulted by their claim on her life. They all sounds like they were written by townies, she liked to say.
He hated confronting those lost moments, being presented with some detail from his past and having to look on it like a stranger. It made his life feel like a made-up thing. A net full of holes.
A life was no goddamn thing in the end, he thought. Bits-and-pieces of make-believe cobbled together to look halfways human, like some stick-and-rag doll meant to scare crows out of the garden. No goddamn thing at all.
Sweetland not quite relieved to have made it back alive.