"When I thought we were in the heart of the inland country, we reached the top of a hill, and suddenly there lay spread out before us a wonderful great view of well-cleared fields that swept down to the wider water of a bay. Beyond this were distant shores like another country in the midday haze which half hid the hills beyond and the faraway pale blue mountains on the northern horizon. There was a schooner with all sails set coming down the bay from a white village that was sprinkled on the shore, and there were many sailboats flitting about. It was a noble landscape."
This classic , written in 1896, is told by an unidentified writer who spends a summer in the quintessential Maine coastal town of Dunnet. These pleasant vignettes of resourceful women and hardy fishermen are reminiscent of a slower, more peaceful time and place. A time when family, neighbors, hard work, and simple pleasures were highly valued; a time and place where fancy words meant little, but purpose meant everything.
Thankfully, Sarah One Jewett's descriptions of the Maine coast are still accurate, while the local dialect, so realistically recounted, may not be widely heard. Whether it is the herbalist Mrs. Todd commenting on the singing of a distant relative,"I chanced to drift alongside Mis' Peter Bowden o' Great bay, I couldn't help thinking' if she was as far out o' town as she was out o' tune, she wouldn't get back in a day", or an aged fisherman recalling a day's haul,"We went out 'early as sometimes; looked like a poor mornin'. got nine haddock, all small, and seven fish; the rest on'em got more fish than haddock. Well, I don't expect they feel like bitin' every day; we I'am to humor 'em a little, an' let 'em have their way 'bout it." These locals came alive; I could hear their voices as I read.
I was easily transported back to this idyllic village. I came to love these people who found joy and pleasure in small things; people who knew life and accepted it, whether it was a hard winter, a poor catch, or death. They faced it all with stoicism and forbearance.
The Country of the Pointed Firs is a great book to read before going to bed, not because it will make you sleepy, but because you will feel the contentment of these characters and images of coastal Maine will stay with you throughout the night. The words of the narrator as she departed Dunnet at the end of that summer are exactly how I felt on finishing this lovely book. "At last I had to say good-by to all my Dunnet Landing friends, and return to the world in which I feared to find myself a foreigner. There may be restrictions to such a summer's happiness, but the ease that belongs to simplicity is charming enough to make up for whatever a simple life may lack, and the gifts of peace are not for those who live in the thick of battle."