Lighthouse Bay, a novel by Kimberley Freeman, takes place in an Australian seaside town. It tells the tale with a completely different set of characters in two distinct time periods, one in 1901 and one in 2011. The chapters randomly flit back and forth from one era with its set of characters to the other.
I found the 1901 tale of a shipwreck and the mystery of its possible survivor the better of the two stories – and two stories it was. The main characters are two supposedly strong women and most certainly they endured some heart-breaking tragedies such as the loss of a child and the loss of a lover. But, each of these women was filled with such self-doubts and angst that I found the purported portrayal of strength not credible enough for my taste. The concept of jewelry design as a skill outlet for these pseudo career women was a weak common theme, and seemed somewhat stereotypically sexist to me.
The concrete connection between the two eras was not revealed until the final pages of the book unless you count geography as being a suitable link. This is definitely "chick lit" certainly not at its insipid worst but surely not at its admirable finest either. Instead of breezing through Lighthouse Bay as a light and refreshing read, I found myself trudging through the pages as if I myself were dragging my feet through sand. I was captive on an airplane so I listlessly continued going through the motions of turning the pages. Amazon gave this book 4½ stars but I would grudgingly give it only 2.
Ugh, the not-strong "strong woman." On the one hand, there are many different ways to be strong, but on the other... Literature is filled with characters whose authors tell us they are *supposed* to be strong (because really, who's going to say "my character is stupid, shallow, and weak-willed but you should root for her anyway), but who can't seem to get their act together at all. I think Smart Bitches, Trashy Books had some entertaining posts on this phenomenon in chick lit.
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