Remake Yourself: A Guest Post by Allegra Goodman
A story of courage and isolation, Isola is the astonishing fictionalized account of French noblewoman Marguerite de la Rocque de Roberval. Titanic meets The Revenant in this sweeping tale of companionship against all odds. Read on for an exclusive essay from Allegra Goodman on writing Isola.
Paperback $19.00
Isola (Reese's Book Club)
Isola (Reese's Book Club)
In Stock Online
Paperback $19.00
A young woman and her lover are marooned on an island in this “lushly painted” (People) historical epic of love, faith, and defiance from the bestselling author of Sam.
A young woman and her lover are marooned on an island in this “lushly painted” (People) historical epic of love, faith, and defiance from the bestselling author of Sam.
Twenty-three years ago, our family went on a road trip from Cambridge Mass to Montreal. At the time our sons were ten, seven, and three years old, and our daughter was just six weeks. Before we went, I went to the library and checked out every book for children on Canadian history. I imagined sharing these with the boys—but they read none of them. I read the whole stack in Vermont Bed and Breakfasts while nursing the baby.
One evening as I sat up in bed with my daughter in my arms, I read about Jacques Cartier and his three voyages to Canada. The author mentioned that on Cartier’s 1542 voyage, a ship of colonists followed him to the New World. On this ship a noblewoman named Marguerite de la Rocque de Roberval annoyed the commander, who marooned her on an island in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Here she had to find a way to stay alive while fighting off white bears.
Wait. What?
I wanted to know more about Marguerite, but the author went right back to Cartier, leaving me to ask: Who was this woman? Why was she on the ship? What had she done to deserve marooning? And how did she fight off those bears? I thought—this would be great material for a historical novel, but I had never tried writing one. Wouldn’t it require a huge amount of research? I had four little children, including the baby. I was so sleep deprived . . . I set aside Marguerite and wrote several other novels.
And yet, I could not forget Marguerite. Over many years, I began reading everything I could about this young Frenchwoman and her world. I looked at paintings in museums. I studied diagrams of ships and the gowns women wore. My children grew up. My newborn daughter was on her way to college when I told myself, You have to try.
I thought—if I can just write the first sentence—if I can hear Marguerite’s voice, I can write this book. In a notebook, I experimented with first lines. One day after dozens of attempts, I wrote: I never knew my mother. She died the night that I was born, and so we passed each other in the dark. At that moment, I heard Marguerite speaking to me, and with those words her story began to unfold. For eighteen months, I didn’t tell anyone what I was writing—not even my own family—until I finished my first draft.
With the publication of Isola, I gave up secrecy and returned with Marguerite from her island to the world. It’s been extraordinary to hear from readers who connect with her story. To know they journey with her and feel what she feels. I’ve been moved by the response of readers who see something of themselves in Marguerite and understand what it is to remake yourself. Not just to survive loss, but to forge a new life.