Manhattan Beach

Manhattan Beach

by Jennifer Egan

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781476716732
Publisher: Scribner
Publication date: 10/03/2017
Pages: 448
Sales rank: 135,270
Product dimensions: 6.10(w) x 9.10(h) x 1.50(d)

About the Author

Jennifer Egan is the author of five books of fiction, including A Visit from the Goon Squad, which won the Pulitzer Prize and National Books Critics Circle Award; The Keep, a national bestseller; the story collection Emerald City; Look at Me, a National Book Award Finalist; and The Invisible Circus, which was adapted into a major motion picture starring Cameron Diaz. Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, Harpers, Granta, McSweeney’s, The New York Times Magazine and many others. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and two sons.

Read an Excerpt

PART TWO

Shadow World

CHAPTER FIVE

It all started with seeing the girl. Anna had gone outside to buy lunch over the disapproval of her supervisor, Mr. Voss, who liked them to bring their lunches from home and eat them on the same tall stools where they sat measuring all day. Anna sensed anxiety in his wish to keep them in sight, as if girls at large in the Naval Yard might scatter like chickens. True, their shop was pleasant to eat in, clean and brightly lit by a bank of second-story windows. It had conditioned air, a humming chill that had filled every corner during the hot September days when Anna first came to work there. Now she would have liked to open a window and let in the fresh October air, but the windows were permanently shut, sealing out dust and grime that might affect the measurements she and the other girls took—or was it that the tiny parts they were measuring needed to be pristine in order to function? No one knew, and Mr. Voss was not a man who welcomed questions. Early on, Anna had asked of the unrecognizable parts in her tray, “What are we measuring, exactly, and which ship are they for?”

Mr. Voss’s pale eyebrows rose. “That information isn’t necessary to do your job, Miss Kerrigan.”

“It would help me to do it better.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“I would know what I was doing.”

The marrieds hid their smiles. Anna had been cast—or cast herself—in the role of unruly kid sister, and was enjoying it immensely. She found herself looking for little ways to challenge Mr. Voss without risking outright insubordination.

“You are measuring and inspecting parts to ensure that they are uniform,” he said patiently, as if to a halfwit. “And you are setting aside any that are not.”

Soon it came to be known that the parts they were inspecting were for the battleship Missouri, whose keel had been laid almost a year before Pearl Harbor in Dry Dock 4. Later, the Missouri’s hull had been floated across Wallabout Bay to the building ways: vast iron enclosures whose zigzagging catwalks evoked the Coney Island Cyclone. Knowing that the parts she was inspecting would be adjoined to the most modern battleship ever built had indeed brought some additional zest to the work for Anna. But not enough.

When the lunch whistle blew at eleven-thirty, she was itching to get outside. In order to justify leaving the building, she didn’t bring a lunch—a ploy she knew did not fool Mr. Voss. But he couldn’t very well deny a girl food, so he watched grimly as she made for the door while the marrieds unwrapped sandwiches from waxed paper and talked about husbands in boot camp or overseas; who’d had a letter; clues or hunches or dreams as to where their beloveds might be; how desperately frightened they were. More than one girl had wept, describing her terror that a husband or fiancé would not return. Anna couldn’t listen. The talk stirred in her an uncomfortable anger at these girls, who seemed so weak. Thankfully, Mr. Voss had put an end to that topic during working hours, prompting an unlikely trill of gratitude in Anna. Now they sang songs from their colleges while they worked: Hunter, St. Joseph’s, Brooklyn College, whose song Anna finally learned—not having bothered to in the year she was a student there.

She synchronized her wristwatch with the large wall clock they all answered to, and stepped outdoors. After the sealed hush of her shop, the roar of Yard noise always shocked her: crane and truck and train engines; the caterwaul of steel being cut and chipped in the nearby structural shop; men hollering to be heard. The stench of coal and oil mingled with gusts of chocolate from the factory on Flushing Avenue. It wasn’t making chocolate anymore, but something for soldiers to eat when they might otherwise starve. This chocolate cousin was supposed to taste like a boiled potato, Anna had heard, so that soldiers wouldn’t be tempted to snack on it ahead of time. But the smell was still delicious.

As she hurried alongside Building 4, the structural shop, with its thousand dingy windows, she saw a girl climbing onto a bicycle. Anna didn’t register at first that it was a girl; she wore the same plain blue work clothes they all did. But something in her bearing, the flair with which she mounted, caught Anna’s eye, and she watched the girl glide away with a shiver of envy.

At a canteen near the piers, she bought her forty-cent boxed meal—today it was chicken, mashed potatoes, canned peas, and applesauce—and made her way toward Piers C and D, both close enough to her shop that she could eat (often while standing, even walking) and be back on her stool by twelve-fifteen. A ship had berthed at Pier C since the previous day, its sudden towering apparition almost otherworldly. With each step Anna took toward the ship, its height seemed to rise, until she had to tip her head fully back to follow the curved prow all the way up to the distant deck. It was thronged with sailors, identical-looking in their toylike uniforms and caps, all leaning over the rail to gawk at something below. In that same moment, a chorus of catcalls reached her. She went still, clutching her boxed lunch—then saw with relief that the object of their ardor was not her but the girl on the bicycle, who was riding back alongside the ship from the foot of the pier, a tousle of peroxide curls pried from her scarf by the wind. Anna watched her approach, trying to discern whether the girl was enjoying this attention or not. Before she could make up her mind, the bicycle hit a patch of gravel and skidded on its side, dumping its rider onto the brick-paved pier, to the jeering hilarity of the sailors. Had the men been within reach of the girl, they doubtless would have elbowed each other aside to rush to her aid. But at such a height, with only each other to show off for, they settled for an orgy of heckling:

“Aw, poor baby lost her balance.”

“Shame she’s not wearing a skirt.”

“Say, you’re pretty even when you’re crying.”

But the girl wasn’t crying. She stood up angrily, humiliated but defiant, and Anna decided then that she liked her. She’d thought fleetingly of running to help the girl, but was glad she’d resisted—two girls struggling with a bicycle would be funnier than just one. And this girl would not have wanted help. She straightened her shoulders and walked the bicycle slowly to the top of the pier, where Anna was, giving no sign that she heard anything. Anna saw how pretty she was, with dimpled cheeks and flickering blue eyes, those Jean Harlow curls. Familiar, too—perhaps because she looked the way Lydia might have looked had she not been the way she was. The world was full of strangers (Betty Grable among them) for whom Anna felt a sisterly affection for that reason. But as the girl stalked past, ignoring Anna, she recognized her as one of the girls whom reporters had chosen to follow in September, on the first day girls had started working at the Naval Yard. Anna had seen her picture in the Brooklyn Eagle.

When she was safely past the ship, the girl mounted her bicycle and rode away. Anna checked her wristwatch and discovered with horror that she was almost thirteen minutes late. She sprinted toward her building, aware of creating a mild spectacle by running. She flew past the inspectors on the first floor—all men, using ladders to measure bigger parts—and resumed her stool at 12:37, sweat coursing from her armpits along the inside of her jumpsuit. She fixed her eyes on the tray of small parts she was given each day to measure and tried to quell her panting. Rose, a married she was friendly with, gave her a warning look from the next table.

The micrometer was stupidly easy to use: clasp, screw, read. Anna had been delighted with this assignment at first; girls in trades like welding and riveting had needed six weeks of instruction, whereas inspecting required just a week of aptitude tests. She was among college girls, and Mr. Voss had used the word “elite” in his introductory remarks, which had pleased her. Above all, she was tired of working with her hands. But after two days of reading the micrometer and then stamping a paper that came with her tray to certify that the parts were uniform, Anna found that she loathed the job. It was monotonous yet required concentration; numbingly mundane yet critical enough that it took place in a “clean room.” Squinting at the micrometer made her head pound. She had an urge sometimes to try and use just her fingers to gauge whether the parts were correctly sized. But she could only guess, then had to measure to find out if her guess was correct. And the all-knowing Mr. Voss had spotted her working with her eyes closed. “May I ask what you’re doing, Miss Kerrigan?” he’d remarked. When Anna told him (for the amusement of the marrieds), he’d said, “This is no time for whimsy. We’ve a war to fight.”

Now, when the shift was done and they were back in street clothes, Mr. Voss asked Anna to step inside his office. No one had ever been called to his office; this was ominous.

“Shall I wait?” Rose asked as the other marrieds wished her luck and hurried away. But Anna demurred, knowing that Rose had a baby to get home to.

The snapper’s office was bare and provisional, like most of the Naval Yard. After standing briefly when she entered, Mr. Voss resumed his seat behind a metal desk. “You were twenty minutes late returning from lunch,” he said. “Twenty-two, in fact.”

Anna stood before him, her heart pumping directly into her face. Mr. Voss was an important man in the Yard; the commandant had telephoned him more than once. He could have her dismissed. This was a prospect she hadn’t fully considered in the weeks she’d spent gently galling him. But it struck her now with force: she had withdrawn from Brooklyn College. If she weren’t here at work, she would be back at home with her mother, caring for Lydia.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It won’t happen again.”

“Have a seat,” he said, and Anna lowered herself onto a chair. “If you’ve not had much experience in the working world, these rules and restrictions must seem like quite a bother.”

“I’ve worked all my life,” she said, but it sounded hollow. She was full of shame, as if she’d glimpsed her own reflection in a shopwindow and found it ridiculous. A college girl craving a taste of war work. An “elite.” That was how he must see her. Slogans from the Shipworker drifted through her mind: minutes saved here mean lives saved there. when you don’t work, you work for the enemy.

“You’re aware that we may not win the war,” he said.

She blinked. “Why, yes. Of course.” Newspapers weren’t allowed inside the Naval Yard for fear of damaging morale, but Anna bought a Times each evening outside the Sands Street gate.

“You realize that the Nazis have Stalingrad surrounded.”

She nodded, head bowed in humiliation.

“And that the Japs control the Pacific theater from the Philippines to New Guinea?”

“Yes.”

“You understand that the work we do here, building and repairing Allied ships, is what allows sailors, airplanes, bombs, and convoy escorts to reach the field of battle?”

A filament of annoyance waggled inside her. He’d made his point. “Yes.”

“And that hundreds of Allied merchantmen have been torpedoed since the war began, with more going down each day?”

“We’re losing fewer ships than before, and building more,” she said quietly, having read this in the Times just recently. “Kaiser shipyard built a Liberty ship in ten days last month.”

It sounded egregiously fresh, and Anna waited for the blow to fall. But Mr. Voss merely said after a pause, “I notice you don’t bring a lunch. I presume you live at home?”

“Yes, I do,” Anna said. “But my mother and I are awfully busy caring for my sister. She’s badly crippled.”

This was true. But also untrue. Her mother made breakfast and dinner for Anna; she easily could have packed a lunch, and had offered to. Anna had slipped into the unguarded manner she often found herself assuming with strangers, or virtual strangers. Her reward was a faint disturbance of surprise in Mr. Voss’s face.

“Now, that’s a shame,” he said. “Can’t your father help?”

“He’s gone.” She almost never revealed this fact, and hadn’t planned to.

“In the service?” He looked dubious; surely a man with a nineteen-year-old daughter would be too old.

“Just—gone.”

“He abandoned your family?”

“Five years ago.”

Had Anna felt any emotion at this disclosure, she would have concealed it. But she did not. Her father had left the apartment as he would have on any day—she couldn’t even recall it. The truth had arrived gradually, like nightfall: a recognition, when she caught herself awaiting his return, that she’d waited days, then weeks, then months—and he’d still not come. She was fourteen, then fifteen. Hope became the memory of hope: a numb, dead patch. She no longer could picture him clearly.

Mr. Voss took a long breath. “Well, that is difficult,” he said. “Very difficult for you and your mother.”

“And my sister,” she said reflexively.

The silence that opened around them was uncomfortable but not unpleasant. It was a change. Mr. Voss’s shirtsleeves were rolled; she noticed the blond hairs on his hands and strong rectangular wrists. Anna sensed his sympathy, but the tight aperture of their discourse afforded no channel through which sentiment might flow. And sympathy was not what she wanted. She wanted to go out at lunchtime.

The bustle of the shift change had settled; the night inspectors must be at work on their trays. Anna found herself recalling the girl on the bicycle. Nell—the name came to her suddenly, from the newspaper caption.

“Miss Kerrigan,” Mr. Voss said at last. “You may go out for lunch, if you will carefully mind the time and work to your full capacity.”

“Thank you,” Anna cried, leaping to her feet. Mr. Voss looked startled, then stood as well. He smiled, something she hadn’t seen before. It changed him, that smile, as if all the severity he displayed on the inspection floor were a hiding place from which this amiable man had just waved hello. Only his voice was the same.

“I expect your mother will be needing you at home,” he said. “Good evening.”

Reading Group Guide

This reading group guide for Manhattan Beach includes an introduction, discussion questions, and ideas for enhancing your book club. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.

Introduction

The long-awaited, daring, and magnificent novel from the Pulitzer Prize–winning author of A Visit from the Goon Squad, Manhattan Beach opens in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. Anna Kerrigan, nearly twelve years old, accompanies her father to the house of Dexter Styles, a man who, she gleans, is crucial to the survival of her family.

Years later, her father has disappeared and the country is at war. Anna works at the Brooklyn Naval Yard, where women are allowed to hold jobs that had always belonged to men. She becomes the first female diver, the most dangerous and exclusive of occupations, repairing the ships that will help America win the war. She is the sole provider for her mother, a farm girl who had a brief and glamorous career with the Ziegfeld Follies, and her lovely, severely disabled sister. At a nightclub, she chances to meet Dexter Styles again, and she begins to understand the complexity of her father’s life, the reasons he might have vanished.

Mesmerizing, hauntingly beautiful, with the pace and atmosphere of a noir thriller, Egan’s first historical novel is a masterpiece, a deft, startling, intimate exploration of a transformative moment in the lives of women and men, America and the world. Manhattan Beach is a spectacular novel by one of the greatest writers of our time.

Topics & Questions for Discussion

1. In the first chapter, on the beach, Anna walks barefoot despite the cold and says, “It only hurts at first. After a while you can’t feel anything.” Dexter admires Anna for her strength, which he senses comes from her father. He reflects that “men’s children gave them away” (pages 8–9). How does this meeting between Dexter, Ed, and Anna set the tone for the rest of the novel?

2. Why is the thought of what Lydia “might have looked like, had she not been damaged. A beauty. Possibly more than Agnes,” (page 16) so painful to Ed? Why is he unable even to cope with Lydia, much less love her, as Anna and Agnes do?

3. “Each time Anna moved from her father’s world to her mother and Lydia’s, she felt as if she’d shaken free of one life for a deeper one. And when she returned to her father, holding his hand as they ventured out into the city, it was her mother and Lydia she shook off, often forgetting them completely. Back and forth she went, deeper—deeper still—until it seemed there was no place further down she could go. But somehow there always was. She had never reached the bottom” (page 26). What does this passage reveal about Anna? What allows, even compels, her to shift between worlds?

4. Ed, looking back on his decision to work with Dexter, reflects that he needed a change, that “[h]e’d take danger over sorrow any day of the week” (page 34). Is Ed right to do this? Is Ed’s philosophy a noble or a selfish one?

5. What draws Anna to Nell? And Nell to Anna? How are they each not “angels” and how does this bond them?

6. Even at a young age, Dexter wants to know what’s beneath the surface of things. “For him, the existence of an obscure truth recessed behind an obvious one, and emanating through it allegorically, was mesmerizing” (page 91). How does this fascination shape Dexter’s life and his career?

7. How does Anna’s sexual relationship with Leon, during which she thinks things like “I might not be here” and “This might not be me” (page 120), relate to her feeling abandoned by her father? Why does she later invoke her father as “an abstract witness to her virtue” (page 122)?

8. Why does Anna set herself such a difficult task—becoming a diver, “breaking” the lieutenant, facing opposition at every turn? Why does she feel “that she had always wanted [an enemy]” (page 149)?

9. Why does Lydia’s death solidify Agnes’s determination to be done with her husband, after so many years, whether he returns or not (page 179)?

10. Leaving Charlie Voss at the club to spend the night with Dexter, Anna releases herself to the dark: “she had . . . disappeared through a crack in the night. Not a soul knew where to find her” (page 234). What do you make of her need to be lost, to be a part of the dark and its danger?

11. Ed is simultaneously drawn to and infuriated by the bosun. Discuss why there is a push and pull between these two characters.

12. Why does Dexter insist on diving with Anna to try to find her father’s corpse? What does this effort represent for him? What do you think he comes to understand?

13. Visions of Lydia push Anna to not go through with her abortion. Discuss the connection between Lydia and Anna’s unborn child.

14. When Anna takes the train west, there’s a moment when she “bolted upright. She had thought of her father. At last, she understood: This is how he did it” (page 426). What allows her to understand and perhaps reconcile with her father?

15. Luck plays an important role throughout the novel and has particular significance for Anna, Dexter, and Ed. How does luck shape each of their lives? Good luck and bad luck?

16. Throughout the novel, characters create new identities for themselves and start over. How do these individual stories of reinvention relate to the spirit of optimism, the quest for the new that is so common among Americans at this time?

Enhance Your Book Club

1. Read a mystery novel by Agatha Christie, Raymond Chandler, Rex Stout, or Ellery Queen from the 1940s, as Anna does. Discuss what draws Anna to these stories.

2. Watch some classic noir films, such as Laura or Gilda from the 1940s, or watch noir-inspired films that came later, such as On the Waterfront or Chinatown. How do their narratives and archetypes compare to those in Manhattan Beach?

3. If you live in or near New York, explore the Brooklyn Navy Yard Center’s resources and programs at bldg92.org. Discuss what working at the Brooklyn Navy Yard during World War II might have been like.

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Manhattan Beach (Signed Book) 3.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 25 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Falling into another world while reading is pure enjoyment. Characters with depth, thoughts and emotions so real you join them in the story.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Simple writing. Simple drama. Most interesting parts were about naval shipyard.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Lots of research here. Sometimes the novel attempts to be realistic-- and is; sometimes the attempt fails to convince. Sometimes realism is not what the book is about. This uneven tone is why I gave it only 3 stars. I liked the non-gangster characters. The gangsters were ridiculous at times & not very interesting.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
There is a lot to like in this novel. It was obvious that the author did considerable research to recreate the ambiance of WW II USA. I was born in 1942 and the fact that my father worked in the shipyards of Kearny, NJ helped me appeciate Ms Egan's achievement. I took away a star from my rating because I did not swallow much of the gangster sub-plot and especially the capo character Dexter and his family entanglements. The scene on tbe water off Staten Island was cringeworthy.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
An interesting story, one that made you think about the characters when you were not reading the book—always the sign of a good novel. Highly recommended.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I could not put this book down. Beautifully written.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Good read
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This had potential to be an interesting read, but it wasnt. Under developed characters and a story line that somehow didnt connect them. Very disappointing.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Great descriptive language. Not a lot of character development.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
What a wonderful writer. I could barely put the book down.
Anonymous 3 months ago
Was about the dad that disappears and daughtee becomes diver its ww2 hooks up with mafia guy
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Absolutely riveting. Loved the story and all of the characters. Fantastic writing.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Well researched and rich with characters. This book twists at each turn. I feel that I visited the past.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Too much research and not enough humanity made what could have been a fabulous novel just a so-so read. Considering all the hype , I found this book a disappointment .
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Liked the idea of a female diver! Story was a bit long-winded.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Not enough fleshing out of characters and lots of it bored me. She captures the navy yard atmosphere well but not much about Brooklyn during this period. was looking for more about the rest of the family, and why the father left was a little fuzzy and was not answered at the end. Gangster angle was a bit flat. Seems more like a summer read than an award winner. Was disappointed as it was our book club pick and was not available at library so I had to purchase for 13.99. I don’t see much for us to discuss...just ok
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The ganster was hrd to believe. He belittled her accomplishment by diving and then to find the watch???
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Great read - I really enjoyed it. Though the ending seemed a bit abrupt. Unfinished almost.
Deb-Krenzer More than 1 year ago
I absolutely loved reading this book and sharing Anna Kerrigan's life journey. A story that was set in pre-war and during World War II. It dealt with so many topics that were current at that time. Men leaving their families because they couldn't handle the fact they could not provide for them was just one. It also dealt with women doing men's jobs and the harassment that those women dealt with on a daily basis. I really felt like I was living in that era while reading this book. The author did such a great job in so aspects with this book. A coming of age story that, for me, was excellent, unputdownable and one that I will surely think back to 2017 and consider it one of the best reads that year. Now, I am certainly driven to read her first major prize winning book "A Visit From the Goon Squad" a copy of which I have, but have never done so. Thanks to Scribner and Net Galley for providing me with a free e-galley in exchange for an honest, unbiased review.
SheTreadsSoftly More than 1 year ago
Manhattan Beach by Jennifer Egan is a highly recommended historical fiction novel set in New York City during the Depression and World War II. In 1934 Anna Kerrigan, nearly twelve years old, accompanies her father, Eddie, to visit Dexter Styles at his Manhattan Beach home. Styles is with the mob and Eddie is looking for a job with him so he can leave his job as a bagman for a crooked union official. Styles insists that people who come to visit him bring their families, but Anna is the only family member who can go with Eddie. His wife is at home caring for their severely disable daughter, Lydia. Part of the reason Eddie wants a job with Styles is for the better pay, which will enable him to buy a specially made chair for Lydia. Years later the world is at war. Anna is nineteen and supporting her mother and sister by working at the Brooklyn Navel Yard. Her father, Eddie disappeared five years ago, leaving his family behind with no word. After seeing divers in the yard, Anna is intrigued and obsessively sets her sights on becoming the first female diver. It is at this time that she meets Dexter Styles as an adult, at one of his nightclubs. When Anna meets him again, she hopes he can tell her what happened to her father. The quality of the writing is brilliant. Manhattan Beach manages to capture the time and place to such an extent that you are transported there. What starts out as a seemingly simple, well-written novel evolves into a much more rich and intricate story following three narratives. Adding to the depth of the prose is the ocean as an ever prevalent motif in Manhattan Beach. It transfixes Anna, transports Eddie. It enthralls, mesmerizes, destroys, saves, engages, and employees. It offers life and death. The characters are wonderfully realized and complex. The strengths and flaws of her diverse characters are firmly established. Egan has some surprising phrasing and apt, remarkable descriptions that utterly capture the moment and the emotions and sensations a character is feeling. Her characters are allowed to be themselves, full of conflicting allegiances and emotions, without resorting to clichés. In the final analysis, however, I do wish that Egan has chosen to keep the story focused on Anna. While I can logically see the wisdom behind the choice to branch out and spend so much time on all three narratives, Anna was the character I was drawn to and cared anxiously about. She had my fealty and support, while the actions of Styles and Eddie were more of a passing interest. Disclosure: My review copy was courtesy of Scribner.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The beginning of the book I liked. The writing style was exceptionally good. It was interesting to read about how divers were used in WWII/ Furthermore, it had a stronger plot line than much modern that I have recently read which I liked. However, the ending of the book was very weak. The book just stopped with no resolution; the style of the first half of the book required a strong finish that had a twist. I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
CRSK More than 1 year ago
What I was drawn to: The story centers on Anna Kerrigan, and her Irish family, beginning in Brooklyn during the Great Depression, an era and location that should come alive, so much rich history to drawn from. So, what did and didn’t work for me? I was drawn into this story for very brief periods of time. When Anna was caring for her sister, whose disabilities require constant care and supervision, her devotion to her sister - admirable, and her delight when Lydia showed any positive reaction, charmingly sweet. When Anna’s father took her on a business related house call to a man who lived by the sea. When Anna was with her friend Nell, she came alive, again. When Anna fights her way through the negative view of women doing men’s work in her dreams to learn to dive, she shows her spirit and determination. However, there are also many situations where Anna’s just another character, lost and fading. It wasn’t really that Anna was a more likable character than the others, it was a mixture of the episodic shuffle of time and place and person, which made the structure of this story feel very disjointed, and possibly even more for me was feeling as though there was a lot of ‘telling’ and not enough ‘showing,’ the writing, unnatural and stilted. I was indifferent at least as much or more than I was interested. The writing is decent, but I did not find it to be above average or lovely. My interest diminished, my attention drifted. My frustration grew. I am sure that there will be more than a sufficient number of readers who will love this novel. Perhaps I expected too much, but I know I wanted more. Many thanks for the ARC provided by Scribner
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book is terrible. Interesting story to stasrt, but jums around and edns soso. And way too many great coincidences like diving and finding. Fathets watch. Hard to bbelieve won awards or was even considered. Maybe ok read for eighth grade girls.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Steven