On the Shores of Darkness, There is Light
by Cordelia Strube
In my final review related to the International Festival of Authors, something that hasn’t happened since I think The Fault in Our Stars repeated itself. You see, all the characters in On the Shores of Darkness, There is Light have very clear voices, but one in particular had the wrong one initially. When Darcy, a 12 year-old girl, first spoke to Harriet, the protagonist, she sounded more like a middle aged man with a thick Russian accent trying to connect with “the youth,” to me at least. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t un-hear it through that entire first exchange, but, thankfully, it fell away as the story went on.
And the story itself was great. On the Shores of Darkness, There is Light follows Harriet, a young girl whose life grew much more complicated since her little brother, Irwin, was born with hydrocephalus, leading to developmental delays, seizures, and plenty of trips to the hospital. Feeling progressively more ignored and invisible, Harriet works to save up enough money to run away to Algonquin Park, hole up in a cabin, and paint like Tom Thompson. In doing so, she struggles with the true natures of the relationships with those around her––especially Irwin––and the concepts of right and wrong.
Harriet’s pretty great, but, after Heroes of the Frontier and Chalk, I think it’s becoming abundantly clear that the best way to create a character who is appealing to me is by making them a well-meaning jerk. In this instance, her curtness is likely what makes her special; at times it’s a matter of being a child’s oversimplification of things, but, more often, it’s a mature understanding of the truth that she’s able to uncover by sifting through the bullshit. And Strube’s story is largely about bullshit and misunderstandings. Adults rarely listen to Harriet, often even going so far as to ask a question, and continuing the discussion based around an assumption of what Harriet “should have” responded, despite what she actually said. But this even extends to characters barely paying attention to the things that come out of their own mouths. Probably the best example of this––not significant enough to the plot to constitute a spoiler warning––involves a discussion between Harriet and Lynne, her mother. After telling Harriet how much she resembles her father, Lynne proceeds to criticize his parents by saying he was never good enough, ultimately criticizing herself in the process without realizing it. And this is where Harriet’s different: She gets it, overall. Rather than her lack of understanding holding her back, she lacks the means to change things.
Probably the most interesting thing, to me, about On the Shores of Darkness was the nostalgia that the author was able to cultivate in the first part and evoke in the second part. This appears, at a cursory glance, to involve peppering memorable, significant moments throughout the first and touching on them, having characters comment on them, either misremembering them or showing that things were different than we originally thought, in the second. No matter how the effect was achieved, I really think this gave a great deal of the poignancy to Strube’s story, and warrants a great deal of study by any serious author.
But, even if you have no interest in deeper analysis of the story, On the Shores of Darkness, There is Light is vibrant, touching, and thoughtful throughout. If you ever come across it, read it; you won’t be disappointed.