For many the idea of living off the land is a romantic notion left to stories of olden days or wistful dreams at the office. But for Sara Loewen it becomes her way of life each summer as her family settles into their remote cabin on Uyak Bay for the height of salmon season. With this connection to thousands of years of fishing and gathering at its core, Gaining Daylight explores what it means to balance lives on two islands, living within both an ancient way of life and the modern world. Her personal essays integrate natural and island history with her experiences of fishing and family life, as well as the challenges of living at the northern edge of the Pacific.
Loewen’s writing is richly descriptive; readers can almost feel heat from wood stoves, smell smoking salmon, and spot the ways the ocean blues change with the season. With honesty and humor, Loewen easily draws readers into her world, sharing the rewards of subsistence living and the peace brought by miles of crisp solitude.
This beautiful debut collection by Sara Loewen is one to savor. I was immediately pulled in to the book by her melodic writing style and her contemplative, gently humorous voice, and I found it hard to put down.
The subtle tensions in her essays spoke to me in several ways: as a parent "in the trenches," juggling endless demands and sleeplessness amid moments of precious bliss; as a partner trying to nurture myself as well as my relationship; and as an Alaskan making peace with isolation in exchange for pristine beauty and strong community. Ultimately, though, her writing has universal appeal, as it speaks to our experience with love and loneliness, our search for happiness, and our desire to live well and make our mark, despite our small and temporal existence. Loewen weaves a good deal of history with her own personal narratives, carefully and artistically finding meaningful points of contact between past, present, and future.
Like a delicious meal, I wanted to consume this book start-to-finish in one setting, but I forced myself to slow down and enjoy every morsel, because I didn't want to miss the delicacies or rush the experience. I approaching it almost as I would poetry, pausing to re-read and appreciate her lyrical, vivid descriptions and phrases. I managed to spread the experience out over a couple of days, and even then, I was almost sad to reach the final pages. Her words and images have stayed with me, though, and they still come to me at different moments throughout my day. I am glad I savored this book, and I am excited for anyone who is discovering it for the first time.
So delicious. Sara's storytelling voice is gentle and gritty at the same time. I learned so much about the history of Kodiak Island and people who have lived here, and felt like I had an intimate window into the heart and lives of this little family. Thank you for writing this book!
Earlier this summer I spent a few days walking in the mountains near my home beside the Prespa Lakes with members of conservation organisations from each of the three countries that share the watershed. One of the particular joys of that weekend for me was being able to listen to the different stories that each person told of the landscape, how grounded they were in the natural and cultural worlds of the high peaks. They spoke of words in each of their languages that reflected some ecological aspect of the alpine meadows or talked of customs specific to their cultures that were indelibly linked to the ground that we walked.
In Gaining Daylight: Life on Two Islands, Sara Loewen achieves a similar thing, gifting the reader a view of the remote Alaskan islands where she lives and works with her family. She tells her stories of connection, while sometimes questioning her reason for being there, in such a way that we’re drawn into that relationship ourselves, so intimate is the weave of her words. Loewen’s writing shimmers with particular beauty in such meditative essays as ‘Winter in June,’ ‘Cardinal Points,’ and ‘To Know a Place,’ when her language rides a current to the sensual surface. These aren’t essays written from the distance of a tour ship or after a fleeting northern holiday, but are grounded in the everyday joys and difficulties of living, and sometimes struggling, in place. It’s a land where tough simplicity mingles with moments of beauty and awe. Motherhood and whales, children and storms, salmon fishing and marriage; all appear without the need to categorise the distinctions, the domestic so consistently interwoven with the wild until a single thing emerges: an honest portrayal of life being lived at the join of water and earth. Like the conservationists who conjured a different world for me with their words, Loewen names her island into being: “We are rich in driftwood. Rich in fish. Rich in wind and blue tides.”
Gaining Daylight, Sara Loewen's recently published debut book is a collection of essays in the memoir style about life in Kodiak. Sara's husband Peter is a fisherman, and every summer they leave Kodiak City and spend the fishing season on Amook Island, in Uyak bay, on the southwestern part of Kodiak Island. Sara's book tells of her life in these two places, raising two young sons, and experiencing the kind of return to a subsistence way of life that many of us will never know.
Sara's writing is intelligent, clear, and inviting. Her book is equal parts personal history, history of Kodiak, meditation, reflection, and paean to Home and Family. I'm certainly biased, because I grew up in Kodiak, and went to school with Sara, but I think this is a wonderful book, and I recommend it highly.
Thoroughly enjoyed this. The essays are set in the unique landscape of Kodiak, AK, where the author lives with her husband and two young sons in the town of Kodiak in the winter, and at a fish site on the other side of the island in the summer. Having lived there in Kodiak when I was young, it was fun to recognize certain aspects of the landscape and lifestyle in the essays, but I am now long and far removed from Alaskan life. However, I think many can identify with the author's observations of life becoming the mother of two young sons, settling into family life after travelling to and living in various interesting places, and her take on the history of where she now lives. The writing drew me in with an honest, straightforward, personal, and vivid style. It's not easy living in Alaska. My favorite essay was "The Simple Life" where the author reminds us (gently and with humor) of the realities of living off the land, while still showing a deep appreciation of the beauty of her surroundings.
The perfect book to finish on a gray day with snow flakes falling lazily out of the sky. I feel such contentment and quiet, it's as though Sara Loewen's words massaged my brain.
Written by a local author, this book was a delight to read. The Author, Sara Loewen, speaks poetically, but honestly about life on remote parts of Kodiak island. She doesn't try to sugar coat the hard work and loneliness that she can feel at times, yet understands that she has access to wildness and beauty that few others get to experience. It is almost like a dance of words, describing a performance that takes place daily to live a subsistence life, raise her children, support her husband, yet find her own comfort place within this astounding natural world.
Gorgeous. Not every essay is perfect (I found the set net / remote cabin sections more fascinating and beautiful -- the symbolic gestures worked better) but taken together it's an engrossing, meditative examination of a different way to live, and the beauties that result.
I am a frequent reader of 49 Writers and it was from this site that I learned about Sarah Loewen, an Alaskan writer who was one of their featured writers in 2013. I enjoyed the essays on writing that she contributed there and was intrigued to read her book, Gaining Daylight: Life on two Islands.
Sarah has a way of pulling the reader into her life, her islands, her home. In Gaining Daylight her essays focus on her life as a mother and a wife for part of the year on Kodiak Island, AK, and continue to follow her life at her family’s fishing site on Uyak Bay, a much more secluded location, where they travel for part of the year for her husband’s work as a commercial fisherman. Her life revolves around these two places and includes going back and forth between a modern life and one that follows more old fashioned ways of living.
Since I have young children and work towards being a writer I was connected to her essays and her struggles with balancing the two on top of work, marriage, and some kind of leisure time. Plus both of our husbands do a lot of fishing, mine more with a fly rod. Composed in her essays about her life and her husband’s occupation as a commercial fisherman, Loewen writes about her connection to her natural world including the discomforts that can arise, even in a place one considers as home. Amidst the history and stories about her life on her two islands is Loewen’s steady voice that causes one to pause and take a look at their surroundings, consider life in the past, and to appreciate each day as they move and change with the seasons.
Loewen's essays are uneven, but this collection grew on me as I read on. Her interests are diverse, from the nitty gritty of parenting young children to Russia's history in Alaska to the impact and artifacts of World War II on Kodiak Island. Loewen reaches for good writing, sometimes overreaching ("Fifteen Times over the Bridge" underimpressed me), but her humor and insights carry the day. I especially loved her adaptation of international shipping signals to the concerns of young parents. (Read it--I don't want to give it away.)
Woefully disappointed. The ratings were so high, the reviews so lovely. This book is actually a series of essays, which, on principle, I'm not opposed to, yet these were so fragmented that it detracts from the story Loewen is trying to tell. And the story? It's an interesting one. I really want to know her story, the story of life on a small island in Alaska, a fishing town. Her prose was so beautiful... for a paragraph, then I'm lost.
4 stars because Sara Loewen is a talented writer. But I had a hard time getting through this slim volume. I found it really depressing. The author didn't seem to like summer or winter! She just seemed generally down about living in Alaska, motherhood, etc. I didn't believe her when she mentioned how much she loves living here. Life in Alaska is hard for sure. But these essays made it seem particularly dreary.
If I could have given it 6 stars, I would have. I didn't want this book to end! So beautiful, so thoughtful, so lovingly crafted. And such interesting reflections on home, fishing, the sea, nature... I'll be reading this one again for sure.
Reading this book was like visiting with a friend as she tells stories about her life. I enjoyed the pictures that she put a the start of each essay; they added a depth to the story.
A wonderful tribute to many different aspects of Kodiak Island and its unique lifestyle. I absolutely loved the essays and how they formed a portrait of our home.