(My copy was kindly given to me by the author in exchange for an honest review.)
"All those years lighting the night sky, of preserving at least a glimmer of the dawn, and they didn’t know how to live without it. Something very dear had been taken from them, and they fought with everything they had to not let it go."
You go to a concert right after reading this. You try to drink a glass of red wine, because this had you weeping, but all that gets you is tipsy and feeling alienated from everyone around you. Like you are once removed from the room and the people in it. You are here, but you are not here. You have no connection other than your physical presence to where you are.
You feel lost and lonely, and if someone like Chris had walked up to you and asked you to do something reckless, you’d have jumped aboard. Wouldn’t we all? There are few desires deeper than the desire to belong. With belonging comes connecting to something or, more often, as is also the case in this book, someone. It’s nothing big, although it bleeds through everything, but to belong and connect takes nothing more than for your presence to be noticed and desired. Connecting is knowing these people care about you and always will. Despite them not saying it, you know that you are somehow a priority.
That this connection sometimes springs from necessity is insignificant. You shared something, you were in it together – you were not alone.
For 90% of the book, I thought this was what it was about, which I wouldn’t mind at all, but it seemed a little obvious. Then you get to the end. And it’s magnificent, because somehow you should have seen it coming, but you don’t. Despite this book not having the most original premise (I mean, rich boys at a boarding school, we’ve heard it before) it gradually becomes something incredibly meaningful.
Perhaps I was so moved by it, because it mirrors a lot of the things I’m going through right now – except my family is a lot more loveable. And it’s when you don’t have a family – or at least not one you feel connected to – that your friends take on the shape of one. The bond they end up sharing is ridiculous, the things they'll do for each other are more than most friends would, but they do it because they have nothing else. It's not doing reckless shit that keeps them feeling alive, it's doing it for someone else.
Being isolated on this small island, removed from the world, they find strength in each other to face the things they left behind. It's amazing, really, what the presence of someone else beside you can do for your resolve. For Jacob, however, it is not in the connection to his friends that he finds the key to his past, it’s in the loss of it. His story is different from the others, and as Chris wisely states, the most interesting. It is not, for him, about rebelling against his family at all odds, it’s coming to terms with it.
“Have you ever lost something so dear to you, that you would do everything to get it back?”
The story itself is one that could have been boring, but miraculously isn’t. Not a lot happens, but the interactions between Jacob, his three unlikely friends and a cast of fitting side characters are interesting enough to keep us hanging onto every word. I was never bored, in fact I hardly wanted to put it down.
"Well you know what you’ve got there?”
“Hmm?”
“A nice scar. Not one that you can see, but it’s a scar just the same. Thirty years from now when you step out into the snow and feel that cold creep back in, you’re going to think back to when you had your tangle with the sea. That’s what a scar is. A reminder that once upon a time you were hurt bad enough to be changed by it.”