On a windswept stretch of the Durham coastline, there’s treasure to be jewels of shining sea glass, swept in by the tide after years at sea. Gathered together in a jar on the windowsill, each seaworn pebble is a moment in time, a glinting archive of unknowable lives.
Seaglass is a collection of such moments; essays blending creative non-fiction with nature writing and memoir, and portraying with powerful observation and moving honesty the journey of a young woman navigating modern adulthood. The stories draw a map of Kathryn’s life, from Manchester to the South Wales coastline and out to the Thousand Islands in Canada’s Saint Lawrence River. Traversing wilderness, natural history, travel and water – rivers, lakes, coastlines and leisure centres – Seaglass explores shared experiences, anxieties, confidence and contentment.
I haven’t found much seaglass recently when wandering along the beach. When we were in Sardinia a few years ago, I found loads on the beaches there and brought them home. I love its pale, jewel-like qualities, the razor-sharp edges of the glass rubbed smooth by its passage through the ocean.
Even though I found a lot in Sardinia, there was never enough to fill an old-style sweet jar, unlike Kathryn Tann. It is one of her favourite possessions, containing memories of the beaches that she has visited and the jangle of the glass in her pocket as she left the rubbly beach with her most recent finds.
It is the essay on her seaglass that starts this frankly magnificent collection of essays and other fragments of Tann’s writing. She has deftly woven a mix of memoir, family history, nature writing and even a little travel writing.
This smorgasbord of writing, some longer pieces, some only a page and others only a paragraph and about a variety of subjects from the perfect gravy, swimming and even dance. These fragments of her life have been picked up and poured carefully into this book.
You could read the pages of a book under this moon. Everything is sepia; the grass is bleached, the dark sea silver-plated, reversing the whole scene’s shadows like a negative photo reel.
I loved this book. The prose is sparse and measured and she writes each piece from her heart. I am not sure who her literary influences are, but she is the closest author that I have read to Kathleen Jamie. This is a truly wonderful book and I can’t wait to read more from her.
I picked this up at a bookstore in Manchester because I don’t know the last time I held a hard cover, and this one caught my eye. I’m lucky I did, for Tann’s essays helped soften the blow of my somewhat dreaded return back to Wisconsin after a long bit of traveling; they reminded me what our roots mean for us and how much we owe to them. They also reminded me how important change is, and that when we embrace it, we flower. Oscillating between personal narratives of her coming of age and more recent collection of seaglass on the beach, Tann tells us her story through the landscape of Great Britain. She writes gently, taking care that you understand the terrain and flora of where she is. I especially appreciated her writing on the ever changing quality of her wilderness, it is somehow never new but always changing. Just like home x :
“It’s true that there are familiar shoots of green unfurling now, and brighter blooms will be budding soon, too. But this is not the same landscape that it was last year, or the year before. Some things are perennial, but their leaves are new each time they emerge, growing glossy from the mulch of their predecessors. Change, like time, is not reversible. Places like Marsden are not so much rocks to cling to when it sweeps around us. They are more like rivers. Life giving, adaptable, and always, for as long as they flow, moving forwards,” (102-103).
From the title, I assumed this book would be more about the titular seaglass however my enjoyment wasn't marred by the fact that many other subjects raised their head instead.
Kathryn Tann has an easy way of writing which feels conversational and breezy, as if one is walking and talking with a friend. I like the fact that she exposes her fears and insecurities and mulls over her concerns and assumed shortcomings in life.
There are some lovely moments captured here, simple snapshots of time that can be lifelong memories hoarded in the brain for perusal and remembrance during harder times.
Thank you to Calon for sending me a proof copy in exchange for an honest review.
I would rate this as 3.5 stars; Seaglass is a lovely collection of thoughtful and reflective essays, which steer its genre further towards nature writing than memoir in my opinion. Having said that, there are a few essays that stand out as not adhering to a set genre or structure, like the essay about the Tann's struggle with acne and subsequent relationship with makeup. Due to this wide selection of essays, the book did feel a little incoherent at times. There were also variations in style throughout, as the opening pages of the book read as metaphorical and delicate, where the reader can read between what is written to interpret a meaning that works for them. However, further through the book the style becomes much more 'matter-of-fact', not allowing much space for personal connotations and understanding. I preferred the initial style and would've enjoyed the book more if it was written this way, as a personal preference. Overall, this is an enjoyable and readable work of nonfiction, with some lovely short excerpts and illustrations between each essay.
This was a solid debut and I'm glad I picked it up :) Nonfiction isn't so bad after all!
I had the privilege of meeting Kathryn Tann at the 2024 Hay Festival for a writing 'walkshop' (my new favourite term) on nature writing, and had bought and read Seaglass in the days prior as preparation. I don't usually underline in my books, but there were some beautiful turns of phrase and descriptions that I had to capture. Though I personally have not dealt with severe acne, Tann's depiction of growing up with it was painful to read, as so many young people - particularly girls - go through it and acquire intense body image issues :(
I found the book getting a little too disjointed in the second half as it turned into a series of moments rather than following a narrative - though the moments did loosely tell a story over time - but that is more a reflection on personal taste than execution of craft.
Overall a short, enjoyable, read filled with gorgeous imagery from tiny bits of glass to vast national parks. The book and writing walkshop have inspired me to keep plodding away at my own attempts at nature writing, and I know I want to return to the book and reread it :)
A jewel of a book This beautiful book has such an appealing cover and concept. Who doesn’t love to beach comb, losing hours just wandering along the shoreline, gathering the detritus washed in by the tide. If we are lucky enough to find seaglass itself, it’s the jewel in the crown. We roll it around in our hand and marvel at its smoothness unique to its journey. For aren’t we all tumbled and shaped by the waves as we live our lives in the ebb and flow of whatever life’s tides bring.
Tann has shared a collection of discoveries, transitions and significant moments in her life, which have brought her to adulthood. Just like the jar of seaglass she keeps on the window sill, each one holds a memory to recall and treasure.
A simple life Passages which particularly resonated with me relate to getting back to a simpler life of simple pleasures and reconnecting with nature.
‘It’s rare to go out and break the dew without somewhere to reach, or a dog to exercise; with just the simple knowledge that this does me good’
I thought a lot about the simplicity of this and although it wasn’t early morning, I simply took myself off one evening … just to be outside. I ended up on one of the glorious Malvern Hills, just before sunset. It was magical! Just to stop, to notice, to listen, to really see and to feel my surroundings made me feel connected again. It certainly did me the power of good.
Tann takes us on her journey as we meander through her life to date, with all its ups and downs. The power of nature to heal is ever present.
Food for thought She also shares a series of food and mealtime memories in an essay ‘To Make The Perfect Gravy‘. This too had me nodding and reminiscing.
She cleverly transitions from childhood favourites to adolescence, to takeaways, to seasonal treats to student meals to ‘welcome home’ specials, to romantic meals to food abroad, to the comfortably familiar to the perfect (almost) gravy. For me this emphasises the joy of breaking bread with family, friends and lovers. How meals form the foundation of many a tradition. Of how the smell of a certain food can evoke such emotion and return us to a moment in time: how old were were, where we were and who we were with. These are our core memories which can bring such joy or sometimes sadness at something long lost.
The power of nature Seaglass is a truly refreshing read. It’s both contemplative and honest. It reminds us of the importance and benefits of slowing down, of connecting with nature wherever it can be found, whether it’s watching a swan build its nest on old and forgotten plastic bags at the side of the canal or wild swimming off the Pembrokeshire coast.
‘Nature doesn’t care – it’s everywhere. It can make the most of what it’s got’
I picked this up in a bookshop on my last holiday. And I’ve read it on this holiday. It’s a collection of essays. Some spellbinding. Some less so. All full of nature. I was drawn to this book by the lure of seaglass. Sadly, for me, that only features in one essay - I’d have happily read many more essays about it. As it is I can say that I’ve enjoyed some of the essays. And others I could have lived without.