I was just bragging about all the emails we’d been getting for this column when the well dried up these last couple of weeks. Serves me right. It reminded me to stay humble and grateful for every one of you who sends your bookish thoughts our way.
I’m especially grateful for a couple of recommendations we received recently that I ended up thoroughly enjoying. They’re books I probably wouldn’t have stumbled across on my own, and I’m so glad our readers kept me from missing out.
As North Shore Reading Roundup Reader Barb Liukkonen promised I would, I loved Ariel Lawhon’s The Frozen River. From the first few pages, it was easy to see what an immersive book it would be, and I mean that nearly literally if seeing is referring to my mind’s eye. Lawhon’s writing is so vivid, detailed, and at times poetic that the scenes feel almost physical. The plot moves quickly and cold, not unlike the water under a frozen river, and it pulls you along before you realize how deep you’ve gone.
I could easily see this book become a PBS series, one I would happily sit down for. The book stayed close to me throughout my busy week. It was outside while I let the dogs out, in the kitchen while I waited for water to boil, and sometimes a little too close to my day job work desk, calling out to me to play hooky with a book(y). (Sorry)
The Frozen River follows Martha Ballard, an 18th-century midwife and healer in Maine whose real diaries documented decades of births, deaths, and community disputes. Lawhon builds a mystery from one of those entries: a man found frozen in the Kennebec River and another accused of a violent assault.
Martha’s medical knowledge, her stubborn moral clarity, and her willingness to stand up to powerful men drive the story. The novel blends historical record with imagined interior life, giving readers a portrait of a woman who kept meticulous notes while navigating a world that rarely listened to her.
I jumped right into Sipsworth next, since it had arrived from the library. The recommendation from the Reading Farmer a few weeks ago sounded too interesting to wait, so I ordered it up right away. I’m glad I didn’t let it sit for long.
I’ll admit, the beginning of Simon Van Booy’s novel was achingly sad, and even though it’s a short book, it felt slow to get going. Maybe I was sipping on it slowly, as sometimes you have to do with sad stories. I’m so glad I stayed with it. It was well worth it.
Sipsworth centers on an elderly woman named Helen who has spent years living quietly, almost invisibly, after a lifetime of losses. Her world shifts when she discovers a small mouse in her home. Caring for the creature, first reluctantly, then with growing tenderness, pulls her back toward connection, routine, and purpose.
The book is about loneliness, the slow thaw of grief, and the way even the smallest responsibility can reawaken someone who has nearly stopped participating in their own life.
It reminded me of a book I mentioned a few months back by Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning. Frankl wrote that “life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning,” and that idea runs straight through Sipsworth. Helen doesn’t need a grand mission; she needs something to tend, something that depends on her. A mouse, a man, a project, a goal…the scale doesn’t matter. What matters is the spark that pulls a person forward again.
I’m back into rivers again with a copy of Duluth author Ryan Rodgers’ Where the Green Light Shines. The book traces the long tradition of northern canoe travel, following legendary paddler Bob O’Hara through decades of journeys into the Canadian barrens and the Boundary Waters. Rodgers uses O’Hara’s expeditions to tell a wider story about the people who shaped modern wilderness paddling.
He’ll be visiting the Grand Marais Public Library on Saturday, September 12, for an author talk presented by Drury Lane Books. I’m looking forward to talking with him soon and featuring that conversation in an edition of the NSJ!
Meanwhile, North Shore Reading Roundup Readers, we don’t have a lot more time for summer reading. What are you reading now? What rivers of stories did you go down this summer? What sad stories resonated with you? What surprised you, steadied you, stayed with you? What did you sip on, and what was worth your while? Send them my way at sarahwritesnsj@yahoo.com. I promise to stay humble about it this time and grateful as ever.
