~ The Silver Dark Sea, by Susan Fletcher ~
This novel of Fletcher’s has a few distinctive elements in common with some of her other novels, like the House of Glass, and Let Me Tell You About A Man I Knew. In each case, a new person is introduced into a very particular setting, where otherwise little changes, and where the community is small, bounded. The coming of the stranger rapidly changes much in those spaces, and most importantly, changes the people there in terms of how they perceive themselves, their lives, their relationships. It seems to give them clarity, veracity, and eventually, courage and relief. The stranger’s presence which is more than catalyst, may have been suspect at first, but ends up heartening.
Fletcher’s writing always embeds her storyline and cast of characters into their landscape and land very deeply. The Silver Dark Sea is set in the island of Parla, where the lighthouse used to dominate, and where otherwise, it is mostly animal farming. One day, on the beach of Sye, a ‘Fishman’ is thrown up onto the beach and rescued by some Parlans. Thereafter, the world is never the same again for Parla or its inhabitants. (A Fishman is one of their legends, in a place where stories are told and retold, passed on to provide strength, identity, comfort, reasons for going on, reasons for hope.)
This novel has quite a large cast of characters, all of whom are related to each other by blood or marriage. Fletcher kindly provides a family tree which helps keeps everyone ‘placed’ for the reader – but she is a good enough writer so that each character slowly develops his or her own story and/or background, to distinguish them as individuals.
Fletcher focuses on relationships and emotions. She writes of luminous sorrows and joys. There are unhappy people, but no villains here. There is a lot of magic in the landscapes, in the shades of light and dark, in the presence and power of the sea ever present and in close proximity. Even the names of people’s house are evocative – Wind Rising, High Haven, Lowfield, Crest, Stash, Tavey. Her writing has a distinctive voice, particularly in her setting up of atmospheres, her weaving of a story’s enchantments. When reading a Fletcher novel, one has the curious sensation that things keep happening and happening, the pace is steady, the story keeps unfolding, and yet one is standing still.
That narrative and storytelling is very important to her, underpins all her writing.
For as children, we are told stories of magic and unending love. But then we grow and discover that cells divide, that love can be uneven, that loneliness can sweep a man’s skin away so that he’s bare, bleeding, and feels then the softest touch as a pain. […] How we clung to the Fishman of Sye – as if he alone could save us. And maybe he did in his own small way.
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For Fletcher, stories are salvation.
Reviewers of this and other Fletcher novels typically use words like mythical, engrossing, resonant, lyrical, redemptive; and not without justification. There are some criticisms from those who claim the people in her stories are too good to be true – but this is just a grumble rather than a fair criticism. Fletcher’s depictions are of complexity and nuance of emotions and personalities, not of good and evil. She writes with exceptional tenderness, and it is moving to see how she takes her time about it. The Fletcher worldview with its sprinkling of magic dust is imparted to the reader through the narrative of course, but even more so through the author’s gentle, rapturous handling of narrative.
The Silver Dark Sea, by Susan Fletcher. Fourth Estate, 2013.
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