As an indication of how desperately parched my reading throat was, I consumed this book in a few hours last night. I just couldn’t stop myself, reading and whirling in the characters’ Ocean Beach fog, tensely waiting to see what Holland would do– would he choose his old lover over his wife and son?
“We think we know the ones we love.” With this first sentence, Greer has me hooked, and I’m lapping up the story of Pearlie Cook, who meets her husband as a stranger twice; once in Kentucky, where they were sweethearts, and once as she passes by him on the beach in San Francisco where she’s gone to work for the war effort and where he comes home after his tour of duty.
The way Pearlie drops hints along the way, the breadcrumbs to lead us deeper into her story, just beautiful. “For me, it came in 1953.” “It was 1953. It was a Saturday.” “In 1953, nothing had changed.” “It was 1953. It was a Saturday.” Simple repetition, driving the suspense forward.
Read it, read it, read it. It’s breathtakingly beautiful.
auth=Greer, Andrew Sean