Unlike The end of the
point, this similarly themed story of a resort in far northern Minnesota
was a full of unique and colorful characters.
Granted, I’m prejudiced in favor of the area, which I know well, but
even if you have never battled mosquitoes, endured outhouses, or spent your
summers at a small, decaying resort, you will love the interwoven stories of
the year-round residents and the summer people who have returned through the
years to vacation there. The central
story revolves around Meg, who lost her parents in an airplane crash when very
young, and her paternal grandfather, Vaclav, the Czech immigrant who owns the
resort. But the cast of characters
includes amongst others Meg’s ex-husband, an Englishman; a Sarajevo refugee who
is sponsored by two churches who can’t afford “their own refugee;” a young girl
who copes with her ADHD by turning situations into haiku; a lonely Ojibwe who
is a master craftsman; and Polly, a retired science teacher who arrives at the
resort to write a memoir, finds it bores her, and stumbles into a second career
as a novelist. And never leaves. I didn’t want to either. 288 pp.
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