Reviews for The House by the Sea

The average rating for The House by the Sea based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2016-10-03 00:00:00 Sarah Winters This is the sixth of Sarton’s journals I’ve read. It covers 1975–6, when she was 63–4 and in her second year in Maine. Her health is not yet a worry, at least as compared to later journals, but there is a faint sense of diminished abilities and an awareness of death’s approach. Poetry has run dry for her, but in the course of writing this journal she publishes a series of biographical reflections and prepares to begin a new novel. Tamas the dog and Bramble the cat are faithful companions, but she is coming to terms with the idea that passionate, individual love will not come again and is to be replaced by more widespread love of others. Her former lover, Judy, suffers from dementia and visits with her are mostly painful reminders of what has been lost. These journals are not the place to turn if you want momentous events. Rather, read them for deep insight into a writer’s psyche, meditations on the benefits of solitude, and affirmation of the quiet joys of gardening and an ocean view. It’s also remarkable for the casual references to people she knew in her early years in Europe, like Virginia Woolf, Colette and Julian Huxley – these last two die in the course of the journal. Current events only rarely intrude into the narrative, as when Sarton expresses her hopes about Jimmy Carter being elected and frets over turbulence in the Middle East (exhibiting, alas, her unquestioning support of Israel). My copies of the journals always end up bristled with Post-It flags: every few pages there’s a line that perfectly captures the life of the woman writer. Here’s just a few of the stand-out lines: “Solitude shared with animals has a special quality and rarely turns into loneliness.” “The greatest danger, as I see it in myself, is the danger of withdrawal into private worlds. We have to keep the channels in ourselves open to pain. At the same time it is essential that true joys be experiences, that the sunrise not leave us unmoved, for civilization depends on the true joys, all those that have nothing to do with money or affluence—nature, the arts, human love.” “Gardening is like poetry in that it is gratuitous, and also that it cannot be done on will alone. What will can do, and the only thing it can do, is make time in which to do it.” An added delight of this journal is the black-and-white photographs, taken by her friend Beverly. Though they’re really no more than amateur snaps, it’s particularly appropriate to see the house and its setting given the journal’s focus stated in the title.

Review # 2 was written on 2014-06-21 00:00:00 Sha-minah A Souza This is my favorite of May Sarton's journals, and I have read it many times over. In part, this book reflects my own experience of falling madly in love with living in Maine. I love her luminous descriptions of the Maine light in all its seasons. This book also resonates for me because it was written during a period of happiness in her life and resonates with the joy that I experience in living alone.