Sea Glass by Anita Shreve

Unusual to read a novel. My habits in reading veer toward texts and how to craft books.
But, I stepped out and read this novel.
It is hard to "get into" because although the subject is not far away, the writing is not
usual for my wit. The book takes place here in New England. The author made up
a fictitious village, Ely near Lowell Mass where the Gin Mills are operative. The time
is when the Lawrence Gin Mills went on strike back in the 1930s. Well, all this seems
right up my alley. I love visiting Lowell when Lowell Celebrates Jack Kerouac. I love
visiting the Boot Mill in Lowell and watching a dramatization of the Lawrence strike. I like
looking at the running weaving machines although no longer in use, now only
a museum to look at ,..it is kind of intriguing...as are the many spinning wheels and
explained displays of how cotton from the south becomes spun into fabric. All
very appropriate to learn about.
The book has a central couple who have travelled to Boston, Ely Mills village to
settle. They are recently wed and need to start a life among this population of
Gin Mill workers....needless to say , their struggle is great and they nearly
lose their new house to foreclosure because of the working conditions and the
lack of place for a new couple.
It is not about a jew getting along in a white community. It is about a white
couple who metaphorically are gazing at the sea glass collected on the
beaches in the area...Cape Cod and along the Merrimack. Like their life,
the sea glass is worn down, covered with pock marks from the washing of the
waves and becomes a pleasing found object to gaze upon.
It is an interesting read for the demography and politics of the time and place. The
workers are forced to accept managements decisions to lower wages for their
tedious gin mill work....and this brings foreclosure to the McDermott's house.
The Mc Dermotts are the central couple.
There are some very beautiful metaphors in the book...."Honora looks for sea glass.
She finds a slim sliver of amethyst and a jewel-like bit of cobalt. She picks up a thick chunk that looks like dirty ice after a long winter, ice that has been skated on and gone cloudy with use.....She puts the pieces in her pocket and takes them home and lays them on a
windowsill."( page 110).