Emma's Reviews > The Lighthouse Keeper's Daughter

The Lighthouse Keeper's Daughter

Having enjoyed Cherry Radford’s first two novels, Men Dancing and Flamenco Baby, I have been looking forward to this new story from her, and it doesn’t disappoint. In The Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughter the author narrates an Anglo-Spanish tale familiar from her earlier books and, as you would expect from this Flamenco-phile, the Palos is stitched in to the fabric of the story but is not such a dominant “character” as it is in Flamenco Baby.

The Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughter tells the story of Imogen, frustrated writer, recently separated wife and unpopular Mum. Imogen has relocated to the South Downs from suburban Surrey to regroup when chance brings to her the music of madrileno Flamenco guitarist, Santiago. The novel shares with us the development of Imogen and Santi’s relationship, established and nurtured, at least in the early months, via Twitter, WhatsApp and Skype. It is a gentle, but absorbing, story driven by the very likeable Imogen whose outward vulnerabilities - emotional and well as physical - mask a resolute and determined core. No spoilers here, but like Cherry Radford’s earlier work, the course for Imogen, the lighthouse keeper’s daughter of the title, is not straightforward; over the autumn of 2012 through to the May of 2013, she explores, unravels and rethreads various relationships, old and new, family and friends.

For me, what Cherry Radford achieves most successfully in The Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughter is the sense of place, both in Sussex and Madrid, but particularly the former. Imogen lives on the edge, literally, of the Seven Sisters Country Park, in - as any visitor would immediately realise - the Belle Tout Lighthouse (or, as it is often referred to in our family, the grey lighthouse) on Beachy Head. I love this stretch of the English coast and Cherry Radford captures it beautifully. It is spectacular and impressive; facing seaward the wind is often brutal and tear-inducing but turn landward and the undulating chalk uplands swell and dip deceptively gently. There is an unworldly, or perhaps other-worldly, feel to Beachy Head; those cliffs are beautiful, imposing and dangerous and the Samaritans signs and little crosses dotted on the headland never fail to make visitors pause and reflect. All of this is palpable in the novel and not only did I reread several times the description of Imogen’s walk from the delightfully named Cow Gap to the red and white striped sea-level lighthouse at an exceptionally low tide, discovering the pristine but usually inaccessible Falling Sands beach en route, I also dug out and pored over my very amateurish snap-shots of Beachy Head visits and have planned my next trip for the Easter break. I want to follow in Imogen’s footsteps and listen to her music as I do; we are offered the book’s music playlist and Spotify link so achieving the musical accompaniment will be child’s play.

A rich, life-affirming read. Felicitaciones.