solanne's Reviews > The Last True Poets of the Sea

this book smells of hot summer nights and saltwater tides, its scent clinging to me long after I turned the last page

—☆—

There’s a special kind of ache in my heart reserved for stories that snag on family, stories that map out relationships in all their bruising brilliance. Reading this felt a little as if someone had pried open my heart and said oh. This. This I understand.

Violet is determined to see herself disappear after her brother’s suicide attempt. Once the center of attention in every room, she now craves nothing but invisibility, shearing off her hair, concealing herself behind baggy clothing, forcing herself to shrink to the size of a pinprick until no longer has the space to breathe. She is then sent to Lyric, a seaside town tangled up in her family’s history, and begins her search for her ancestor’s lost shipwreck, desperate to make amends with her past in a time when the future seems so uncertain.

Name one time in recorded history that I haven't fallen prey to the sweet lull of the ocean or the enigmatic atmosphere shrouding old familial secrets. Threads of mystery thrum through this story’s core, a dazzling light tangled up in all the messiness, the heartache, the sorrow, tugging the characters close. And the writing? God, I couldn't do it justice if I tried. The best way I can think to describe it would be ‘poetic’, rather in an understated, hard-hitting manner. Frankly, I think it’s the kind of thing you may just have to experience for yourself:

"There is some strange feeling in the pit of her stomach — what is that? Longing? This feeling is like: nostalgia for something that didn't happen. No — nostalgia for something that could've happened."

What really makes this book marvellous though is the characters. Watching Violet grapple with her self-loathing is so unbearably lonely. Her sadness is deep enough to swallow you whole, a longing for her brother, for her previous ease, for wholeness. The Last True Poets of the Sea touched some of the most vulnerable parts of my heart — the weight of isolation and wretched self-hatred inescapable, but so, the fear that, no matter how hard you try, you can never be enough.

But I think that ultimately, just as Violet comes to learn, sorrow and fear do not exclude strength. Because this isn’t a story solely confined to sadness; perhaps it is a story sculpted by loss and hurt, but, above all else, its very foundation has been built of love, resolute enough to withstand the most violent of wrecks. In the end, this is a story about connection. Violet’s relationship with her family is complicated, because people are complicated. Messy situations don't always have a clear-cut answer. And that’s okay.

Perhaps my very favourite thing about The Last True Poets of the Sea is the way in which Violet and Sam’s — Violet’s brother — relationship is portrayed. While neither are mentioned on-page to have a diagnosis, it’s heavily implied that Sam is autistic and that Violet wrestles with BPD. The premise had made me initially hesitant to pick up the book; I am so sick and fucking tired of side characters’ mental illnesses or disorders — be it those of loved ones or strangers — being used as plot points to bolster a main character’s arc. But while Sam’ suicide attempt may be what led to the family’s fallout, his story is treated with just as much care and dignity as Violet’s.

To be honest, a lot of the sibling’s dynamic hit really close to home which I think is why I found their interactions to be so poignant. They are both hurting, missing the other’s familiarity and a time when things weren’t so complicated. But the two learn to bridge the chasm between them, even though it requires vulnerability they aren’t quite comfortable offering up. When I tell you I sobbed I mean it in the truest sense possible.

The friendships found throughout this novel were equally exquisite. I adored following the friend group as they searched for the wreck, each in pursuit of comfort and healing, each wholly imperfect. Not to mention the sapphic chemistry. Liv and Violet’s carefully explored relationship was oh so sweet in its complexity. You all know I’m a sucker for yearning but, wow. Their romance was absolutely unparalleled. It was big enough to shape the very world.

"Liv pulled away and tectonic plates moved beneath us; under miles of ocean, the seafloor split."

If there is just one thing I took from this book, it would be this: we make up our own futures, each choice a nearly imperceptible thread creating the patchwork that is our lives. And, fuck, it isn’t always easy. But when it isn’t, take it one day at a time. And if you can’t fathom that, try an hour, a single moment. If you can’t be good, learn to embrace ‘okay’, at least for now. Growing pains hurt, but therein lies their essentiality. Take in the brilliant fiascos and the imperfect gestures and the fuckups alongside everything else. Because isn’t that exactly what life is about? As the author so aptly writes:

"No one thing could fix us, because no one thing was wrong. The fixing would be in keeping going, in trying. Survival was its own quest: we needed to choose to survive over and over again. We had to wash up on shore, and we had to choose to keep washing up every single day. We had to let the survival accrue, pebble after pebble, building a beach from a million tiny moments until suddenly we stopped, looked around, and thought on a Saturday in Maine, I'm glad we're here."

> 5 stars

— representation: bisexual MC, sapphic LI, neurodiverse side character (unspecified)
— content warnings: suicide, disordered eating, loss of loved one, panic attacks, underage use of drugs/alcohol