This would be a fantastic book to listen to in the car on the way to the beach for a week. Or while basking in the sun on your back deck. It’s a beach read… about the beach and its freedom and isolation and peace.
I admit I went into this book expecting something heavy. Instead I found an easygoing story about four women who get together for two weeks at the beach. The catch is, one woman is the new girl. The other three don’t let her forget it, and make her life miserable until personal tragedies bring them all together.
The Girls of August leaves many loose ends: we don’t know what happens with the health of two of the women, or the marriages of the other two. We never find out what happens to the island natives, or to the land that was supposedly left to one of the husbands. We don’t know if there’s a next vacation planned or a wedding.
I’m uncomfortable finishing a book without closure. I felt like I read a short story that was supposed to share a moral or a theme, but left the plot hanging.
However, The Girls of August has the wonderful redemptive quality of authentic friendships and introversion. These ladies were real with each other. They were snarky and sarcastic and bitter and loving and comforting and witty. They used the quiet of the beach to peel away their layers and discover themselves – not the women other people *expected * them to be, but who they really were. These women didn’t necessarily change, they just figured out who they were and who they were going to be from now on.