The story of a family of lobstermen who skyrocket from poverty to wealth, a local writer obsessed with their rise, and the small-town secrets that bind them all together.It's spring in the tiny town of Damariscotta, a tourist haven on the coast of Maine known for its oysters and antiques. Andrew, a high school English teacher recently returned to the area, has brought his family to Ed and Steph Thatch’s riverside estate to attend an extravagant reception for the Amherst Women’s Lacrosse Team, where everyone’s wearing an Amherst shade of purple. Back when they were teenagers, Andrew never could have guessed that Ed—descended from a long line of lobstermen—would one day send his daughter to a place like Amherst, but clearly the years have been good to Ed. Andrew’s enjoying the party, if a little jealously—a part of him wishes he could afford for his own family even a fraction of what Ed’s provided for his.As Andrew wanders through the Thatches’ house, he stumbles upon a police file he’s not supposed to see. In the file are pictures of a burned-out sedan: a blackened trunk, a torched body. Andrew's confusion and envy turn to horror. And when the police arrive an hour later, the true story of the Thatches—a family Andrew thought he understood—begins.A propulsive drama that cares as deeply about its characters as it does about the crimes they commit, The Midcoast explores the machinations of privilege, the dark recesses of the American dream, and the lies we tell as we try, at all costs, to achieve it.
This was interesting in that it was written as if it were nonfiction and written in first person as if from a journalist actually writing a book about these events. I was engrossed by this family but not the author. I couldn't have cared less about the (fictional) author, which was good because he didn't write much about himself instead of obsessed with the Thatch family. There was a lot of build up but then it seemed to fizzle into nothing . . . the end just came up and I found myself thinking, why do I care? I will read more from this author because I was intrigued by the format and it was well written.
Back when I lived out of state, people always used to get excited when they found out where I was from. They didn't meet all that many Mainers—I was like a moose descended from a log cabin, wandering their backyard, eating their shrimp—and wondered if I was from anywhere near the town where they'd gone to summer camp or cruised in their custom sloop.
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