From the author of Drowning Ruth, a haunting, atmospheric novel set at the closing of the frontier about a young wife who moves to a far-flung and forbidding lighthouse where she uncovers a life-changing secret.
In 1898, a woman forsakes the comfort of home and family for a love that takes her to a remote lighthouse on the wild coast of California. What she finds at the edge of the earth, hidden between the sea and the fog, will change her life irrevocably.
Trudy, who can argue Kant over dinner and play a respectable portion of Mozart’s Serenade in G major, has been raised to marry her childhood friend and assume a life of bourgeois comfort in Milwaukee. She knows she should be pleased, but she’s restless instead, yearning for something she lacks even the vocabulary to articulate. When she falls in love with enigmatic and ambitious Oskar, she believes she’s found her escape from the banality of her preordained life.
But escape turns out to be more fraught than Trudy had imagined. Alienated from family and friends, the couple moves across the country to take a job at a lighthouse at Point Lucia, California—an unnervingly isolated outcropping, trapped between the ocean and hundreds of miles of inaccessible wilderness. There they meet the light station’s only inhabitants—the formidable and guarded Crawleys. In this unfamiliar place, Trudy will find that nothing is as she might have predicted, especially after she discovers what hides among the rocks.
Gorgeously detailed, swiftly paced, and anchored in the dramatic geography of the remote and eternally mesmerizing Big Sur, The Edge of the Earth is a magical story of secrets and self-transformation, ruses and rebirths. Christina Schwarz, celebrated for her rich evocation of place and vivid, unpredictable characters, has spun another haunting and unforgettable tale.
|Product dimensions:||6.20(w) x 9.10(h) x 1.20(d)|
About the Author
Christina Schwarz is the author of five novels, including The Edge of the Earth and the Oprah Book Club selection Drowning Ruth. Born and raised in rural Wisconsin, she lives in southern California.
Read an Excerpt
Edge of the Earth
MY PARENTS HAD laid out a lovely future for me in Milwaukee with tender care, as if they were smoothing the white coverlet over my rosewood bed. When I was graduated from the Milwaukee College for Females, I was to marry Ernst Dettweiler. Our wedding had been planned, mostly as a joke, while our mothers aired us as infants in Juneau Park. But why not? Ernst was a sweet, straightforward boy who met life’s pleasures head-on and made clear that he believed I was among them. He was as dear to me as sunshine. As my mother said fondly, “You know what you’re getting with Ernst.”
We were to live on one of the newer streets west of downtown. Although a wedding date had not been set—indeed, Ernst had not yet formally proposed—my father and Uncle Dettweiler had looked at two or three possible houses, and my mother had selected the peonies she intended to transplant to my yard and the furnishings from her own house that would be mine. Of course, we young people were expected to have ideas of our own. Within certain boundaries, our parents were willing, even eager, to indulge us.
Despite all of this—or perhaps because of it?—I’d been vaguely but persistently discontent, as if a bit of straw had lodged itself in some unreachable spot under my clothing. Back in early September, that glowing time that promises such riches for the academic months ahead, our college president had given a speech in Menomonee Hall, exhorting us girls to be of service in the world. She’d drawn a loose but definite connection between a graceful translation of Ovid and a young woman’s ability to contribute to the uplifting of mankind. But the more I’d thought about it, the less convinced I was of that connection, or at least of my ability to make it in the ways others saw fit. President McAdams had stressed the contribution of home management to the good of society. She’d pointed to the teaching of home economics, the practice of philanthropy, and the creation of literature as suitable fields in which the college-educated woman might perform service. And there was Florence Nightingale to provide an example of more elevated ambition. But I knew I was no Miss Nightingale.
Miss Dodson, my teacher of home nursing and biology, had held me back after class one day. I’d assumed I was to be chastised for bandaging my friend Lucy’s head so carelessly, but Miss Dodson had pressed me to consider teaching.
“I believe it’s a good thing,” she’d said, unscrewing the limbs from the torso of her mannequin, “for a young woman to make her own way for a year or two before she attaches herself to a man.”
I admired Miss Dodson, with her bright brown eyes and uncompromising nose. She excited in her students—in me, at least—a sense of wonder at the functions of living things even as she exposed their secrets. She’d been afflicted with polio as a child and so walked with a bit of a hitch that seemed to keep time for her as she paced the front of the classroom, urging us to observe: “You must look, girls! Never assume; always examine!” While in everyday conversation she was rather reserved and dry, she had been known to rhapsodize over such things as “the clever lichen, which thrives where other plants would instantly wither.” We giggled, but only the most aloof among us could resist being caught up in her enthusiasm for and devotion to her subject. At her suggestion, I’d imagined myself presiding over my own classroom in a crisp white waist and black skirt, confidently sketching a heart and its attendant arteries with colored chalk on the blackboard.
“Why did you become a teacher?” I’d asked boldly.
Miss Dodson looked slightly startled. She was used, I think, to directing others, not to considering her own feelings.
“I suppose it’s because I liked school. It gave me license to live in my mind.” She gave a small, rueful laugh. “That was a far more interesting place than any other I seemed likely to have access to. Natural history obviously interests you,” she went on, setting the conversation back on terms more comfortable to her.
I did like the way that science, like Latin, seemed to make sense of the world (whereas history and literature, to my mind, were apt to muddle it). When we studied the plant and animal kingdoms, Miss Dodson was always calling our attention to examples of symmetry and efficiency and cooperation. And I dearly loved classification, the neat way in which the most unusual species had features it shared with others and thus could be grouped into a genus, which in turn could be grouped into a family and so on, until the whole puzzle of life, theoretically, anyway, could be clearly mapped.
Perhaps I would never attach myself to a man, I’d pronounced boldly, relaying Miss Dodson’s advice to Lucy.
“You mean like Miss Gregor?” Lucy’s eyes were wide.
I laughed. “Really, you don’t think much of me. Miss Gregor? What about Miss Dodson?”
“Oh, Miss Dodson. Yes, well, she’s a special case, isn’t she? She manages to put all of her passion into her work. Yes, I do admire that. But Trudy.” She’d laid her hand earnestly on my arm. “Don’t you think that she’s a little sharp? She reminds me of one of those crabs that backs itself into a snail shell.”
“And her eyes and forehead bulge so.”
Lucy laughed. “But seriously, I don’t want you to become like Miss Dodson, however much we admire her. That’s not for you, is it? Don’t forget that when you marry Ernst and I marry Charles, we’re going to live next door and run in and out of the back door of each other’s houses.”
The thought of remaining in those schoolrooms or ones like them, passing on what I’d learned to other girls so they could pass it along in turn, made me as weary as all the rest. As a teacher, I feared, I would be making myself into a link in the very chain that was constricting me, holding me back from a future that seemed to shimmer just beyond my ability to perceive it.
What had I wanted? I’d been sure of only thing: I wanted something that I did not know. Well, I’d gotten it.
What People are Saying About This
"The Edge of the Earth invites us into the lives of a young married couple in the late nineteenth century drawn to a lighthouse above the forbidding cliffs of Point Lucia, California – an isolated spot filled with marine life that few have seen before and, perhaps, a mermaid. But there are human secrets too - and as you learn what they are, you will almost hear the crashing waves. Inhale deeply – you are there, caught in the roiling energy of passion, regret, discovery – and, always, the sea. A gripping story.
"From the start, The Edge of the Earth enticed me into its strange and isolated world – the jagged-rocked landscape around a California lighthouse over a hundred years ago. The details of time and place are vivid, yet the dilemmas of Trudy’s new marriage certainly transcend this beautiful novel’s dreamlike setting. And Schwarz is a masterful storyteller: perfect pacing, secrets and suspense, and characters who aren’t what they seem kept me entranced as the pages turned. If you want a story to envelop you, this is it.
"Christina Schwarz's gift of detail makes the characters leap off the page and her expert handling of suspense allows for a cliffhanger ending that you won't see coming. I loved this book!
Reading Group Guide
This reading group guide for The Edge of the Earth includes discussion questions and ideas for enhancing your book club. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.
Topics & Questions for Discussion
1. Consider the novel's title—besides serving as a description of Point Lucia, what other meanings could it have? What does being at “the edge of the earth” mean for these characters?
2. On pg. 35, Oskar says, "For a curious person, the world is full of opportunities." As a group, discuss the difference between curiosity and ambition, particularly in the context of Oskar's character. Is Oskar ultimately curious, or is he ambitious?
3. How does Schwarz create tension and atmosphere within the narrative?
4. Early in the novel, Trudy remarks, "I was a goose plumped for others' consumption." (p. 40). What does she mean by this? What has changed for Trudy by p. 220, when she compares herself to Helen: “…like me, she'd been separated from her people and was having to make her life as best as she could at the edge of the earth." Is this a fair comparison? Take into account each woman's degree of agency as you discuss this.
5. Discuss the significance of material objects—especially personal effects—within the novel. What do the things that each character treasures reveal about them? What do you think the book is saying about ownership and identity, materiality and corporeality?
6. Turn to p. 117, where Trudy and the children are dissecting the sea urchin, and discuss the larger meaning behind this scene. How is this also a commentary on the many ways of seeing? Can you find another instance in the novel where Trudy’s perspective on something she’s never questioned suddenly switches?
7. How are masculinity and femininity represented in the novel? How are the traditional roles of men and women either upheld or subverted as the story progresses?
8. In what ways is illumination – light and dark, sight and blindness – a theme within the novel?
9. As a group, read aloud the conversation between Trudy, Oskar, and Mr. and Mrs. Hatch, when they observe the woman carrying her child on her back through the train window (p. 130-132). Whose point of view did you most identify with in this scene?
10. Examine the instances in the text where Oskar and Archie speak of Helen, and compare them to the moments when Euphemia and Trudy do the same. How does both the content, and the tone of what they’re saying differ?
11. On p. 242, Oskar says to Trudy, "Don't you care whether people know that these Indians existed on this earth?" In regards to Helen, do you think Oskar believes he is working for a greater purpose—and if so, does this justify his treatment of her?
12. Of which character did your opinion evolve most dramatically over the course of the novel? How and why did this occur?
13. In what ways could this novel be considered a love story?
Enhance Your Book Club
1. As a group, read Schwarz's first novel, Drowning Ruth. Consider how the setting of each novel shapes the events of the narrative. What role does a sense of isolation end up playing in the main characters’ psyches, in each novel?
2. The fictional Point Lucia is based on Big Sur, CA. As a group, research the history of this lighthouse. You might begin by visiting: http://www.bigsurcalifornia.org/pointsur.htm.
3. Oskar defends removing Helen's objects from her cave by saying, "I'm not stealing them. I'm studying them.” Trudy responds, "That distinction can mean nothing to Helen." Whose point of view resonated more with you? Could Trudy’s perspective have other applications? Consider zoos, or museums that hold artifacts that are a very long way from where they were originally located/discovered (an Egyptian temple in the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art, or the Rosetta Stone in the British Museum). Have the objects or creatures in these spaces been stolen, or are they being studied? Consider the extent to which power dynamics or perceived cultural inferiority/superiority might play in your answer (for example, when Helen takes objects from the lighthouse, did it occur to you that she might be "studying" them?).
4. The classic children’s novel, The Island of the Blue Dolphins, also features an enigmatic Native American woman, and is based on the true story of Juana Maria (or “The Lone Woman of San Nicolas”), who lived alone on an island off the coast of California between 1835-1853. To learn more about her, and the recent discovery of the cave that may have been her home, go to: http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-lone-woman-cave-20121027,0,1564818.story.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Trudy has been raised to marry her childhood sweetheart and make her home in Milwaukee but she yearns for a more adventurous life and she falls in love with Oskar. He plans to travel far away from the Midwest and she believes she has found an escape to her preordained life. But she never imagined a life like this. Alienated from friends and family the couple moves to Point Lucia, California. A desolate outcropping between the ocean and inaccessible wilderness. Oskar is the new assistant lighthouse keeper and the only other inhabitants of the area are the Crawleys who are very set in their ways. Trudy will find that nothing is as she might have predicted, especially as she discovers what hides among the rocks. Schwarz is a truly gifted storyteller. Her descriptive style of writing gives this poignant story a life that was pure pleasure to read. She has created rich and realistic characters and placed them in an extraordinary place. Imagine days filled with talking with 4 other adults and 4 children for months and months on end. The tender only brings supplies every few months. Trudy goes from a life where practically everything was done for her to taking care of herself and her husband and even teaching the children. Oskar is a stubborn, selfish man. He has dreams for a great invention but he loses interest before any come to fruition. Euphemia Crawley is a woman hardened by her isolated life. She tries to keep rein on 4 wild, rambunctious children who have frequent “mermaid sightings”. The story takes some unexpected turns and this reader was surprised by the ending. I enjoyed The Edge of the Earth. It is a story that will stick with you.
In The Edge of the Earth, Christina Schwarz once again creates strong female characters who triumph in spite of difficult circumstances. Part mystery, part historical fiction, part family, drama, the story of Trudy's odyssey to a lighthouse literally on the edge of the earth is a fascinating and satisfying story with a wonderful twist at the end. Schwarz's prose beautifully evokes the wildness of the California coast and the yearnings of her characters, young and old. I found it hard to put down this book.