The Seagulls Woke Me

"It's gone, but I knew it when I had it, when the island was my home, and every morning the seagulls woke me."

The Seagulls Woke Me (by Mary Stolz, published in 1951) is easily one of my favorite books. (I suspect I will be saying, "my favorite book" all month long so you may have to get used to it.)

I discovered it when I was in very early adolescence. Mine is a beautiful blue hardcover with a cute little seaside village and little white seagulls, done in the style of Matisse, flying across the top. I loved it from the moment I first read it, and I've carried it with me from my childhood to now. I still re-read it every couple of years, usually take it with me on any trip to the beach. 

It's the story of Jean. A quiet, sixteen year old high school misfit, who had given up on having any social life. Her favorite thing to do with her time, when not at school, was to stay home and read books. (Yes, there may be a few similarities between the two of us/)

Her mother, while keeping her in long, braided hair, dressed in handmade clothes, pushed her to be more social at school. A classic introvert, she was an outcast. A boy invited her to a school dance. Jean only wanted to go to make her mother happy. Her mother happily went shopping with her for a dress. Jean, horribly uncomfortable with the idea of shopping, accepts the first dress she tries on. A horrid taupe-colored creation, that was hideous. It turned out the boy was just as awkward and odd as she, and he left her to fend for herself. She walked home, giving up on the night entirely.

Soon after, her parents received a letter from her aunt and uncle, inviting her to come stay with them at their Maine inn over the summer. They offered her room and board if she would help around the place. Jean had never been there. She wasn't even told about the letter until after the disastrous experience at the school dance. Her father convinced her mother to let her go. Her mother still viewed her as a child, treated her as one; but her father knew she needed to be allowed to grow up.

She was tossed onto a train, her bags meticulously packed by her worried mother, with many stiffly pressed dresses, and brand new, starched “blue jeans.”

What greeted Jean at the little New England island was a completely different world. She was used to hiding in her room, staying away from people. The environment at the inn was one of blusterous productivity. There was a group of five college aged kids who worked for her aunt and uncle, mostly taking care of the guest meals, and little odd jobs around the place. 

At first Jean was very hesitant, afraid to dip her toes in the water. Her first night witnessing the whole group clean up after dinner is a lovely scene. All of them are cracking jokes, laughing, and working as a well-designed team. She leaned back against the wall and absorbed the sight, relishing in its warmth. Max, who had wiggled out of dish washing duty, planted himself on a chair, and played his accordion. She picked up a towel and helped dry the dishes. 

I won't share all of Jean's stories, because I want you to read this book. But I will share a few.

There was a dog who loved to rock in the rocking chair on the front porch, serenely looking across the harbor. He would jump off the porch and glide away if anyone happened to catch him; it was as if part of the joy for him was doing it in secret. 

Jean went out in the crab boat with her uncle, into the ominous fog of the predawn hours. Warmed by a thermos of hot clam chowder, and a borrowed sweater, she learned how to pull up the crab traps and reset them.

Jean was accepted in the group without stipulation; and, most importantly, she learned to accept being accepted. She fell in love with the nerdy, argyle-sock-wearing, young man named Max.

What I love most about the story is Jean's transformation. She discovered herself. No, she created herself, over that summer. The girl who returned was not the same person her parents had shipped off to Maine. She had cut off her hair into a much more hip and stylish bob. She was sunburned and windblown. Her jeans were well-worn and dirty. She was a bright and shining light among her new friends. They had difficult time recognizing their daughter. She was no longer a stranger to herself, she grew into who she was supposed to be.

This is one of those books that I wish had never ended. I always wished I knew what happened to the characters. Where did Jean end up? With Max? What happened when she went back to school?

If I were to write an epilogue, I'd put her right back at that little coastal inn, with her love Max, and the rocking chair dog.

My copy of The Seagulls Woke Me, May 14, 2011, Beaufort, North Carolina, USA

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series.