From the first page to the last, Joan Anderson reveals herself to be a self-absorbed woman, rather than the self-sacrificing mother and wife she claims to be. Her attempts to "find" herself, such as frolicking with seals, taking a job in a fish shop, and befriending another self-obsessed older woman, are stereotypical "enlightening" activities -- in other words, the so-called talented writer can't rise above the pedantic. This memoir is an insult to hard-working women who "find" themselves in the midst of busy and demanding lives without the convenience of a seaside refuge. Joan Anderson would have done the literary world a service to stay in her cottage and keep her "unfinished" thoughts to herself.
From the first page to the last, Joan Anderson reveals herself to be a self-absorbed woman, rather than the self-sacrificing mother and wife she claims to be. Her attempts to "find" herself, such as frolicking with seals, taking a job in a fish shop, and befriending another self-obsessed older woman, are stereotypical "enlightening" activities -- in other words, the so-called talented writer can't rise above the pedantic. This memoir is an insult to hard-working women who "find" themselves in the midst of busy and demanding lives without the convenience of a seaside refuge. Joan Anderson would have done the literary world a service to stay in her cottage and keep her "unfinished" thoughts to herself.
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