CANDLE ISLAND

In Wolk’s latest, a self-contained girl finds companionship in one of the most notoriously unfriendly of places: a Maine island.

Twelve-year-old Lucretia and her mother, both artists, have moved to fictional Candle Island for the isolation; grieving the recent loss of Lucretia’s father and with a big secret to keep, they need to be where, as her mother says, “they’ll let us be who we are.” Lucretia soon draws the ire of prickly Murdock and the tentative friendship of Bastian, her cousin, two townies with secrets of their own. Among the island’s summer people are a nosy art critic and three young sociopaths, who all complicate life for Lucretia and her mother, though in very different ways. At a sentence level, this work glows. Lucretia hears sounds as colors (although synesthesia goes unmentioned), layering them onto her narration the way she applies her oils to canvas. Wolk’s characterization and plotting, however, waver. The children too often speak with a formality that’s not attributable to the late 1960s / early ’70s setting, and Lucretia’s self-possession frequently makes her feel far older than 12. The tense cultural backdrop would be an effective one for the exploration of Wolk’s themes were it not for the three summer kids’ flagrant evil, which leaches the story of its subtlety. Most characters present white.

The exquisite writing can’t compensate for the story’s overwrought elements.