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Book Review: The divine is in the details of Bailey Island memoir

By NANCY GRAPE

Some years ago, Janet Freeman Baribeau's then-10-year-old granddaughter, Jessika Hyde, wrote to her wanting to know more about her early life and the family history to which they both belonged.

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"A BAILEY ISLAND GIRL REMEMBERS." By Janet Freeman Baribeau. Self-published through Will-Dale Press. 275 pages. $24.95.

"That was the beginning of my quest," says Baribeau, who lives in Brunswick. "A Bailey Island Girl Remembers" is the result.

Baribeau's creation, which she tells us "has been a relaxed and comfortable venture for this 72-year-old author trying to self-publish her first book," offers a rich mix of family characters and events that are sure to be treasured by those who share that history.

At the same time, when a family history is offered to a wider general readership, choosing which details and stories to include and which to leave out takes on a good deal of importance. As more people try their hand at family histories and memoirs, it's part of the writing process that is worth looking at more closely.

Selection gives shape and movement to the flow of information. When readers are family members, a name alone can trigger shared memories. A place can set the stage for dramatic action. Readers have their own perceptions to draw upon.

But when readers are strangers, an author can no longer assume they have memories and mental images that anchor them to the story being told. That is the point when selecting pertinent, insightful details becomes critically important

Such selection is not always used to advantage in "A Bailey Island Girl Remembers." The architecture of the book assumes readers among the broad public have knowledge they may not have. Take, for instance, the famous Cribstone Bridge in Will's Gut that since 1927 has bridged the distance between Orrs and Bailey Island. Many Mainers know of it, but they do not necessarily know much about it.

Baribeau refers to the bridge in sharing her memories. But it is not until page 263 that she tells us the granite structure "is the only bridge of its kind" and holds coveted national historic landmark status.

Left out altogether is any detailed information about the bridge's unique design, its dependence on gravity and its ability to withstand the flow of tides through massive granite slabs.

A warmer and more personal tone lends power to Baribeau's account of blueberrying on Bailey Island in the late summertime in an area the kids called Blueberry Hill. The selection of details here reinforces the experience.

"When the blueberries were plentiful we could pick as many as we wanted there for most of the season," she writes. "We brought home some for our mothers to use for baking but sold most of what we picked to the summer people and the local restaurants for 50 cents a quart. The restaurants usually took all we could pick and were happy to get them for their blueberry buckles, cobblers, muffins and pies."

If that doesn't send a warm summer flush up your face, you've never launched -- however briefly -- a child-sized, roadside blueberry business in Maine in the summertime. My cousins and I used to do it, with the usual caveat: However many blueberries you end up with for sale have to add up to more than you've eaten while picking that day.

"Small and wormy" apples, cats "in the corners and on the big homemade braided rug in the middle of the kitchen floor," the sweet smell of a "heifer and a couple of cows" in a barn and the ever-present salt air and water -- all are part of the sense memories on Bailey Island. Baribeau's book records them. And they are evocative details well worth recording.

A family history is a treasure, and Baribeau has done her family a wonderful service. She has also created a book that will be treasured by many who share her love for Bailey Island, its everyday life and its endurance through triumph and tragedy. 

Nancy Grape is a freelance writer.