The life of an islander is practically written in stone. Methodist, women disliking the water, men making their living off of it, children obeying their parents, families looking after the others. Sara Louise Bradshaw and her twin sister Caroline are born just like other island children... Caroline has a musical talent unsurpassed by any other, while Sara Louise spends her days going crabbing with her friend Call and aching to get out of her sister's long-reaching shadow of excellence. Watching as her sister takes her friends, parents love, and dreams for the future, Sara at last has to make her own decisions for the future. 263 pages, softcover.
Average Customer Rating:
(3 Reviews) 3
Rating Snapshot(3 reviews)
Customer Reviews for Jacob Have I Loved
Review 1 for Jacob Have I Loved
Date:July 3, 2007
This book was a disappointment to me. The description on the back of the book seemed a valuable one. One that would teach you to be confident in your own abilities, than always comparing yourself to others. That was exactly what, the main character, Sara Louise, did. She constantly compared and degraded herself to her beautiful and seemingly talented sister, Caroline. The self-pity drove a dark cloud throughout the book. Her grandmother played favorites between the sisters, completely insulting Sara Louise by saying, "Jacob have I loved and Esau have I hated." Her best friend deserts her and marries her sister. And finally, she is forced (by her own will) to leave the island on which she lives. Sara Louise ventures to the mountains and becomes a nurse. While there it is summarized in plain words for a few pages that Sara Louise married a farmer with a handful of children. A man she hardly knows. It isn't explained in the book very well if she truly loved the man. Sara continues to live in the mountains and that's the end of the book. But Sara never seems to get over her depressing comparison with her sister. This story has no emotional conclusion to reconciliation, forgiveness, and self-confidence whatsoever. It left the impression that you just have to live with the grief you got.