Although the stories are quite different, these two books both suffered a similar flaw and one that can often be quite fatal: the whiny narrator(s) phenomenon. While the stories themselves were compelling enough, I couldn't engage with the characters.
Still Point sounded so promising on paper. It told the story of a "great" romance between an arctic explorer and his wife, while also exploring the relationship and ennui of one of the explorer's descendants (it was this woman I found unbearable). It eventually gets to the point, but by that time I didn't really care.
The Last Woman explores a love triangle in the context of a First Nations land claim in Southern Ontario. I think that if the book had focused more on the land claim, it would have been a better book. Instead, I found myself saddled with three characters who lamented the past and all that they'd lost.
I can't fault the writing of either of these books. Both were filled with lovely prose. It is unfortunate then that both were undone by the depressing characters. They did elude to a mental fragility to help explain the female characters' despair, but this still did not help me enjoy the books any further.
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