He gripped each thought like the rung of a ladder by which to haul himself back to the knowable back to this life.’

Getting the oil in, keeping the cogs moving smoothly, topping up the mercury to let the light glide. To the brass fittings which had to be polished, the glass which had to be cleaned – first the outer glass of the lantern, then the prisms themselves. ‘He raised the binoculars and scoured the island for more signs of life: he needed to see the goats, the sheep to count them. You don’t think ahead in years or months: you think about this hour, and maybe the next. That was the only thing that had got him through four years of blood and madness: know exactly where your gun is when you doze for ten minutes in your dugout always check your gas mask see that your men have understood their orders to the letter. ‘He must turn to something solid, because if he didn’t, who knew where his mind or his soul could blow away to, like a balloon without ballast. He observes the tiny details of life on the island.’Īnd there’s this wonderful passage about his first night alone on the square-mile-sized island: He knows some keepers who make a point of singing, just like turning over an engine to make sure it still works. Tom can go for months and not hear his own voice. Life doesn’t get more solitary than this: To that end, he takes a posting as a lighthouse keeper on Janus Rock, 100 miles off the south-western coast of Australia. He seeks peace through a life of solitude. Though physically unmarked, he is tortured by his memories and suffering from survivor’s guilt.

The story begins in 1918, with young WWI veteran Tom Sherbourne recently returned to his native Australia after serving in the trenches in France. Heartbreaking and beautiful, ML Stedman’s The Light Between Oceans is one of those perfectly pitched, sweeping period novels you only come across every so often.

The light between oceans author