Hidden Latitudes

Three months after the publication of Jane Mendelsohn's I Was Amelia Earhart (Forecasts, Mar. 18) comes a second novel about the aviatrix's life after her disappearance in 1937. The similarities are striking. Each imagines Earhart marooned on a Pacific island; each tells her story at least partly in the first person; each presents a narrative composed of discrete vignettes set in lyrical prose. But while Mendelsohn's novel enchants, Anderson's--her first--disappoints. Here, Earhart's story is juxtaposed with the tale of two other characters, modern-day castaways on the island. As the novel opens, an elderly Earhart spots a sailboat approaching. Aboard are Lucy and Robin, who have left their comfortable life as schoolteachers to sail the world--and to try to save their troubled, 10-year marriage. After the boat crashes on a reef, the couple comes ashore; in subsequent days, Earhart watches them from afar and remembers other visitors to the island, such as Japanese soldiers during WWII, and an islander named Kuma, who refused to rescue her from exile. Earhart never reveals herself to Lucy and Robin, though they become aware of the presence of another. When they leave, the aviatrix feels regret, but at peace with her choice of solitude over companionship. Would that she had chosen solitude in this novel as well. Lucy and Robin come across as almost stereotypically selfish suburbanites whose constant bickering and problems (past infidelities, the question of having children) are presented with little depth. Anderson's prose is precise and sensual, with the island richly evoked in a fashion that, unfortunately, her characters are not. (July)