Preoccupied with grief, The Lighthouse is a supernatural romantic mystery told in a clear and careful manner. Christopher Parker’s debut novel, inspired by a walk on Takapuna beach, is set in a small town in Oregon dominated by a haunted lighthouse.

Eighteen-year-old college student Amy Tucker and her workaholic father Kevin, a detective in the Oregon State Police, struggle with the loss of their mother and wife Helen, alienating each other as they attempt to make sense of life without her. Desperate to haul Amy out of her torpor, Kevin plans a work trip to coastal Seabrook, two hours north of their home in Portland.

After a life-threatening incident, Amy meets Ryan, also grappling with loss. The pair are drawn to each other and as their relationship develops, strange happenings swirl around them, threatening their new-found connection. Seabrook seems on the edge of collapse.

Each character’s voice is distinct and compelling; the author uses the three viewpoints in the novel deftly to maintain tension. Amy is the focus, a teenager out of control and mired in a deep and complex grief, but both Ryan and Kevin have their own preoccupations, their own rich and problematic lives separate from hers. It’s impossible not to feel empathy for Kevin, thrust into the spotlight as sole parent of a grieving teenager, an uncomfortable position for one who has deliberately stepped away from parenthood in the past.

The book tugs the reader along with clever twists and deceptively tricky plotting. To describe the plot further would give away spoilers but throughout, the book is gripping and you’re compelled to read on and discover what happens next. Only one section of the novel feels predictable, the development of Amy and Ryan’s teenage love, which happens during the space of one day and has an air of inevitability.

Heavy emotion is handled with sensitivity. The novel isn’t explicit or violent and would be appropriate for teenagers as it explores themes from the point of view of an 18-year-old. The book displays with care Amy’s preoccupation with her own overwhelming emotion and the lack of capacity she has for other people.

The reader is able to rely on the trustworthiness of the characters throughout the book; they’re good people, thrust into circumstances beyond their control, and behave according to their moral code. Very little messiness or darkness is observed in the characters, which seems deliberate; the way fate and luck affect lives in a theme explored in depth as the novel progresses.

At times the novel relies heavily on explanatory dialogue which is occasionally repetitive. Otherwise, the writing is assured and smooth, the setting capably described while also seeding the unease that runs through Seabrook. When the book takes one of its most surprising turns, it’s possible to look back and see the clues littered through the preceding chapters.

It’s satisfying as a reader to see the characters grow and change as the novel progresses. Amy’s transformation from grief-stricken teenager unable to move forward happens gradually, and as the plot progresses, she has to rely on her own instincts and make choices that challenge her. The emotional arc is strong and clear, not forgotten in the twists and turns of an ambitious story.

This novel meticulously examines grief and the reverberations it has through lives and puts the spotlight on the steps needed to move through and past the immobilising quagmire of loss. Despite the desperate emotional and adventurous drama in the novel, Parker’s deft handling of his characters allows each a satisfying ending with plenty of hope for the future.

Reviewed by Erica Stretton