Customer Reviews

Dark Harbor: Building House and Home on an Enchanted Island

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I'm not sure what the reviewer from Marblehead's beef with Mehta's book is. It seems unfair to knock "Dark Harbor" just because it doesn't portray the stereotypical "Down East" Maine preciousness he or she holds as inviolate.

In fact, to think Mehta's book is or should be solely about rocky beaches and pine trees and lobster boats is missing the larger and much more subtle and poignant points this memoir seeks to make. I found it fascinating to read Mehta's account of building a dream home in spite of his blindness. Think of the central ironies at play here--a blind man obsessed with visual and spatial architectural details he cannot detect or enjoy the same way sighted people can, and yet driven to build a state-of-the-art home for the enjoyment of those around him. It is at once an act of tremendous generosity, considerable hubris, and deep-seated insecurity and sensitivity to the opinion and approval of others.

Mehta is not the first writer to describe his descent into a house-building money pit, but he is no doubt the first to describe the experience from this unique perspective. This material is rich with psychological complexity, as well as humor and wit, and Mehta invites us along on his bricks-and-mortar journey of self-discovery. If that trip takes us from Islesboro to Manhattan to his ancestral home in India, or from the isolation of his blindess to the social swirl of New York literati and high society, so much the better. Those intertwining worlds (the "Continents of Exile" after which he named his autobiographical series) only make for more fascinating reading. And his clear and lucid prose style--an elegant, charmingly antiquated type of writing one rarely finds published anymore--enhances the experience. There is much to enjoy and savor in this book.

Forget the other Great Autobiographies like Paustowsky and Proust. Ved Mehta and his Continents of exile is far better then anything in this field of writing. In very elegant, humorous English he gives you the story of his life, and the angle differs a bit each time. That counts for the disappointed readers that expect a book about The New Yorker or A House On A Maine Island. What you get is the fascinating story of a blind Indian man that grew up in India, came to America, went to England and back to America, and combines all these influences and continents with humor and an intelligent attitude.
A great series and another great book.

Why should you read a book about building a house? Aren't millions of them built in the US every year? What's special about them?

Well, the author (who is building the house) is blind for one. Add to it the fact that, he couldn't afford it when he started building. And then he was building it on a remote island in Maine. If you thought that this is a recipe for disaster, you are correct. But he seems to persevere through the whole thing and builds a fabulous house in the end.

Two of the reviewers (I couldn't help notice both are from New England) seem to think that the book is about the beauty of Maine. And therefore conclude that the book is not a good book. So what is the book about? .. it is about a blind mans life, his aspirations and desperations; about how a house project always costs much more than is budgeted; about how a house is a never ending project; about architecture; and of course about the beauty of an island in Maine (but not just that).

All in all a very interesting read.

This book - please see Editorial Reviews for some descriptions of it - is worth reading for its author's... well, it's condescending to call it bravery, so let's just call it dogged determination, Or something. Though it is indeed bravery. Also faithfulness. Mehta has been pursuing his reportage of his crosswired life for three decades (and is always an eminently seeable reporter of what he reports), and what he writes here - according to his publisher, "Dark Harbor" is the second to last of his Continents of Exiles series of personal histories - suggests many, many thoughts. And not just about building a house. The back-and-forth between here (New York City, Arkansas, California, this island off the coast of Maine, same difference) and a place like Mehta's original India (he came here when he was only fifteen!) - well, there's much to be seen and newly understood in this book. He tells the story in a supremely intelligent and loving manner and his own supremely crosswired way (also with much humor). There is in fact light in Dark Harbor, and he helps us see it. (Especially in conjunction with the previous "All For Love." Though "Ledge Between Two Streams" too.)

Mr Mehta has a gift for writing much about nothing. To put it simply, the reader is left feeling like his psychotherapist.

Here is a man who's building a house on the coast of Maine yet wants the walls to be utterly soundproof--to lock out the slurping and crashing of the coastal waters. Sheetrock is a recurring demon that plagues his adult life. Throughout the book, Mr Mehta gives up and decides to sell off his investment. In fact, this theme is so frequent, you begin to wonder if he wrote the book to simply help market the house.

While the book holds some undoubtedly poignant memories for Mr Mehta; for the reader, it lacks any sense of coastal Maine. There is no feel of wind or fog; there is no smell of salty pine; and you certainly don't hear the crunch of sticks and rocks beneath your feet. You spend most of the book stifling in his New York apartment while he argues with himself, his architect, and his builder.

Mr Mehta has a gift for writing much about nothing. To put it simply, the reader is left feeling like his psychotherapist.

Here is a man who's building a house on the coast of Maine yet wants the walls to be utterly soundproof--to lock out the slurping and crashing of the coastal waters. Sheetrock is a recurring demon that plagues his adult life. Throughout the book, Mr Mehta gives up and decides to sell off his investment. In fact, this theme is so frequent, you begin to wonder if he wrote the book to simply help market the house.

While the book holds some undoubtedly poignant memories for Mr Mehta; for the reader, it lacks any sense of coastal Maine. There is no feel of wind or fog; there is no smell of salty pine; and you certainly don't hear the crunch of sticks and rocks beneath your feet. You spend most of the book stifling in his New York apartment while he argues with himself, his architect, and his builder.

I found this book to be tedious and far too concerned with the parochial, and frankly dull, details of Mr. Mehta's feelings about having a house built on an island off the coast of Maine. Not enough about Maine. Too much about Mehta. Too bad.