This book is narrated by a solitary woman living in an isolated fishing village on the coast of Normandy. She is employed to count and catalogue bird populations by a nature organization, and appears to be recovering from the grief of a great loss. She lives in a house by the water shared with Raphael an artist and his sister Morgan.

One day a stranger shows up in town. He is Lambert, and is the owner of a decrepit cottage he intends to sell. Years previously, Lambert's mother, father, and younger brother were drowned in a boating accident. He suspects that it may have been more than an accident, and believes that Theo, the lighthouse keeper may have turned off the lights in the lighthouse, thus leading to the accident.

Over the next several weeks/months, the narrator and Lambert begin to form a relationship, and facts about the past and many of the villagers come to light. There is a great sense of place in the book, with bountiful and varied descriptions of the sea, the cliffs and the birds. But the book is also vague, dreamy and wandering, and doesn't read very quickly. It was a major bestseller in France when it was published. I liked it, but it was not a particularly memorable read for me.

3 stars ( )

La Hague... Ici on dit que le vent est parfois tellement fort qu'il arrache les ailes des papillons. Sur ce bout du monde en pointe du Cotentin vit une poignée d'hommes.
C'est sur cette terre âpre que la narratrice est venue se réfugier depuis l'automne. Employée par le Centre ornithologique, elle arpente les landes, observe les falaises et leurs oiseaux migrateurs.
La première fois qu'elle voit Lambert, c'est un jour de grande tempête. Sur la plage dévastée, la vieille Nan, que tout le monde craint et dit à moitié folle, croit reconnaître en lui le visage d'un certain Michel.
D'autres, au village, ont pour lui des regards étranges. Comme Lili, au comptoir de son bar, ou son père, l'ancien gardien de phare. Une photo disparaît, de vieux jouets réapparaissent.
L'histoire de Lambert intrigue la narratrice et l'homme l'attire. En veut-il à la mer ou bien aux hommes ? Dans les lamentations obsédantes du vent, chacun semble avoir quelque chose à taire.

Grand Prix des Lectrices de ELLE 2009