Storm Pegs mixes biography, nature writing, poetry, travel, and an examination of language and place. It's both personal to the author's experience and full of moments of recognition and connection. Jen starts her introduction with a moment of wondering how to define a place like Shetland which defies easy definition. 'Where am I' She asks? I in turn am wondering how to define her book.
The answer to both questions might be home. My relationship with Shetland informs how I've read 'Storm Pegs', not everyone will feel the same about it as I do, but reading this for me was like seeing a much loved view after a while away from it. When I wrote about Kathleen Jamie's 'Cairn' I talked about how these two books have become a sort of literary pair of meids to me - meid is a Shetland word for landmarks seen from the sea - line them up just so and you know where you are; you can find your way home, or mark a good fishing spot so. 
I stand by that. It's been an eventful few months full of change and planning, these books have been fixtures that continue to help me navigate through this current set of challenges. But why should you read 'Storm Pegs'?
It's the structure of the book that makes it so special. If I've read Jen's posts about it correctly it's been years in the making, so most of the 17 years she covers are in the present tense and arranged roughly by season and by the sense of a word. There's a beginning, a first visit, the decision to stay, and an end for this book at least; the starting of a family. The middle part of all this exists outside of a strict chronology, it doesn't read like fiction, but it's compelling in a way I associate with fiction.
It's Shetland that's at the center of this book, seen through Hadfield's eyes and experiences. She alludes to the things she's doing in that time - the travel for residencies and teaching, the poetry she's writing, the relationships she finds, and the house she builds, but they are peripheral things compared to the landscape she finds herself in and the elements that define it. If this book is like anything I've ever read it's Nan Shepherd's 'The Living Mountain' which must, I think, have been a key influence - references to it and to Nan's relationship with her beloved landscape run through the book. It's hard not to think of George Mackay Brown either, except that where he looks back, Jen looks forward or exists wholeheartedly in a moment.
Hadfield's treatment of Shetland's language is interesting too - Storm Pegs is as much about exploring that language as anything else I think. Dialect as I remember it being spoken in the 1970s and 80s is fading away, but that's also been recognised and people are fighting for it. Mallachy Tallack talked about the twin pillars of accent and ancestry that gate keep a Shetland identity (I can't remember where exactly) with a sense of frustration of being kept out.
Jen seems to have a less complicated delight in words that express something fundamental to her - Lightsome/Lichtsome is one of them. She chooses to discuss it in the winter part of her book - I'd describe lightsome as something that you take joy in with others - good company and good times - an evening laughing with friends, though a person can also be lightsome. An example here is a group of women swimming through a sea filled with Mareel (bioluminescence - tiny luminous creatures in the sea that light up as anything moves through them). I have seen this, paddled in it, rowed a dinghy through it - it's magical, definitely lightsome, and so is the description of it here.
The answer to Jen's question of where am I? Is somewhere a group of serious women can gather on a dark, drizzling winter's night to swim in a sea full of living light and for that to be both remarkable and not remarkable. I am not there but I wish I was.
Lovely review of what sounds like a unique and very creative book.
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