The Identicals

“[T]he girls—just short of coming to actual blows—decided to settle the dispute the way they had been settling disputes for seventeen and a half years: by shooting rock, paper, scissors.”

The use of the game rock, paper, scissors, an act of chance, functions as a symbol for the arbitrary yet definitive nature of the choice that fractured the twins’ lives. By reducing a life-altering decision to a children’s game, the narrative underscores how a single, seemingly trivial moment sets the foundation for decades of resentment and hurt.

“This guy, Captain Peter, isn’t the kind of guy Tabitha would ever hook up with. He’s the kind of guy…Harper would hook up with! Harper has no standards. Harper’s bar—for everything in life—isn’t just low; it’s lying on the ground.”

Through Tabitha’s internal monologue, Hilderbrand offers insight into her class-consciousness and her tendency to define herself in opposition to her sister despite a 14-year estrangement. The hyperbole in the final sentence (“it’s lying on the ground”) emphasizes the sense of superiority Tabitha feels, which masks her own insecurities and unhappiness.

“The Frost family had split right down the middle, like one of these photographs torn in half—Billy holding one twin, Eleanor the other.”

Narrated from Ainsley’s perspective, this passage employs a simile that visualizes the central family schism. The imagery of a photograph torn in half captures the core conflict and defines the break that must be mended, laying the groundwork for Hilderbrand’s thematic engagement with The Role of Empathy in Reconciliation.

“Wha…? Ainsley thinks. She sees Aunt Harper enter the tent just as the bug-eyed woman throws a full flute of champagne all over the front of Tabitha’s black Roxie dress, and then, with a whip-quick motion, slaps Tabitha across the face.”

Billy’s memorial introduces the mistaken identity motif, which underscores the porous divide between the public and the private in small-town communities. The public assault, directed at Tabitha but intended for Harper, physically imposes the consequences of Harper’s life onto her sister, reinforcing their innate connection despite their ongoing conflict. The defilement of the black Roxie dress—a symbol of Eleanor’s legacy and Tabitha’s formal world—foreshadows the collapse of Tabitha’s carefully constructed life.

“I’m an officer of the law. I can’t date a woman with a reputation like yours. We have to break up.”

Drew’s refusal to associate with Harper following Sadie’s public accusation, emphasizing his professional role, illustrates the ways that personal reputation is inseparable from social and professional standing, especially in insular populations. Drew’s words mark the beginning of Harper’s formal ostracism, framing her as a public liability, emphasizing the novel’s thematic interest in The Struggle to Escape the Past in a Small-Town Community.

“She remembers rock, paper, scissors and Harper rolling away with Billy, leaving Tabitha behind to suffer through a future of living up to Eleanor’s impossibly high standards.”

Tabitha’s internal monologue reveals the origin of the sisters’ schism, referencing the symbol of rock, paper, scissors. The memory establishes the arbitrary childhood game as the pivotal event that fractured the family and dictated the twins’ divergent paths. By framing Harper’s departure as an abandonment and her own fate as “suffer[ing],” the narrative establishes the long-held resentment and hurt central to Tabitha’s inability to forgive Harper.

“The Vineyard is a great place to live…until you screw up. Being part of a community means you have a responsibility to behave, to obey the laws, to act like a decent human being. And when you don’t, you let everyone else in the community down.”

In this moment of reflection, Harper articulates a central argument of the novel about life in an insular setting. The author uses this direct statement to define the unwritten social contract of a small town, where individual actions are subject to collective judgment. The aphoristic quality of the line, “The Vineyard is a great place to live…until you screw up,” functions as a thematic thesis for Harper’s predicament. Her thoughts position her transgression as both a personal mistake and a betrayal of a communal ethos.

“Tabitha doesn’t want Harper to be the one to fix things, because Harper never actually fixes things. She only makes things worse. Look at her life.”

As Tabitha struggles to find a caretaker for Ainsley, her internal monologue reveals the immovable nature of her resentment toward Harper. The use of free indirect discourse allows the reader access to Tabitha’s subjective view of events, which serves as the primary obstacle to their reconciliation. The short, declarative sentences—“She only makes things worse. Look at her life”—demonstrates a prejudice so ingrained that it prevents Tabitha from accepting a logical solution, highlighting the emotional intensity of the sisters’ estrangement.

“Edgartown is like Nantucket: it has an architectural integrity and an elegance that Harper finds powerful.”

Here, Hilderbrand uses a simile directly equating a part of Martha’s Vineyard with Nantucket to subvert the novel’s central symbolic dichotomy, which casts the two islands as opposites. This comparison reveals that Harper, despite her bohemian lifestyle, shares an aesthetic sensibility with her mother and sister. This insight complicates the narrative’s initial premise, suggesting the sisters’ identities are more similar than their separate environments would indicate.

“Ainsley’s eyes fill with tears. Someone is here, taking care of her. Someone loves her. Ainsley reaches for a pecan, blinking her eyes, then she quickly wipes away the tear that falls. Harper must see it, however, because she holds open her arms. ‘Give me a hug,’ she says. ‘It’s good to see you.’”

Ainsley’s immediate emotional response to a simple act of care reveals the parental neglect she has experienced. The short, declarative sentences—“Someone is here, taking care of her. Someone loves her”—reflects a child’s direct internal thoughts, contrasting with her typically defiant exterior. This moment establishes the nurturing bond between aunt and niece, positioning Harper as a surrogate mother and highlighting Ainsley’s deep-seated need for affection, a key catalyst for the plot’s development.

“She can’t get over the sense of exhilaration that fills her when she drives her Bronco off the ferry onto Nantucket. She hasn’t been here in fourteen years, but even so, everything is basically the same: […] But by far the best thing about Nantucket is that here, nobody knows her! There is no one to avoid, no one to be scared of.”

Harper’s arrival on Nantucket represents a physical and psychological shift—a break in the status quo that provides a foundation for growth and change. The narrative uses italicization to emphasize Harper’s internal relief—“nobody knows her!”—which underscores how her identity on Martha’s Vineyard has been defined by her past mistakes. For Harper, Nantucket symbolizes a chance for reinvention, a blank slate where she is not defined by the social baggage she carries in her small community.

“When she reenters the kitchen, she sees that Ainsley and Harper are clearing the table. Tabitha watches the two of them moving in concert. It’s like watching herself—the mother she always wanted to be, the mother she would have been if Julian had lived—with her beloved teenage daughter.”

The resentment and longing Tabitha feels as she recognizes a version of herself in Harper is rooted in grief and a sense of personal failure. The simile comparing Harper and Ainsley’s harmony to the idealized motherhood she lost when Julian died exposes the core trauma that has dictated her actions for 14 years. This passage serves as the psychological justification for the “island swap,” as Tabitha pushes away the mirror of Harper’s natural maternal instinct.

“‘I don’t know what Candace ever did to you. […] Because you’ve never been accountable for any of the atrocious things you’ve done or said to people. And that’—here she looks at Harper—‘is your fault, Tabitha.’”

During a meeting at the principal’s office, Stephanie’s accusation utilizes the recurring motif of mistaken identity as a plot device to reveal crucial information. She directs her anger at Harper, whom she believes to be Tabitha, exposing the family’s negative reputation within the insular circle of high school parents. The direct charge of blame—“your fault, Tabitha”—articulates the novel’s exploration of parental responsibility and family dysfunction, while also forcing Harper to confront the consequences of her sister’s and niece’s choices.

“‘People think we’re snooty,’ Meghan says. ‘Because we are snooty. Your mother and your sister train us to sniff out who’s buying big and who’s not, and we are to treat the customers accordingly. Tabitha doesn’t like browsers, and she positively hates tryer-oners.’”

Meghan, the boutique manager, characterizes the store as a direct reflection of Eleanor and Tabitha’s personalities: exclusive, judgmental, and class-conscious. The boutique functions as a symbol for the Nantucket side of the family, embodying a rigid social hierarchy that is ultimately alienating and unprofitable. By establishing the store’s “snooty” reputation and financial decline, the narrative sets the stage for Harper, representing the more egalitarian Vineyard, to deconstruct this elitism, introduce a new model, and bring about positive change.

“So this, she thinks, is what it’s like to be Harper.”

After being mistaken for her twin at a Martha’s Vineyard bar, Tabitha leans into the false identity, hinting at a desire to break free from the confines of her carefully ordered world. The author uses italics to represent Tabitha’s internal monologue, as she willingly sheds her own constrained persona. This scene speaks directly to the novel’s thematic exploration of The Power of Place in Shaping Identity, suggesting that a change in environment allows Tabitha to experiment with the freedom she associates with her sister.

“When they load up the Bronco, Harper feels like she’s part of a family. Ramsay is the father figure, Harper the mother, Ainsley the child, Fish the dog. It’s a peculiar sensation. […] Maybe because the construct is artificial, it feels fun—like playacting.”

During a beach outing on Nantucket, Harper’s internal reflection reveals her longing for the traditional family structure denied to her by her parents’ divorce. The description of the group as a nuclear family unit, immediately undercut by the acknowledgment that it is “artificial” and “like playacting,” highlights her awareness of her temporary happiness, establishing the emotional void that drives her eventual reunion with Tabitha.

“If Candace is the new me, then who am I?”

The rhetorical question posed by Ainsley encapsulates the novel’s broader exploration of identity as something fluid and context-dependent, mirroring the central conflict between her mother and aunt. Ainsley’s question marks a turning point in her maturation, as she begins to consciously separate herself from the negative persona she has cultivated within her former friend group.

“Swimming naked in a public place isn’t something Tabitha Frost does. Tabitha Frost is dignified, her behavior unimpeachable. Tabitha Frost is uptight, she thinks.”

This passage uses third-person limited narration to expose the gap between Tabitha’s carefully constructed identity and her emerging self-awareness. The first two sentences describe the public persona associated with her name, while the italicized third sentence reveals a critical internal judgment that prompts her to act against her nature. This internal conflict demonstrates the effect of Martha’s Vineyard on her character, showing her actively rebelling against the “uptight” identity shaped by her life on Nantucket.

“Billy Frost had been fond of the phrase halcyon days […] It originated in Greek mythology. […] When Alcyone made a nest on the beach, the waves threatened to sweep it away, so her father, Aeolus, suspended the winds for seven days, known as the halcyon days—the days when storms do not occur.”

Hilderbrand uses an allusion to Greek mythology as a framing device and an instance of foreshadowing. By defining “halcyon days” as a temporary calm, the narrative signals that Harper’s newfound happiness on Nantucket is fragile and will soon be disrupted by a “storm.” The reference establishes a tone of dramatic irony, as the reader anticipates the inevitable end of Harper’s peaceful interlude.

“‘It’s the Vineyard, Drew,’ the chief says. ‘Everything here is a conflict of interest.’”

The police chief’s assertion functions as a concise thesis for the novel’s setting, illustrating the theme of The Struggle to Escape the Past in a Small-Town Community. The chief’s aphoristic statement characterizes the island as an insular world where personal histories and family loyalties are intertwined, making objective action nearly impossible. This social dynamic precipitates the central conflicts surrounding Harper’s affair and Tabitha’s relationship with Franklin.

“‘Your aunt is cheapening the brand,’ Tabitha says. ‘She has always sullied everything she touches, and this is no different.’”

Here, Tabitha uses the word “sullied” to frame Harper as a contaminating force, a perception rooted in the trauma of Julian’s death. During the island swap, the sisters’ personal conflict permeates their professional lives, with the boutique’s “brand” serving as a proxy for the family’s reputation, which Tabitha feels compelled to protect from Harper’s perceived recklessness.

“‘I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with you,’ Franklin says. […] ‘But it doesn’t matter. Sadie is my family.’”

The juxtaposition of Franklin’s confession of love with the finality of “it doesn’t matter” highlights the novel’s exploration of the tension between familial obligation and personal desire. Franklin’s choice reinforces the power of established community ties and shared history over a new romance. His decision demonstrates how the past actions of one twin directly impact the present life of the other, entrapping them both in a web of consequences.

“They dance with abandon, hands in the air. The band plays ‘With or Without You,’ by U2, and Harper throws her arm around Tabitha’s neck and the two of them belt out the truest words ever written in a song. For them, at least. I can’t live…with or without you.”

In a flashback to the night Julian died, Tabitha recalls a moment of joyful connection with Harper. The musical allusion to U2’s “With or Without You” encapsulates the sisters’ paradoxical, codependent bond. The song’s lyrics foreshadow the 14-year estrangement that will follow this night of unity. The memory highlights the tragedy of their schism by first establishing the depth of their connection.