Interpreter of Silences

It's too bad one star is the lowest rating I can give this book. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed a book less. I've never been so happy to reach the back cover.
Why did I finish it? I'm a stubborn Finn and I finish what I start. But, honestly, there were times my eyes would glaze over or I'd feel like chewing my arm off. Life's too short to read books like this.
What's so bad about it? She jumps around from past to present, rarely letting you know who is talking, thinking, or acting...and describes even past events in the present tense.
Then there's the content: It's about a woman who goes back to Cape Breton and is confronted by many family secrets. She's married, but falls for an American, staying next door for the summer. He is engaged. Strike one and two.
She learns her mother had an affair (strike three) with her cousin (strike four?). You get the picture. There's more, but I won't go there. I don't find love stories where one or the other is already married, to be very engaging.
But it's not just a bad soap opera. It has very flowery prose that I'm sure many would say is its' glory, or at least its' redeeming quality. But again, too much. I don't consider myself a Cretan, but more times than I can count, I found myself asking, "What is she saying?"
If these are the thoughts of most people, direct me to the nearest bridge. Maybe that's the point. It's called the Interpreter of Silences, so that's why it's so introspective.
No real action, though, until the penultimate chapter, and many unanswered questions: Is her father an arsonist? Will she leave her husband for Noel?...not that I really care.