Saturday, November 27, 2021

Also Nov.: My Name is Lucy Barton, by Elizabeth Strout

 We're not sure what to think of this book. By virtue of its title, one presumes we'll learn who Lucy is. One would be wrong. What we hear is Lucy's background of childhood poverty and abuse by her parents. We learn that her dad fought in WW2, and had a terrible incident, which colors his view of any young German American man he encounters (eg, Lucy's boyfriend, whom she ends up marrying). 

What L and I identify with is the background of poverty, of feeling different because of it, of being perhaps pitied because of it. 

We identify with a generation of parents who didn't utter the words, I love you, while we were growing up. It was said (in both our homes) sparingly. For me, my dad never said it, except in the hospital where he died the next day. 

Lucy Barton is a woman who comes from a small rural Illinois town (so do we, L and I). Lucy loves her daughters, and she dotes on them, knows how to show them love. 

The book ends with many puzzles -- the reader must decide if it's too many puzzles. 

For me, personally, I wanted to know - What was the "Thing" (Lucy's word) from her childhood? Why didn't her mom stay in touch or even seem interested in her life, her children? 

Elizabeth Strout definitely has a way with words. There are truisms throughout the book that resonate. 

L and I were (are) looking for books that speak to us at this point in our lives. Quality ones are hard to find. This one touched on a few truisms that resonate. We are currently deciding if we'll continue with more of Strout's books. 

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