My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout, a Pulitzer Prize winning-author of her first book Olive Kittridge, is a story about a writer who grew up poor in rural Illinois and discusses the small trivialities of her own life—both past and present.
Lucy Barton is married and has two daughters—she finds herself ill after removing her appendix. In her unforeseen prolonged hospital stay, her mother comes into town unbeknownst to the protagonist. Lucy hadn’t seen her mother in years; in fact she hadn’t spoken much to her family since her marriage—the family felt she was escaping from her roots in exchange for a new and better life. Both mother and daughter lived separate lives for so many years, but although somewhat strangers now, Lucy was more than happy for her mother’s presence; the protagonist’s relationship with her mother is complex and strained, but there’s a sense of a strong bond between mother and daughter and affection that never seemed to have changed, even though both the character’s have. It records a five-day visit from her mom in the mid-1980s in New York City.
Mainly, her story is about loneliness. Lucy’s past, which has impacted her in many ways, is invincible and incommunicable to her husband, friends, and general peers. The protagonist knows the feeling of hunger, hardship, and living without; therefore, it becomes hard for people to ever relate to someone who had nothing. Growing up in a small town, she was shunned and looked down upon because of her class. Even when she moved to New York with her husband and started a family, she continues to find people who cannot feel what she felt, nor comprehend her hardships of her past life. Deprived from so much, Lucy had to learn to assimilate to this unfamiliar world that she has always lived in, but didn’t know that it really existed when she was younger.
Although it is about the main character’s loneliness, it is also a story about a mother and daughter—it’s about Lucy’s undying and unquestionable love for her mom, and receiving that love back from her mother. It’s about love, misery, solace, acceptance, family, and fear.
I am a great fan of Elizabeth Strout. This is my second book that I have read from her, and I plan on reading all of her literature, but I wasn’t a true fan of this particular read. I loved the idea and concept of the tale, because it centers on a relationship that is relatable to any mother and to any daughter. Therefore, the book addresses a universal problem and a universal kind of love that allowed me to draw a personal connection to the protagonist’s emotions. But I felt that there was a lack of personal problems. The narrator, Lucy, doesn’t delve into her fallen and broken marriage or talk too deeply of her relationships with others—she mentions people, but doesn’t talk much about them. I felt that there was so much to tell, but the story wasn’t told fully. After finishing it, I felt incomplete with the book’s ending. I wanted to know more about Lucy, more about her life after she left home and moved to New York, and more about her life after her divorce; I knew all about her youth, but I knew nothing of the woman she became from her experiences. Due to that, it was hard to connect to the character, even though I connected to her feelings.
The book was enjoyable, but it wasn’t something I thought was fantastic. I will always continue to admire the author’s talent for connecting readers to ordinary people and problems that take place in ordinary places, because stories like that is what makes fiction almost feel real.
x, Kayla
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