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"Olive Kitteridge," by Elizabeth Strout (Random House, 270 pages, $25)
Olive Kitteridge retired from her job teaching high school mathematics in Crosby, a small town on the coast of Maine. Her husband, Henry, is the town's pharmacist. Christopher, their only child, is a podiatrist on the verge of moving to California.
Elizabeth Strout's novel "Olive Kitteridge" establishes those opening storylines. Olive then unifies 13 stories that scan across the town, zooming in on different scenes, each vignette deftly drawn in brushstrokes ranging from bold to subtle. In some, Olive drives the action. In others, she is barely a whisper, a fleeting memory.
Olive is complicated. She carries herself with a "quiet anger." Her father had taken his own life. In one story, she notices a former student sitting in a car parked near the ocean. He left town years ago after some family troubles. Olive hops into his car and they talk about the emotional turmoil that families can go through.
She tells him about her father. "No note," Mrs. Kitteridge said. "Oh, Mother had such a hard time with that no-note business. She thought the least he could have done was leave a note, the way he did if he'd walked to the grocery store."
Strout's characters are nuanced. Some are fragile as eggshells. Angela O'Meara plays the piano at a cocktail bar in town. "Her face revealed itself too clearly in a kind of simple expectancy no longer appropriate for a woman her age. There was, in the tilt of her head, the slight messiness of the very bright hair, the open gaze of her blue eyes, a quality that could, in other circumstances, make people uncomfortable."
Many of these people are struggling. The piano player drinks. The Kitteridges can't understand why their son moved to California after they built him a house. Some are lonely. Others, bored. The summer people arrive and treat the locals with condescension. Strout, a native of Maine, knows her rocky terrain.
Young people have their troubles. One is dying from an eating disorder. Another has been deserted by her bridegroom on their wedding day. Perhaps all this sounds depressing? Strout imbues each tale with shades of tenderness that linger just beneath the surface of some jagged emotions.
No matter how bad you think your life is the guy across the street probably has it worse. Humor and heartbreak are often inseparable: "more gratifying, however, was the fact that for Olive and Henry the story of Bill and Bunny's offspring was worse than their own."
While life in rustic Crosby is often rather placid there are some shocking events that do occur. Olive finds herself in some strange situations. As we get to know her over the course of these 13 stories, we begin to admire her hard headed determination.
In one haunting story, "Tulips," Olive encounters Louise, a recluse. " 'You've probably thought of killing yourself.' Louise said this serenely, as though discussing a recipe for lemon pie."
The book ends in an emotional climax that is unexpected and delightful. - goto
Posted by Vick Mickunas on 3/23/08; 12:08:44 AM
from the dept.
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