Elizabeth Strout’s Tell Me Everything brought tears to my eyes. Longlisted for the Women’s Prize, this gracefully-written, moving novel brings together characters from Strout’s previous books, including Lucy Barton, a successful writer who moved from New York to Maine with her ex-husband William during the pandemic, and Olive Kitteridge, the cranky retired schoolteacher in the Pulitzer Prize-winning Olive Kitteridge.
Set in the small town of Crosby, Maine, Strout’s latest tells the stories of Maine natives as well as newcomers. Perhaps my favorite character is Bob Burgess, a lawyer who is Lucy’s best friend. An accusation of accidental patricide shaped his childhood. His older brother was responsible for the accident, but Bob, who is still confused about it, took the fall. In the course of the novel, Bob saves a gentle introvert, Matt, from a charge of matricide. Although Bob doesn’t think about it, he is saving himself as well as Matt.
There is almost a romance in this novel. A gentle love story unfolds during Lucy and Bob’s long walks. Will they become romantically involved, we wonder? They seldom touch each other and never kiss, because Bob is married to Margaret, a minister with whom he isn’t getting along at the moment, and Lucy is living with her ex-husband William, a self-centered, obsessive parasitologist. Lucy and Bob are loyal and reluctant to judge others, but if only…
Then there’s grouchy Olive Kitteridge, the heroine of Strout’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, Olive Kitteridge. Olive was a teacher in Crosby for many years. Now she is in her 90s, complains that her son hates her because he never visits, and laments the changes in the culture. But her best friend lives in a nearby retirement home, so she is not alone. Lucy enters her life, because Olive tells Bob she has a story to tell Lucy. Lucy refers to Olive’s fascinating stories of local people as “unrecorded lives.”
It could be said that the main theme of the book is unrecorded lives. There is a link between fiction and these unrecorded lives. Oral storytelling is different from writing, but how different is it really? Olive tells stories of tragedy, romance, fortitude, stoicism, and, occasionally, death. Lucy is the repository of these stories. Olive has chosen well.
Strout’s graceful, carefully-shaped sentences are a pleasure to read. She has won several prizes in the U.S., including the Pulitzer Prize, but the esteem of the Women’s Prize judges is another distinction. I hope she wins!
I, too, am a big fan of Elizabeth Strout. The breakthrough novel for me (i.e., the one that turned me into a total fan girl) was “My Name is Lucy Barton.” There’s no denying that Olive is a marvelous character, but Lucy, with her damaged childhood, great resilience and compassionate understanding of humanity’s foibles & glory, was the character that won my heart. I enjoyed “Tell Me” but — must admit — I was a little disappointed with it. Don’t misunderstand — it was better than most of the other contemporary novels I’ve read in the last year or so but it seemed to me that Strout was, just a teeny bit, retreading old ground. I also found Lucy’s verbal tics, which had enhanced the previous novels, just a trifle stale with this one.
I love the Lucy Barton books! I, too, admire her ability to overcome her past, For me this was a real pleasure, and is the best of the Women’s Prize longlisted books I’ve read. However, some English vloggers really despise Strout. She is such a graceful writer: I don”t know what’s going on there!
I can’t imagine anyone despising Strout, who’s such a marvelous writer! Perhaps she’s a little TOO popular/successful (not to mention prolific), so that a reverse snobbery comes into play? One theory anyway! Also, again just a rather inarticulate thought, perhaps a general devaluation of literature by a woman writer that deals with themes of family, friendship & connectedness? As I recall, there have been some critics in the past who’ve devalued the “little canvas” (my term, not theirs) on which Austen wrote.
I really must start tuning into the Women’s Prize more often; I tend to stick to the Booker, with a lesser interest in the National Book Award & the Pulitzer. I’m thinking this year I may attempt the Women’s Prize short list, depending on how my current project goes. Inspired at least in part by your discussions of 19th century fiction, I’m actually halfway through Eça de Queiros’ The Maias. I almost went for a re-read of Trollope’s Can You Forgive Her? but, for some reason known only to the Reading Gods, opted for Maias instead! So far it’s been highly rewarding. The translation (Margaret Costa; New Directions) is good, although I do wish there were notes. It’s an odd choice for me, as I haven’t been a big reader of translated literature (I’ve been working on that, for the past few years, but still) & this is the first 19th century work I’ve read in some time. It’s been a wonderful relief, however, to lose myself in one of those great, sprawling, slice-of-life novels; so a fabulous way to tune out the current chaos & ugliness.
At our house, we both loved Strout’s latest. Being longlisted is a nod to her excellence, whether she wins or not. though I do hope she wins. You can’t imagine how surprised I was to hear her novels mocked. What do people like? God knows. Maybe one day I’ll get around to The Maias! Yet another fascinating book to add to the TBR.
Just to thank you for keeping blogging up.
I’m still here!