by Elizabeth Strout
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Random House
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The iconic Olive struggles to understand not only herself and her own life but also the lives of those around her in the town of Crosby, Maine. Whether with a teenager coming to terms with the loss of her father, a young woman about to give birth during a hilariously inopportune moment, a nurse who confesses a secret high school crush, or a lawyer who struggles with an inheritance she does not want to accept, the unforgettable Olive will continue to startle us, to move us, and to inspire moments of transcendent grace.
When you get old, you become invisible. It’s just the truth. And yet it’s freeing in a way…You go through life and you think you are something. Not in a good way, and not in a bad way. But you think you are something, and then you see that you are no longer anything. To a waitress with a huge hind end you’ve become invisible, And it’s freeing.
This is book two in the story of Olive Kitteridge, from the fictitious town of Crosby, Maine, and unlike many others I loved this one just as much, if not more, than the first one. This continuation on the wonderful Olive gave me more of the perfection and it was worth the ten year wait for it. I related to these books so much because Olive IS my Aunt in so many ways and since her death I have missed her terribly.
Olive digs deep to unearth the fact that she added to the fractured relationships with the men in her life, her husband, Henry and her son, Christopher. It is heartbreaking but rewarding in that she really is honest, even if abrasive, about whom she is and what role she plays in the world around her.
I don’t think I’ve ever used the word poignant enough to describe books like this one and its predecessor, but poignant is the only word strong enough to spell out how much these two have touched my life.
It’s penetrating, powerful, and brilliantly unforgettable.
Olive digs deep to unearth the fact that she added to the fractured relationships with the men in her life, her husband, Henry and her son, Christopher. It is heartbreaking but rewarding in that she really is honest, even if abrasive, about whom she is and what role she plays in the world around her.
I don’t think I’ve ever used the word poignant enough to describe books like this one and its predecessor, but poignant is the only word strong enough to spell out how much these two have touched my life.
It’s penetrating, powerful, and brilliantly unforgettable.