Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout is an amazing book. There are so many adjectives that apply — wonderful, glorious, magnificent, fantastic, and so on. I didn’t think I would love it so much because I am not a fan of short stories but these worked so well, possibly because they all take place in Crosby, Maine and Olive Kitteridge links all of them together. Some of the chapters are primarily about Olive but the others that focus on other Crosby inhabitants feature conversation about Olive and/or a “cameo” appearance by her, interacting with the chapter’s main characters. Both the town and Olive hold these stories together.
Olive strives to know and understand herself and through this self-awareness, she hopes to become a better person. We watch as she evolves over time, privy to her innermost thoughts and desires. She is a complex character and Strout takes time developing her to the fullest. Olive Kitteridge ultimately becomes the reader’s close friend, someone you don’t want to lose touch with or say goodbye.
The writing is exceptional as is the use of imagery, metaphors and similes.
The girl was neat as a pin, if plain as a plate.
Lots of people had favorite songs, and Angie would sometimes play them, but not always. Henry Kitteridge was different. She always played his song because whenever she saw him, it was like moving into a warm pocket of air.
The natural rubber band around people’s lives that curiosity stretched for a while had long ago returned to encompass their own particularities. Two, five, then seven years passed by—and in the case of Olive Kitteridge, she found herself positively squeezed to death by an unendurable sense of loneliness
The scenery is vividly and richly described, to the point that the reader feels he/she is there. The characters have depth and are well developed. While I wasn’t as eager to learn about other people as I was about Olive and her family, I found myself sucked right in to these chapters featuring other people’s stories. Strout does an amazing job inviting the reader in to these stories and keeping interest high. I became intrigued to see how Olive was worked into the chapters about other people — how the connection was made.
It has been a long time since I read a book like this — so masterfully structured and crafted. Right away I knew that I would savor every sentence. I look forward to reading all of Strout’s works. She is a masterful storyteller with incredible insight into human nature.
It seemed to him he should have some opinion about this, but he did not know what to think. When had he stopped having opinions on things?
She didn’t like to be alone. Even more, she didn’t like being with people.
...after a certain point in a marriage, you stopped having a certain kind of fight, Olive thought, because when the years behind you were more than the years in front of you, things were different.
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