The Mookse and the Gripes discussion

My Name Is Lucy Barton, by Elizabeth Strout



UK Publication Date: February 4, 2016
US Publication Date: January 12, 2016
208 pp

Lucy Barton is recovering slowly from what should have been a simple operation. Her mother, to whom she hasn't spoken for many years, comes to see her. Her unexpected visit forces Lucy to confront the tension and longing that have informed every aspect of her life: her impoverished childhood in Amgash, Illinois, her escape to New York and her desire to become a writer, her faltering marriage, her love for her two daughters.

Knitting this powerful narrative together is the brilliant storytelling voice of Lucy herself: keenly observant, deeply human, and truly unforgettable. In My Name Is Lucy Barton, one of America's finest writers shows how a simple hospital visit illuminates the most tender relationship of all-the one between mother and daughter.

I read this in March and declared it my book of the year. At the end of July that still stands. Top choice, judges!

Very well written. I enjoyed this one in May, but not one I've remembered or that I'd recommend with any enthusiasm. Probably the favourite to win I think based on critical reviews and readership. A US writer will need to become the first some year soon, right?

Yes, I think this could be the year for a US writer, Ethan.

I read this one in Jan. and gave it 4 stars. I enjoyed it when I read it but it wasn't very memorable and isn't one I've recommended. So far this is the only one on the list I've read so not sure where it will fall for me on the overall placement.

I'm definitely the odd one out on this one. I found it treacly and Hallmark cardy. No complaint about her ability to write, or convey atmosphere and depth with a minimum of words. But I just found the whole thing too 'nice' too contrived. Every statement is oh so correct. Bad things happen, like a childhood where you were picked on endlessly, but one learns from those experiences and moves on.

And the ludicrous discussions between Lucy and her mother? So nice to have the opportunity to make up for the decades of estrangement. Never too late, is it? And you need not say the word love for it to be felt. What a warm feeling the book leaves one with. Everything so well put. Lucy spends much of the novel in the hospital where the nice doctor visits her daily for nine weeks. Each and every time he is mentioned we need to hear about how dear and nice he was. Come on, I can't be the only person driven nuts by this mindless repetition. And the last we hear of him? "He was just gone, this dear, dear man."

Grrrh! Even well written YA books no longer feel the need to be so nice. It all just feels very stale and fake to me.

It's hard to believe we read the same book. I found it an uncomfortable read, and not at all nice.

Lascosas wrote: "I'm definitely the odd one out on this one. I found it treacly and Hallmark cardy."

It sounds that way to me even from the blurb. After forcing myself to finish one book I didn't really want to read for the Booker International, and being put off reading fiction for 3 months and just about any book for one, I'm not going to push myself with any of these I really don't like the sound of, and Lucy Barton may be top of that list.

Don't get me wrong, I loved the book, but some of her childhood experiences are horrific, and she's not surrounded by nice people, with the exception of the doctor. I think that's why she was so enamoured with him! Though I'm not 100% convinced he's real.

Her mother can only communicate her feelings about other people, and only those she feels superior to because of their downfall. She's judgemental and unrepentant for the pain she caused her daughter (and is still causing). She's not at all nice.

I didn't read much positivity into this story at all - everyone except Lucy's second husband and her doctor just kept letting her down, and all she could do was thank them for the tiny shreds of love she DID get, and make declarations of love that sounded more and more hysterical and hollow. Not any Hallmark at all, but a damaged person's desperate attempt to will a little love into her lonely life (I mean her first husband, mum, dad, brother and sister just treat her horribly and her daughters blame her for leaving their father, just because he slept around with her best friend instead of taking care of her and the girls while she was desperately ill???)

So I see Lucy as a somewhat unreliable narrator, who only by reinventing herself finds a little happiness with husband number two - and who can have a relation to her daughters and siblings strictly on their terms - being used financially and not seen or loved for herself (the daughters never come to stay in the room she always makes sure to have ready for them, her sister exploits her for cash and her brother never wants to talk about her life or her kids). A very sad book about a damaged childhood and victim identity she never completely escapes from. Her increasing hysterics in the narration with all the hollow love declarations and ditto apologies really irritated me in the end, thus the low rating.

Hallmark isn't the term I'd have chosen off my own bat, but what I see in the blurbs is a fictional equivalent of the misery memoir with its conventions and pat conclusions, also one set in a milieu that doesn't appeal to me.

Lascosas wrote: "I'm definitely the odd one out on this one. I found it treacly and Hallmark cardy. No complaint about her ability to write, or convey atmosphere and depth with a minimum of words. But I just found the whole thing too 'nice' too contrived."

You're not alone. Okay, she can manage some examples of diction but most characters, their speech and their actions don't make sense to me. I agree with @Louise that Lucy is trying to be an unreliable narrator but I don't think it's done in a way that works. Seeing the number of rave reviews I wonder if I've read the same book as them. It rings false from start to finish. Actually no, not finish. I couldn't finish it. I've abandoned it.

I was inadvertently comparing this with the '07 Booker winner, The Gathering, the first-person unreliable narration of a dysfunctional family in stream-of-consciousness mode. The differences between them appear astounding today. Dear Judges, for the sake of all that is art please don't promote Lucy Barton to the shortlist.

I wanted to note that in 2007 Ang was one of the only forum members who cheered on The Gathering, so I found Jibran's comment interesting.

I just started this last night and got a few pages in. I had a hard time pinning down Strout's Olive Kitteridge, going back and forth between something like the two sides above, but ultimately really enjoying it. Curious to see where I land on this one.

Glad to see I've stirred up some comments. Yes, her childhood wasn't nice, and yes her relationships with just about everyone are stilted and emotionally removed. But there is no guttural reality in how any of this is presented. We get to fill in the sadness of it all with whatever details we want because everything is presented through a gauze of unreality. And because it is done with such careful language we are able to gloss over the past badness and focus on how Lucy has simply gone on with her life. Good girl, Lucy!

And remember, Hallmark cards often address terrible events (death, disease), it is the sweetly uplifting message, not the event, that characterizes the cards, and this book.

Trevor wrote: "I wanted to note that in 2007 Ang was one of the only forum members who cheered on The Gathering, so I found Jibran's comment interesting."

For The Gathering, I think Enright struggled to round it off but the rest, with echoes of Woolfian imagery, was pretty good. I didn't know not many people liked it.

I'd look forward to your thoughts on Lucy Button Barton.

My four star review:

I vaguely remember attempting to read 'Olive Kitteridge' back when it won the Pulitzer and finding it dreary and unreadable, and abandoning it after 10 pages, or so. I'm glad I gave Strout another chance with this Booker longlisted nominee, as I found this intriguing and eminently readable (and of the four I've read so far, clearly my favorite). More like a novella (it can be read in literally two hours), I was somewhat expecting all the vague hints and dark forebodings to climax in some unimaginably horrific event that had warped the title character for life ... and was delighted that Strout never does pander to such expectations, and doesn't define exactly WHY Barton is the way she is, but gives enough clues that you can, more or less, guess at the myriad ways she suffered. I might have to give Olive another chance after all!

PS - about the comparisons to The Gathering: that was one of my all time favorite Booker winners, so I don't at all count that as a demerit!

Doug wrote: "My four star review:
....
of the four I've read so far, clearly my favorite."

Thanks for that perspective. I noticed over on the rankings page you have the 4 you have read ranked 10,11,12th and 13th. Is that a sign you are unimpressed by the longlist this year vs. others (4 star reviews would suggest not?), or have you left it that way in the hope there is even better yet to come?

Doug wrote: "PS - about the comparisons to The Gathering: that was one of my all time favorite Booker winners, so I don't at all count that as a demerit! "

The Gathering is one of my favourites too. I am comparing on the basis of female authorship and mother-daughter relationship in both books. Lucy Barton is nothing like The Gathering in the quality of its writing, characterisation, imagistic detail...

Paul: Yes, just my idiosyncratic curmudgeonly quirk ... rather than start from the top down, I go from the bottom up... I am sure both 'Work Like ...' and 'Lucy Barton' will move up in rank as I read further in the longlist, although I suspect (and kind of hope) there won't be any that will supplant Hystopia and Eileen for the bottom two slots! So far, I AM a bit dispirited with the selections, since I can name at least a half dozen books that DIDN'T get nominated that I thought infinitely better than these four. But perhaps those weren't submitted by their publishers, so...

Doug wrote: "Paul: Yes, just my idiosyncratic curmudgeonly quirk ... rather than start from the top down, I go from the bottom up... I am sure both 'Work Like ...' and 'Lucy Barton' will move up in rank as I re..."

Thanks - I do like idiosyncratic curmudgeonly quirks! Does feel this year that the general view of the list is that while the judges have done a good job digging out some books that otherwise would have got no attention, one can't really say this is a good stab at the 13 best English language novels of the last 12m.

I finished the book this morning (at work) and really enjoyed it. I loved the way she describes the relationships and many of them fail in a very subtle way.

Lascosas wrote: "Bad things happen, like a childhood where you were picked on endlessly, but one learns from those experiences and moves on.
"

I do not agree that we move on easily from our childhood experiences. If there was a magic way to do it, there would be a lot of unemployed therapists and a lot of much happier people.

I read that sentence as sarcastic.

Yes, sarcasm was the intention, but I'm sorry if instead it came off as offhanded.

My most positive take is that this books is an attempt of a subtly ironic depiction of an aspiring mediocre writer. Lucy, who had a pretty mediocre upbringing and family life, moves up (in her own perception) to an independent person and successful writer. This, however, is illusional. For instance, her inability to truly confront her past, her painful adoration of the doctor, indicate that she has not moved on. But even if that's Strout's intent -- Lucy is so irrelevant as a person that I wonder why she is being blessed with all this irony. As a reader, I prefer failures at a grander scale.

As a reader, I prefer failures at a grander scale."

It is very interesting how we perceive the magnitude of the failure very differently. The failures are described in a very subtle way. However, I think it is as grand as it gets. Lucy has failed or thinks that she has failed in her relationships with her parents, husband and daughters. For me the writer theme of the book was secondary to the crumbling relationships.

For instance, her inability to truly confront her past, her painful adoration of the doctor, indicate that she has not moved on."

I agree and find that very human and ordinary yet powerful.

It is the kind of book that I tend to like and I expect that I will be on the wonderful book side of the Coetzee too.

I am with you on all of that, Yacka.

I finished this one the other day and still haven't quite figured out what I think about it.

On the one hand, I always enjoyed it while I was reading it. I didn't find it at all sentimental or manipulative, and I thought Strout did a fantastic job in general.

On the other hand, it's not a book that's going to stick with me long. Perhaps I failed to open myself up to it, but it felt a bit whispy, not because it was a trifle but -- this is where I'm stuck -- I didn't ever feel any particular impact in the series of vignettes.

I'm having another look at it before writing my review, and hopefully I'll either discover I am just missing something or I'll be able to figure out what I feel the book is missing.

I am getting the sense that if Lucy's life experiences are not something that the reader can relate to, the book has little impact, and the opposite also holds true. For me, it was a difficult read, but perfectly executed, and I finished thinking she must have had similar experiences to be able to get the feeling so right. It appears her upbringing was nothing like Lucy's though, which makes it all the more impressive.

My Name Is Lucy Barton is a fragmentary novel, comprising short vignettes as Lucy Barton looks back on her life. They are presented in a jumbled up order and time signposting is minimal. From this, the reader is supposed to get to know Lucy Barton.

The concept of the extended character study is not new. In my experience, the appeal of such novels depends largely on whether the reader gets "into" the character. It is not necessary to like the character or identify with them, but it requires some degree of emotional investment. Lucy Barton didn't do it for me. In fact, such was the fragmented nature of the text that I'm not sure I ever really believed in Lucy Barton at all. She seemed unremarkable - poor white trash childhood, did well at school, married into the middle class, wrote some novels, got sick, got reunited with her mother, got old... What was missing was some kind of narrative impetus to take us from one step to the next. Instead, we are just presented with a parade of events (some of which are in fact pontifications rather than actual events) in which Lucy Barton courts sympathy for her apparent stoicism in the face of adversity. Of course, if she were really stoic, she would not go on about the misery. Maybe that's the point, but it is rather a thin point.

As befits a skeletal character and a skeletal structure, this is a short novel. But for all its brevity, it feels like a slog to read. It just meanders and after the two thirds point, it becomes clear to the reader that it really isn't going anywhere. One half wonders whether the jumbled up time sequence is a device that has been deployed to create an illusion of complexity and literary worth in a work that would otherwise not have been good enough to publish. It's what Alasdair Gray did with two mediocre novels that he combined to create Lanark. And it's not as though Lucy Barton is cleverly withholding and drip-feeding vital information to control the reader's understanding of the character.

The quality of the writing has been praised. At the sentence level, it may be good but it is not particularly memorable. There was some success in depicting a poor childhood being ostracised by other kids for being smelly. But for a novel of vignettes, it should be leaving a series of strong visual impressions; it fails to do so. Instead, there's just a vague memory of a pretentious writer writing about a pretentious writer being advised to write about herself.

Not for me, thanks.

As I sat to skim the book again in order to write my review, I was amazed to find myself brought back into Lucy Barton's story in such a powerful way. It's much better than I initially thought, though strangely still a bit wispy. By that I mean that I seem to have to have the book open for me to feel its power; if I set it down, it drifts into the past quite easily.

Strangely, this works for me with this book.

Here is my review.

Trevor wrote: "As I sat to skim the book again in order to write my review, I was amazed to find myself brought back into Lucy Barton's story in such a powerful way. It's much better than I initially thought, tho..."
Thanks, Trevor. Your comments helped to clarify for me my own thoughts on My Name Is Lucy Barton. Memorability is usually one of my main criteria for assessing fiction, and I now understand better why I enjoyed and was touched by Lucy Barton and why I also struggle to remember it.