Warning: This is a review site and from time-to-time (although I try to avoid it)
there may be some spoiler information in my reviews.
Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout
Short Summary:
At times stern, at other times patient, at times perceptive, at other times in sad denial, Olive Kitteridge, a retired schoolteacher, deplores the changes in her little town of Crosby, Maine, and in the world at large, but she doesn’t always recognize the changes in those around her: a lounge musician haunted by a past romance; a former student who has lost the will to live; Olive’s own adult child, who feels tyrannized by her irrational sensitivities; and her husband, Henry, who finds his loyalty to his marriage both a blessing and a curse.
My Review:
I’m always a little bit intimidated when I pick up books stamped with a little gold seal that proclaims them a winner of the Pulitzer Prize. When I look at that little sticker a little voice inside of my head tells me: “You better like this book because people a whole lot smarter than you found it to be amazing”.
Then I start to read, and as I read I have arguments with myself. I go back and forth with thoughts.
Well, it really is quite beautifully written.
Yes, but it’s so incredibly depressing!
Well, I think she’s attempting to show us human nature?
Yes, but are we all that depraved? Is it natural for people to be so unhappy?
And so on and so forth. And so, as I closed OLIVE KITTERIDGE (and at the risk of sounding like I’m a complete idiot who just doesn’t get what those uber-smart Pulitzer Prize awarders get) I have to tell you that this book holds the honor of being in the top ten more depressing books I’ve read.
Elizabeth Strout says in an interview at the end of the book that one of the reasons for the short stories was to give us, the readers, a break from Olive Kitteride – and for that I will be forever grateful. Sure there were parts of Olive’s personality that reminded me of women and men in my life, but as a whole package I found her to be one of the most horrifying specimens of humanity I’ve read about.
The redeeming factor in this book was a character by the name of Henry Kitteridge. The first story introducing Henry had my heart softening toward the book and toward Olive – and it wasn’t until Henry began to fade into the background that I started to feel strong surges of anger toward Olive.
So for me – the book was just simply “okay”. I did not feel as if I learned anything profound from it. I walked away feeling depressed and wondering if an outsider looking in at us would see us so hopeless. I wanted to believe that these stories were meant to show us the endurance of the human race – but instead I saw just how pathetic we are.


















