A group of familiar characters cluster around an almost-romance between writer Lucy Barton and lawyer Bob Burgess.
Strout’s latest novel is essentially a collection of stories, many of them shared by Lucy and Olive Kitteridge, who somewhat arbitrarily set this plotline in motion by telling Bob, “I have a story to tell that writer....I wish you would have her come visit me.” Lucy relocated to Crosby, Maine, with her ex-husband, William, during the pandemic, conveniently bringing together the people and backstories from most of Strout’s previous fiction. Among those returning with new chapters in their histories are Bob’s brother, Jim; sister, Susan; and ex-wife, Pam; along with his current wife, Margaret, a local minister who may be ousted by a parishioner whose defining quality is that he sleeps during services. The parishioner’s motive is never specified, which suits the overall tone of a novel anchored in the central premise of Strout’s work: “We all are such mysteries.” When Olive asks Lucy with irritation what the point of one of her stories is (readers may be wondering the same), Lucy answers, “People and the lives they lead. That’s the point.” A murder case in which Bob is defending a man accused of killing his mother offers the only firm closure here; more typical is another twist in the long-running issue of who was responsible for the death of Jim and Bob’s father, which culminates with the declaration, “No one will ever know.” Even Bob’s growing attraction to Lucy, though it reaches a crisis, subsides without definitive resolution. Strout’s tenderness for her characters and her belief that love is the only force in human lives as powerful as our essential loneliness are as moving as ever. But this all seems like very well-plowed terrain.
Strout’s many fans will love this sweet, rambling tale. More critical readers may feel it’s time for her to move on.