My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

It could have been a beautiful story but it isnt for me. None of the characters seem to give an impact to me, simply said they don’t matter.

Lucy was hospitalised and her mother whom she had not spoken to or met with came to visit her. And the memories shared were just small bits and pieces, and some neighbour gossips which i dont think they matter at all. What would be the significance of mentioning these people? I still don’t know who her father is, her mother still, even with her being the most important character. And who is lucy’s current husband, again?

Short flashes of memories. No emotional attachment. And then sudden fast forward to a present or future as though in a hurry to finish the book. Which i pretty felt the same. Finished the book in one setting.

Perhaps the book require the readers to ponder and think about Lucy’s experiences to fully appreciate it. But it does not gripped me as much as i expected it to be, although its a nice read.

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