My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Understanding that the link of parental love is not always simple and direct, Lucy Barton reflects on her impoverished upbringing. The poverty extended to an a seemingly deprivation of affection between mother and child. But while Lucy is recuperating in a New York City hospital, she receives a visit from her mother who she hadn't seen for four years.
The conversations seem stilted and cold at times. Yet Lucy understands her mother and copes with the back-and-forth comments. Lucy manages to shield her mother from her loneliness and the disappointments she has carried throughout her life.
To me, this is one of those rare books that beg for re-reading. In its outward simplicity hides the talent of the writer who uncovers the truth of imperfect love.
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