Our group’s response to Oh William! by Elizabeth Strout ranged more widely than for any previous group read. The diversity of comments reflects our enthusiasm for different opinions!
I enjoyed the book and had forgotten that it was related to the earlier book My Name is Lucy Barton. I was puzzled that the author wrote so disparagingly about Maine when she had moved back there. The tales of relationships and broken lives were dismal but I was happy that I could read without making notes about the places and the people.
Initially charmed by the story, I found things went down from there. The book needs some serious editing—it has the makings of a short story. For those who like to count the characters or pages that get in the way of appreciating a story, in this case, the blame rests with the many asides punctuating the narrative.
I found that it proceeded like an oral history with the speaker reflecting on the tale as she recounted it—allowing the recorder to capture the zeitgeist along with the story. I did a simultaneous read and listen with this book and suspect that reader enlivened the text considerably. I experienced anxiety and found it emotionally challenging in places.
For a Booker prize nominee, I was disappointed. A week after I had read it, I couldn’t remember what it was about. I found it lifeless. Even though in the first person, it was more like someone making a recording, not like someone who was in the action. It lacked punch or real feelings; it was like a cipher—a nonperson. Been to Maine and was sad to hear how it had suffered as a state as I remember the beautiful small towns were quite special. William’s devastation upon discovering that his wife had left him struck a chord with a couple of members.
It seemed like a stream of consciousness slowed by repetitiousness, and it didn’t really grab my attention. I didn’t feel I had learned anything. Yes, you cannot depend on things happening and your past shapes your future but what’s new?
Initially, I thought it was quite a light read without much substance but subsequently realized it was far more complicated. One aspect of Lucy’s life that hit home for me was the impact of bizarre parental behavior on a child and how poverty complicated this further. I was left wondering why the relationship with William, so passionate prenuptially, floundered on the wedding day. What was it that drove William away? As the story unfolded, we saw enormous parallels between William’s mother and Lucy. Furthermore, we learned that rejection by women was a pattern in William’s life. However, that might explain William but what explains Lucy?
I felt the novel was full of fears, insecurities and misunderstandings and perhaps this could be the basis for the angst felt while reading it. Additionally, I was captivated by the author’s suggestion that we truly never know another—reminding me of what I learned in a psychology class, i.e., that the person exists on three levels: (1) the one shown to the world (2) the one shown only to a partner or a close friend and (3) the one shared with no one.
There may be a lot more to this book than meets the eye—I think you had to do a lot of work to get the meaning. I just didn’t get it! Despite the use of the first person, I had no sense of intimacy with the narrator. I felt “talked at”. Although Lucy Barton may be a study in PTSD, the story and the characters did not come together for me.
I liked the book a lot. I felt as though I were a close friend of these people. I found the themes interesting; (1) responsibility to others versus to self (2) family secrets (9) the impact of family secrets revealed. We are left not knowing! I thought it was a book that would stir up something in any reader. While some are staggered that it made the Booker List, I’m surprised that it did not win!
Our Rating:
