Book Review: Lucy by the Sea

Synopsis:

Elizabeth Strout again turns her exquisitely tuned eye to the inner workings of the human heart, following the indomitable heroine of My Name Is Lucy Barton through the early days of the pandemic.

As a panicked world goes into lockdown, Lucy Barton is uprooted from her life in Manhattan and bundled away to a small town in Maine by her ex-husband and on-again, off-again friend, William. For the next several months, it’s just Lucy, William, and their complex past residing together in a little house nestled against the moody, swirling sea.

Lucy by the Sea vividly captures the fear and struggles that come with isolation, as well as the hope, peace, and possibilities that those long, quiet days can inspire. At the heart of this story are the deep human connections that unite us even when we’re apart — the pain of a beloved daughter’s suffering, the emptiness that comes from the death of a loved one, the promise of a new friendship, and the comfort of an old, enduring love.

Lucy by the Sea is about a divorced couple stuck together during lockdown — and the love, loss, despair, and hope that animate us even as the world seems to be falling apart.

Review:

New York Times bestselling and Pulitzer Prize-winning author Elizabeth Strout brings back Lucy Barton, the enduring character she introduced in My Name is Lucy Barton. She appeared again in Anything Is Possible and Oh William!, the book she had barely completed when the COVID-19 pandemic began. “Lucy and William were just so much in my head. I thought: OK, let’s have him take her up to the coast of Maine, and stick them on this cliff and see what happens,” Strout says. She emphasizes that making the setting different than that of Oh William! was a specific choice. In Oh William!, they are in a more northern, inland part of Maine. In Lucy by the Sea, they are “literally by the sea which is a very different sort of vibe. . . . I pictured them at the end of a point high up on a cliff in a house. And there they are.” The two novels “work together,” she adds. “I see them as a continuation of each other,” even though Strout never intended to write a series of books featuring the same characters. “But these people are so real to me that I keep wanting to write about them in their new situations or where they might be now, so I just keep going back to them.”

Strout and her fictional heroine have a great deal in common. They are the same age, Lucy is also a novelist, and they have both been married twice. Strout has an adult daughter (while Lucy has two, Chrissy and Becka). It’s a case of art imitating life as Strout and her husband permanently relocated from Manhattan to Brunswick, Maine, during the pandemic. “We share many traits, but I’m not her,” Strout stresses, adding that she really doesn’t care about what people think, “so if people think that, that’s fine. But it is not true.”

Once again, the story is related in Lucy’s distinctive voice. In typical Lucy style, the narrative is somewhat disjointed, repetitive, stuttering, and awkward. But it is also honest, raw, and deeply insightful. The novel is crafted much like a series of diary entries, with Lucy, now sixty-six years old, relating what happens to her and her seventy-two-year-old ex-husband, William Gerhardt. He is a parasitologist to whom she was married for twenty years, but they have been divorced for nearly as long. In the interim, Lucy was happily married to David, a cellist, who died, and William has been married and divorced twice, most recently from his much younger third wife, Estelle, with whom he has a daughter, Bridget. In Oh William!, they journeyed together to Maine after William discovered via an ancestry website that he had a half-sister, Lois Bubar, residing there. William also learned that his mother’s life had actually been much different than he had been led to believe. Although Lucy met Lois, William’s half-sister had no desire to meet or interact with him. Two months after they returned from Maine, Lucy agreed to travel to Grand Cayman with William, believing that he “must have been plunged into some sort of midlife crisis, or older man crisis,” considering all that he had recently been through — divorce, Estelle taking ten-year-old Bridget to live with her, and being rejected by Lois. After their three-day vacation, they returned to New York and Lucy embarked on a book tour to promote her new novel.

But she disappointed her publisher by canceling a trip to Italy and Germany that was scheduled in early March 2020. Which is when William begs their daughters, Chrissy and Becka, to leave their Brooklyn homes, and convinces Lucy to return with him to the little town of Crosby on the coast of Maine where he has rented a house from Bob Burgess, the ex-husband of the woman with whom William had an on-again, off-again affair for years while married to Lucy. Lucy relates that she, unlike her scientist ex-husband, was unable to predict what the world was on the precipice of experiencing and reluctant to leave the city. She packed only a few things, thinking she would be spending just a couple of weeks in Maine, returning to New York City when things improved. At the outset, readers will identify with Lucy’s bewilderment, confusion, and naivete about the potential severity and length of the pandemic that was just beginning. “I did not know that I would never see my apartment again. I did not know that one of my friends and a family member would die of this virus. I did not know that my relationship with my daughters would change in ways I could never have anticipated. I did not know that my entire life would become something new.”

The book details the events that unfold as the world goes into lockdown, the virus claims lives, teleworking becomes the norm for millions, and isolation takes a heavy toll on relationships. Chrissy and her husband, Michael, an asthmatic, escape to his parents’ Connecticut home (they are staying in Florida), but Becka, a social worker, and her husband, Trey, an adjunct professor of poetry at New York University, opt to remain in Brooklyn. Both end up working at home.

Lucy shares her innermost thoughts and feelings as she and William settle into a house she does not like in a place that she deems far too cold. She is restless and has trouble concentrating, so finds herself unable to read books or write. She naps every afternoon and feels disoriented when she awakens. She and William spend a lot of time taking walks — separately and together – because there is little else for them to do in that remote location while completely isolated. They also become addicted to watching the news to hear about the latest developments. But like so many people, Lucy is unable to fully comprehend what is happening, even as the Surgeon General issues dire warnings and Broadway goes dark. Not all locals welcome New Yorkers, which frightens Lucy.

Lucy describes having always felt invisible in the world and the ways in which living in isolation with William exacerbates her anxiety, especially her worry that her daughters might catch the virus and not survive. But she develops a close friendship with Bob Burgess, who is now married to Margaret, a minister. They take frequent walks together and have meaningful conversations. Lucy is flattered to learn that he has read her book and heartened to realize that he truly understood it. She feels seen which is so important to her. His company eases the loneliness she feels, particularly since William often seems distant, not really listening to her. She especially misses David who seems “even more gone to me somehow.” She does not speak of mourning David because William likes to fix things, but “grief is a private thing.” Lucy understands that grieving is a solitary experience that must be endured alone.

Gradually, Lucy comes to see that “William had been right to bring me up here,” and they fall into a comfortable routine that includes enjoying meals that William prepares, taking drives, and hours-long conversations. And hear about the challenges Chrissy and Becka face from afar, unable to be with them in person to lend support. Lucy misses her daughters viscerally, sometimes feeling abandoned and convinced that Becka, in particular, is avoiding her. But she’s grateful for William’s ingenuity and resourcefulness as he finds ways to assist their daughters remotely.

William reveals life events that he has not previously shared with Lucy or their daughters. They grow closer, referring to each other by the nicknames they used when married — she is “Button” and he is “Pillie” — but William still gets on Lucy’s nerves from time to time. She is genuinely touched when he tells her, with great emotion, “Lucy, yours is the life I wanted to save. My own life I care very little about these days, except I know the girls still depend on me, especially Bridget; she is still just a kid. But, Lucy, if you should die from this, it would . . . I only wanted to save your life.” And Lucy rejoices with William when a disappointing situation happily resolves and is pleased that he finds new work to do in conjunction with the local university.

Still, as the days and months drag on, Lucy does not know exactly how she feels about William, even though she observes that, at times, “I am not unhappy.” For her, it is “weird to be with William — except that it wasn’t always weird” as they live together in a sort of limbo, wondering when they might be able to return to New York and how long it will be until things get better. In the summer, they watch news accounts of George Floyd’s murder and worry about the protests taking place around the country. People they love get the virus and some survive, while others do not. Lucy suffers physical symptoms of stress, but eventually begins venturing out a bit more, which helps her state of mind. The Presidential election takes place in November 2020, they watch in horror as the U.S. Capitol comes under attack on January 6, 2021. (“There was deep, deep unrest in the country and the whisperings of a civil war seemed to move around me like a breeze I could not quite feel but could sense.”) At last, the COVID vaccine becomes available in early 2021. Strout effectively demonstrates the various ways in which external happenings penetrate the metaphorical cocoon to which Lucy and William have retreated, and the ways world events intrude upon and impact Lucy’s already fragile psyche.

As the world slowly begins returning to some semblance of normalcy, Lucy makes momentous decisions and is surprised by the choices William makes. Lucy continues engaging in introspection about their lives and everything that led to their being in isolation together in that quaint house on the Maine coast.

Lucy by the Sea is another rich meditation on relationships, family, the impact of isolation, and importance of connectedness. Strout again brings Lucy and William to life with seemingly effortlessness, imbuing everyday occurrences with symbolism and meaning. Her writing is deceptively simple and sneakily impactful. She examines the ways in which their relationship endures over time, despite the pain they have inflicted on each other through the years. Strout also illustrates their daughters’ reactions to their parents spending time together and the evolution of their long relationship, as Chrissy and Becka endure their own life-altering traumas. In Lucy by the Sea, both daughters are now fully grown young women living their own lives, and Strout deftly shows both the ways in which the pandemic effects their lives and Lucy’s coming to understand fully that her children are now adults who “want to be heard” and design their lives on their own terms.

Strout says she sought to illustrate that during the pandemic lockdowns, “there was no time, all the days just melded into one. I was trying to get that sense of disorientation on to the page.” Although she maintains that was the hardest part of writing the book, she succeeds beautifully. Lucy by the Sea proceeds at a steady pace yet feels a bit untethered and meandering, just as life felt during that surreal era because of both the pandemic and the growing divisions among U.S. citizens. When Lucy finally finds inspiration for a new book and resumes writing, she worries that her story cannot be published because of the subject matter and the ideology of her main character. For Strout, that was “a real commentary on the times that we’re living in.”

Strout observes that Lucy is now, like her daughters, fully grown up. And she at last realizes that she is, like her daughters, being fully heard. She asks herself questions and contemplates issues that she would not have had the maturity to address previously. Strout says that was not a conscious choice on her part. “I am trying every second that I’m writing to be inside Lucy’s head. . . . I concentrate as deeply as I can to think, ‘What is it like to be Lucy right now?’” And Lucy continuously surprised her as she was penning the novel.

Once again, Strout has crafted a straight-forward, but deeply affecting, contemplative story featuring beloved characters whose decisions and choices will be as surprising to readers as they were to Strout as they appeared on the pages. Lucy by the Sea is poignant, thought-provoking, and relatable on numerous levels. It is another masterfully crafted novel from one of America’s best storytellers.

Excerpt from Lucy by the Sea

One

Like many others, I did not see it coming.

But William is a scientist, and he saw it coming; he saw it sooner than I did, is what I mean.

William is my first husband; we were married for twenty years and we have been divorced for about that long as well. We are friendly, I would see him intermittently; we both were living in New York City, where we came when we first married. But because my (second) husband had died and his (third) wife had left him, I had seen him more this past year.

About the time his third wife left him, William found out that he had a half-sister in Maine; he found it out on an ancestry website. He had always thought he was an only child, so this was a tremendous surprise for him, and he asked me to go up to Maine for two days with him to find her, and we did, but the woman—her name is Lois Bubar— Well, I met her but she did not want to meet William, and this made him feel very terrible. Also, on that trip to Maine we found out things about William’s mother that absolutely dismayed him. They dismayed me as well.

His mother had come from unbelievable poverty, it turned out, even worse than the circumstances I had come from.

The point is that two months after our little trip to Maine, William asked me to go to Grand Cayman with him, which is where we had gone with his mother, Catherine, many, many years before, and when our girls were small we would go there with them and with her too. The day he came over to my apartment to ask me to go with him to Grand Cayman, he had shaved off his huge mustache and also cut his full white hair very short—and only later did I realize this must have been a result of Lois Bubar’s not wanting to see him plus everything he had learned about his mother. He was seventy-one years old then, but he, kind of, I think, must have been plunged into some sort of midlife crisis, or older man crisis, with the loss of his much younger wife moving out and taking their ten-year-old daughter, and then his half-sister’s not wanting to see him and his finding out that his mother had not been who he’d thought she had been.

So I did that: I went to Grand Cayman with him for three days in early October.

And it was odd, but nice. We had separate rooms, and we were kind to each other. William seemed more reticent than usual, and it was strange for me to see him without his mustache. But there were times when he threw his head back and really laughed. There was a politeness to us that was consistent; so it was a little strange, but nice.

But when we got back to New York, I missed him. And I missed David, my second husband, who had died.

I really missed them both, David especially. My apartment was so quiet!

•

I am a novelist and I had a book coming out that fall, and so after our trip to Grand Cayman I had a great deal of traveling to do around the country and I did it; this was in late October. I was also scheduled to go to Italy and Germany in the beginning of March, but in early December — it was kind of odd — I just decided I was not going to go to those places. I never cancel book tours and the publishers were not happy, but I was not going to go. As March approached someone said, “Good thing you didn’t go to Italy, they’re having that virus.” And that’s when I noticed it. I think that was the first time. I did not really think about it ever coming to New York.

But William did.

It turned out that the first week in March, William had called our daughters, Chrissy and Becka, and asked—begged—them to leave the city; they both lived in Brooklyn. “And don’t tell your mother yet, but please do this. I will deal with her.” And so they hadn’t told me. Which is interesting because I feel that I am close to our girls, I would have said closer to them than William is. But they listened to him. Chrissy’s husband, Michael, who is in finance, really listened, and he and Chrissy made arrangements to go to Connecticut to stay in the house of Michael’s parents—his parents were in Florida, so Chrissy and Michael could stay in their house—but Becka balked, saying that her husband did not want to leave the city. Both girls said they wanted me to know what was going on, and their father said to them, “I’ll take care of your mother, I promise, but get out of the city now.”

A week later William called me and told me this, and I was not frightened but I was confused. “They’re actually leaving?” I said, meaning Chrissy and Michael, and William said yes. “Everyone is going to be working from home soon,” he said, and again I did not really understand it. He added, “Michael has asthma, so he should be especially careful.”

I said, “He doesn’t have terrible asthma, though,” and William paused and then said, “Okay, Lucy.”

Then he told me that his old friend Jerry had the virus and was on a ventilator. Jerry’s wife also had the virus, but she was at home. “Oh Pill, I’m so sorry!” I said, yet I still did not get it, the importance of what was happening.

It’s odd how the mind does not take in anything until it can.

The next day William called and said that Jerry had died. “Lucy, let me get you out of this city. You’re not young, and you’re scrawny and you never exercise. You’re at risk. So let me pick you up and we’ll go.” He added, “Just for a few weeks.”

“But what about Jerry’s funeral?” I asked.

William said, “There will be no funeral, Lucy. We’re in a—a mess.”

“Where out of the city?” I asked.

“Out of the city,” he said.

I told him I had appointments, I was supposed to see my accountant, and I was supposed to get my hair done. William said I should call my accountant and get an earlier appointment and to cancel my hair and to be ready to leave with him in two days.

I could not believe that Jerry had died. I mean that sincerely, I could not believe it. I had not seen Jerry in many years, and maybe that was why I was having trouble. But that Jerry had died: I could not get it into my head. He was one of the first people to die of the virus in New York City; I did not know that at the time.

But I got an earlier appointment with my accountant, and also for my hair, and when I went to my accountant’s office I took the small elevator up: It always stops at every floor, he is on the fifteenth floor, and people squeeze in holding their paper coffee cups and then look down at their shoes until they get off, floor by floor. My accountant is a large, burly man, my age exactly, and we have always loved each other; it may sound a little strange, because we do not socialize, but he is one of my favorite people in a way, he has been so deeply kind to me over these many years. When I walked into his office he said “Safe distance,” waving to me, and so I understood then that we would not hug as we always do. He joked about the virus, but I could tell he was nervous about it. When we were through with our meeting he said, “Why don’t you go down the freight elevator, I can show you where it is. You’ll be alone on it.” I was surprised and I said, Oh no, there was no need for that. He waited a moment, and then he said, “Okay. Bye-bye, Lucy B,” blowing me kisses, and I went down in the regular elevator to the street. “See you at the end of the year,” I said to him; I remember saying that. And then I took the subway downtown to get my hair done.

I have never liked the woman who colors my hair — I had adored the first woman who colored it for years, but she moved to California—and the woman who took over, I just never liked her. And I did not like her that day. She was young and had a small child, and a new boyfriend, and I understood that day that she did not like her child, she was cold, and I thought: I am never coming back to you.

I do remember thinking that.

When I got home to my building I met a man in the elevator who said he had just gone to the gym on the second floor but the gym was closed. He seemed surprised about this. “Because of the virus,” he said.

•

William called me that night and said, “Lucy, I’m picking you up tomorrow morning and we’re leaving.”

It was a strange thing; I mean that I was not alarmed but I was still kind of surprised at his insistence. “But where are we going?” I asked.

And he said, “The coast of Maine.”

“Maine?” I said. “Are you kidding? We’re going back to Maine?”

“I’ll explain,” he said. “Just please get yourself ready.”