Running into 2025 with reading books recommended by people whose taste I really trust (hi, Julia!) but I’ve been putting off for whatever reason. In this case, it’s because I had this vague sense that the book was the anti-A Man Called Ove/Iona Iverson, e.g., what if you’ve got an elderly lead character and she’s not going to have a late-in-life fuzzy-feeling reconnection with the world plot that weaves together her neighbors? And that’s just…not really my vibe, normally speaking. Honestly? It’s not…not that, and it […]
“Oh,” said Louise, laughing softly. “You came here for a nice dose of schadenfreude, and it didn’t work.” She sang, “Saaaaw-ry.”
Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout