She was struck with the extreme ease with which lives could be damaged, destroyed.
Generational stories with deep character are Elizabeth Strout’s specialty. Who can forget the curmudgeonly yet caring Olive Kitteredge, for whom she won the Pulitzer Prize, or rural Amgash Illinois’ diverse population (Anything Is Possible) who are bound together by the most common yet unexpected of circumstances? I was therefore willing to suspend my ambivalence about this novel said to explore the secrets of sexuality that jeopardize the love between a mother and her daughter. It sounded too predictable, yet I doubted my instinct to pass it by. Though not a regrettable decision, it was time I could have spent better. The secret of this single mother raising her beautiful teenaged daughter is as obvious as the foamy brown river snaking through the industrial town where she lives a lonely and anxious existence. Her obedient daughter’s biggest secret has a more interesting twist though, more interesting even than her surprising friendships.
Despite the transparent plot, I like Strout’s depiction of Maine in the Seventies, a place we both knew well. Women wore pantyhose to work in the August heat, Sundays were for church, and the Catholics and Congregationalists viewed each other with detached suspicion. Over the course of 300 pages, Isabelle’s coworkers at the mill are transformed from one-dimensional paper cut-outs to human beings with relatable personal problems and a gift for empathy that has been lacking in Isabelle’s life.
This 1998 story was made into a 200l Oprah Winfrey Presents made-for-TV production, but I’m not surprised it never made it to the big screen. Watch the trailer and decide for yourself.