Strout has a way of taking people and turning their quirks into a deeper look at pur shared humanity. No matter how different, we see that they are all just struggling along, trying to find themselves and live their own truth. As always, parts are not easy to read. Another great story.

I’ve never particularly liked Olive Kitteridge. I’ve known her in passing for more than ten years, but I’ve never really <i>liked</i> her: Olive’s too blunt, too judgmental, too free with her opinions, and too school marmish for my tastes. Since I’m among friends, I’ll admit that Olive even strikes me as foreboding: her height, her angularity, her total lack of vanity all leave me uneasy, and I’m always afraid that she’ll direct her formidable intelligence on me.

But now that Olive and I are both undeniably in old age, I thank Elizabeth Strout for helping me to understand Olive so much better. Oh, I still don’t really like Olive, but now I understand her better and I feel more sympathetic towards her. Frankly, I feel for Olive: for her yearning for her son Christopher, for her physically and emotionally distant grandchildren, for Henry and Jack, her two husbands who she outlived. I understand Olive’s humiliation at the indignities of aging: her fall, her heart attack, her leaving her and Jack’s house and moving into the Golden Bridge Rest Home, her social isolation there. I understand Olive when she recognized <i>”with a horrible whoosh of the crescendo of truth: She had failed on a colossal level. She must have been failing for years and not realized it. She did not have a family as other people did.”</i> And most of all, I understand Olive when she admitted that <i>”<b>I do not have a clue who I have been. Truthfully, I do not understand a thing.</b>”</i>

It’s not only Olive that I now understand better. It’s also that unexceptional Dennis Pelletier, who I always thought a little dull: it turns out that he loves — loves — loves his plain wife, who he’s been with since high school, yet he still thinks about that beautiful and brainy Dorie Paige. She went off to Vassar and killed herself right after graduation: can you imagine Denny still thinks about her, fifty years later? And I even understand Suzanne Larkin better. Yes, she’s the one with that rich SOB father who thought he was better than the rest of us. Suzanne’s mother is in the Golden Bridge and never lets go of Snuggles, the stuffed dog that Suzanne loved when she was a little girl. And what about Andrea L’Rieux, who went from being just another Frenchie to being poet laureate of the U.S., but still looks miserable and lonely?

<i>Olive, Again</i> is, simply, marvelous: it’s a novel of remarkable and radical empathy, in which Elizabeth Strout imagines and lays bare the indignities, the horrors, the sadness, and occasionally the unexpected joys of aging. <i>Olive, Again</i> looks deeply into the deep and dark abyss of old age and shines a light on it. Not since Philip Roth’s later novels has an American novelist so honestly dealt with aging: for Roth, it was men; for Strout, it’s women. I know that there’s little justice in literary prizes, recognition, and sales, but if there’s a just literary god, Elizabeth Strout deserves widespread recognition for this remarkable novel.

I would like to thank Random House and NetGalley for providing me with an e-copy of this novel in exchange for a review.

With the accolades and popularity of Olive Kitteridge I understand the pressure to put out a sequel, but unfortunately Olive, Again doesn't deliver. The first book was poetic and vibrant with amazing characters and it's truly one of my favorite books. Olive, Again, however, read like the follow-up treatment to the HBO limited series. Will most people like the sequel, probably. Is it something I'll recommend to friends, doubtful - which is a total bummer.

Thanks yous go to NetGalley and the author for this ARC of Olive, Again. What a gift!

I've been a fan of Olive Kitteridge for years, and recently re-read that book in anticipation of this sequel. I am happy to report that Olive does not disappoint. While the books can be read as stand alones, a true fan will want to read them back to back.

Olive, Again follows a similar path of collected stories, quirky characters and poignant vignettes. Olive is aging. She faces the world with her trademark stoicism and brutally honest observations. Yet we find her showing signs of introspection, attempting to understand those around her. Olive is an interesting character, one who confounds others, one who turns people off. And Olive is the one who people talk to when they feel compelled to share their private stories. Olive is the one people can be real with.

Maybe that is what draws us to Elizabeth Strout's writing. The chance to be real. The opportunity to see that others share our ponderings and our worries.
Maybe we read good writing like this so that we make sense of our world.

I received a free ARC of Olive, Again from NetGalley in exchange for an unbiased review.

Strout revisits her character Olive Kitteridge in her latest work. Olive is older, but still feisty and opinionated - qualities that do not always endear her to those around her. And, once again, Strout allows numerous personalities of other Maine residents to have their moments of introspection and reflection, loss and growth. Strout's work could never be described as breezy or light; in can, however, be described as human and multi-dimensional. In many ways, Strout's characters can only be appreciated by someone older, someone with disappointments and a lifetime of personal growth and acknowledgements of personal failure.

Olive's husband, Henry, has died and it is a rather remarkable thing that she has found love again with Jack. Jack is a widower and both he and Olive have their regrets. The key here is that these two and other characters just keep moving forward, doing their best as age and all its indignities become more a part of their daily lives. For Olive it is sometimes hard to get past her long-held prejudices and her petty grievances, many of which are more symptomatic of her lonely nature than her stubborn personality. The one Olive is most disappointed in is herself.

Although Strout mostly reveals characters who are contemporaries of the now elderly Olive, she occasionally has Olive interacting with far younger people. Here readers will find that the self-doubt of living and growing and interacting with others is not unique to any age group or gender. For all, it's two steps forward, one step back.

Olive, Again is not for everyone since it's a deeply personal journey that readers will go on with Olive.

Copy furnished by Net Galley for the price of a review.

Olive Kitteridge is a difficult woman, formidable and even harsh at times.  One who says what she thinks and lets the chips fall where they may.  It would be fair to say she is not universally liked, referred to by some as "that old bag".  The indignities of aging are front and center.  In her 80's now, Olive reflects on the effect of bad memories that follow you through life, profound loneliness, becoming invisible.  These interwoven stories carry with them an intimacy, a kind of melancholy beauty tinged with regret.

I loved Olive Kitteridge when I read it, and wasn't sure what to expect with this sequel. Elizabeth Strout is a wonderful writer, and she did not disappoint. I loved that she used the same format--short chapter vignettes about different residents of the small town of Crosby, Maine, where Olive pops up and we see different facets of this retired math teacher. Everyone has a story, and Strout is a consummate storyteller; we learn of people's marriages, families, friends, loves, deaths, aging, and loneliness. I really didn't want this novel to end. Highly recommended.

Olive Kitteridge has been my all time favorite fictional character for the last ten years. The novel, which I read at least once a year, remains one the funniest, heartwarming, and honest character driven novels ever. Olive Again did not disappoint. This was truly such a wonderful opportunity to go back and visit an old friend. Watching Olive find her way through her latter years was nothing short of amazing.. she was still the same old Olive, abrasive, honest to a fault, yet kind, sensitive and lonely.
Elizabeth Strout has never disappoints. She remains one of the very best fiction Writters ever. It is my hope that she is, as I write this working on a new novel. I cannot thank you enough for my advance copy. And yes I will certainly recommend it to all my friends and family

I found the stories to be disjointed and Olive to be rather abrupt at times sometimes down right mean.

Goodreads review 6/26/19

4.5 stars for me.

Oh, Olive! In Olive, Again, she ambles through town and reflects on aging, on her life and especially memories of moments that together shaped her life’s direction, her attitude, her viewpoint—and those of the people close to her. Because it is Olive, these are not saccharine snippets of wisdom from an elder, but the moments are sometimes sour, sometimes regretful, sometimes heartbreaking, but often lovely in their rough honesty. I could spend days reading about her introspection and her gruff and straightforward ways.

Through Olive and other connected characters in Crosby, Maine, we see lives laid bared of secrets, pain, disappointments—and we also often get to witness true joy emerge during honest and unexpected connections with others, although thankfully Strout doesn’t make any of it too easy or perfect.

I love that Olive, in what seems to be a combination of unintentional and intentional acts, alienates anyone relying on interactions built around small talk or niceties like talking about the weather. Yet she cuts to the heart of tough situations and sits within the pain of them without shying away.

I worried that a book revisiting Olive would feel indulgent or unnecessary, but this is a deep look at aging, intimacy, love, disappointment, renewed hope, betrayal, and redemption. Strout is truly a marvel in the way she crafts full, complicated lives through sharing small moments. I just love it all!

Read Olive Kitteridge for context before picking up this one.

I received an advanced copy of this book from Random House through NetGalley.

I love it when a novel/character who has stayed with me for years gets a sequel! Elizabeth Strout wrote Olive Kitteridge about 10(ish) year ago and I was so excited to dive back into her world once again in Olive, Again!

From the beginning of Olive, Again it felt trying on a pair of your favorite jeans in fall after a long summer! I immediately felt the force of nature that is Olive Kitteridge!! Olive is older and wiser and it seems although she still spews cutting remarks (sometimes appropriately, sometimes not) there is more self-awareness that has come with age. I really appreciated the subtle, none the less major transformation in Olive. I felt Elizabeth Strout did a wonderful job writing Olive in a more senior stage of her life and if Olive Kitteridge hadn’t wormed her way into your heart in the first book, this installment will most definitely accomplish that! Olive, Again is a 5 star novel that does not disappoint!

Elizabeth Strout is such a keen observer of human nature, of our shared condition and she reminds us that life is full of a struggle of some kind for pretty much all of us. In Crosby, Maine you’ll find characters dealing with loneliness, infidelity, alcoholism, sickness, aging, death, regrets, so many regrets. Thankfully, there also is friendship and love and empathy that Olive Kittridge finds within herself to give, because the truths about life are dauntingly sad at times. More than once I stopped between stories to take a breath. This is Crosby, Maine, the small coastal town where our old friend Olive Kittridge lives. In reality it could be anywhere, but of course it wouldn’t be the same unless Olive was there. She’ll tell you exactly what she thinks about you in brutally honest words. She’s not the best wife or mother and honestly she can be pretty brash, but it becomes obvious, though, that in spite of the things she says she cares. I found at times her softer side, her more vulnerable side that aren’t alway evident. I can’t say I liked Olive very much when I started reading [book:Olive Kitteridge|1736739], but by the end of that book I realized how many people she had positively impacted as a teacher and as a neighbor. And by the end of this book, I thought how lucky some of these characters were to have Olive in their lives and I felt for Olive as she endures her own challenges.

As in the first book, Strout skillfully weaves separate stories together, with Olive as the thread, but these books for me felt like novels. On the one hand it’s Olive’s story as she reaches her seventies and eighties . She’s older and maybe a little more self aware, but always trying to understand herself. She’s the center of a number of the stories and we come to know more about her as she comes to know more about herself. Some of the stories will give you that gut punch, when Olive comes to painful moments of recognition about her family, her friends and acquaintances and of course herself. In some of the stories she makes a real connection and engages with another character and only makes an appearance in others. Crosby and this book are populated with realistic characters, including Olive who are filled with fears, flaws, frailties that are easily recognizable in ourselves. What can I say about the writing, other than its impeccable. I felt the pull of these characters from the opening lines of pretty much every story. Strout is a fabulous story teller and is on my list of favorite writers. I definitely recommend that [book:Olive Kitteridge|1736739] be read first in order to fully appreciate the place in her life where Olive has come at the end of this book.

I received an advanced copy of this book from Random House through NetGalley.

Another beautiful story by one of my favorite authors. She always gets right to the heart of humanity in all of her writings. She could write about Olive until the cows come home and every story would be beautiful.

The first time I read Olive Kitteridge I didn't really know what to make of her. I loved discussing the book and Strout's writing is always just so good but I didn't enjoy Olive at all. Flash forward to Olive, Again and I am older and Olive is older and I totally came to love her. The characters are all so real and all so fragile and all so Maine. I couldn't put this book down and was so disappointed when it was over.

A welcome fictional return to Crosby, Maine where we revisit its residents, most notably Olive Kitteridge. Olive is still blunt and cantankerous, yet increasingly self-aware as she faces the challenges of aging and of changing relationships. As a reader, I was again pulled into Olive's mind and world, fascinated by her evolution and by the experiences of Strout's other vividly drawn, sometimes heartbreaking characters. A solid four stars from me, with thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

So much fun to visit Olive again. Elizabeth Strout does a wonderful job bringing Olive up to date, along with characters from some of her other books (The Burgess Boys). Highly recommended for her many fans!

Elizabeth Strout’s novels are deceptively simple, straightforward narratives that become more and more layered as they progress. Olive is a feisty, honest character who emerges as more and more interesting each time she appears in this book. The novel is constructed as a series of (sometimes loosely) linked narratives that create a depth of characterization and narrative as they build on each other. This is a quiet and moving novel, and I loved reading it.

There are few authors who create characters as memorable as Olive Kitteridge and her Maine neighbors. This book explores the issues related to old age as part of Olive’s later years, it is a lovely opportunity for the reader to revisit this extraordinary character.

Strout takes the opportunity to peek into the lives of some of the characters from her earlier novels. Since I am a huge fan, I was thrilled to see Jim and Bob Burgess again, and catch up on their lives. My favorite of all her novels was “Amy and Isabelle,” and despite the fact it was written in 1998, I was delighted to reconnect with Isabelle and learn about their lives.

It is amazing that a reader can get excited about characters 20 years after their appearance, Strout has certainly given us some of them.

Yes, it is painful to explore aging with Olive, but Strout portrays the process with frightening realism. The reader is spared no part of the process. Although this is a sad time in Olive’s life, it is also a time of reflection and understanding.

Strout brings closure to Olive, but also to the lives of her Maine neighbors. Since I was so intrigued by many of them, I truly enjoyed this book. Thank you Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this exquisite jewel.

I have always loved Olive Kitteridge as a character and a book and while the book came out 10+ years ago it has stayed with me. What a lovely surprise to see that there was a follow up. In some ways I was nervous about reading new stories but that fear slipped away very quickly. Fell into this book and had to make myself slow down to read each vignette and think about-savor. Readers of the original will not be disappointed. Those who are just meeting Olive, i believe, will want to go back and get to know her earlier self a little better.

Olive Kitteridge — gruff, direct, honest and with absolutely no patience for pretense or pretentiousness. Some people love Olive for just this reason — many others consider her a rude “old bag”. I love the fact that Olive — in her late seventies now — continues to have epiphanies about herself and her life.

The book is a collection of snapshots of life in the coastal town of Crosby, Maine. Some are centered on Olive herself, but in others she plays only a peripheral, though impactful, role. Ranging in age from middle school to elderly and incorporating contextual situations such as drug use, sexual harassment, suicide, Somali immigration, and even the value provided by a dominatrix (!) — the stories are full of introspection and reflection. They are more about how people absorb experiences into their own perspective, rather than the experiences themselves.

Strout is the master of the imperfect relationship — no closure, no solutions — just the reality of evolving relationships with ups and downs and fresh interior “ahas” rather than the drama of abrupt discovery via loud confrontation.

For those who loved Strout’s 2008 work Olive Kitteridge, Olive,Again takes up where the latter leaves off, covering the next decade of Olive’s life (it’s not necessary to read the first book, this one stands up well on its own). It’s a fascinating look at life from the perspective of old age, and while there is loss and plenty of “old age indignities,” there is also a great sense of hope, understanding, and wisdom.


Great Quotes:
“It seemed to her she had never before completely understood how far apart human experience was.”

“And then he thought: how does one live an honest life?”

“It’s just the way it was, that’s all. People either didn’t know how they felt about something or they chose never to say how they really felt about something”

“…and during the night they would shift, but always they were holding each other, and Jack thought of their large old bodies, shipwrecked, thrown up upon the shore — and how they hold on for dear life!”

“What frightened him was how much of his life he had lived without knowing who he was or what he was doing. It caused him to feel an inner trembling, and he could not quite find the words — for himself — to even put it exactly as he sensed it. But he sensed that he had lived his life in a way that he had not known.”

“But it was almost over, after all, her life. It swelled behind her like a sardine fishing net, all sorts of useless seaweed and broken bits of shells and the tiny, shining fish — all those hundreds of students she had taught, the girls and boys in high school she had passed in the corridor when she was a high school girl herself, the billion streaks of emotion she’d had as she’d looked at sunrises sunsets, the different hands of waitresses who had place before her cups of coffee — All of it gone, or about to go.”

“Because as her heart became more constricted, Henry’s heart became needier, and when he walked up behind her in the house sometimes to slip his arms around her, it was all she could do to not visibly shudder.”

“Cindy Coombs, there’s not one goddamn person in this world who doesn’t have a bad memory or two to take with them through life.”