The novel Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout, which won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2009, presents a picture of life in the small coastal town of Crosby, Maine. It has an unconventional structure for a novel: instead of a plot that develops in the course of the novel, with a climax and resolution, it is structured as 13 separate, but interrelated short stories.
At the heart of the novel, and providing the thread that connects the disparate stories, is Olive Kitteridge. A retired schoolteacher, Olive is a complex, contradictory figure who provokes conflicting feelings in the reader. The central character of some of the stories, whilst only making a fleeting appearance in others, her character is gradually developed from a range of perspectives.
The first story, ‘Pharmacy’, focuses on Henry, Olive’s long-suffering husband, rewinding in time to his day working as a pharmacist in the neighbouring town, and his (platonic) relationship with his assistant, Denise. Henry is captivated by Denise’s youthful innocence and delight in life – which provides a contrast with his wife’s cynicism – and this is then transformed to a profound sympathy for her and desire to help when her new husband is tragically killed in a shooting accident.
This story introduces the reader to Olive, and the first signs are not promising. The first mention of Olive comes with the statement that Henry feels obliged to keep an eye on Olive to check that she ‘did not bear down too hard on [their son] Christopher over a homework assignment or a chore left undone’. Olive’s first comments on Denise are disparaging: ‘”Mousy”, his wife said, when he hired the new girl. “Looks just like a mouse”’. When Henry suggests that he invite Denise and her husband – also called Henry – for dinner, Olive dismisses the idea: “’Not keen on it”. Henry’s love for Olive is never in doubt, but he holds back because he senses that ‘she had a darkness that seemed to stand beside her like an acquaintance that would not go away’.
As the reader moves through the stories they experience other bruising encounters with Olive: her dislike of Christopher’s wife, Suzanne; her difficult relationship with Christopher; her impatience with Henry; her awkwardness around young children; her bluntness that borders on rudeness.
But running alongside these, the reader is confronted with other more positive aspects of Olive: her compassion, her perceptiveness and the fact she doesn’t avoid difficult conversations.
In ‘Pharmacy’, Olive answers the phone when Denise calls to tell of the death of her husband: ‘[Henry and Christopher] heard Olive’s voice in the next room: “Oh, you poor child,” she said, in a voice Henry would always remember – filled with such dismay that all her outer Olive-ness seemed stripped away. “You poor, poor child.”’
In the following story ‘Incoming Tide’ Olive recognises that something is amiss with a former pupil, Kevin Coulson – he is just sitting in his car on the dockside staring out to sea – and her decision to get into his car and talk to him averts a likely suicide attempt.
That ability to connect with those who are in a dark place in their lives is also seen in ‘Starving’ where Olive has an emotional encounter with an anorexic teenage girl, Nina:
‘[Olive] looked at Nina, and said quietly. “I don’t know who you are, but young lady, you’re breaking my heart”.
“I’m not trying to,” Nina said, defensively. “It’s not like I can help it.”
“Oh, I know that. I know.” Olive nodded. “I taught school for thirty-two years. I never saw a girl sick like you, it wasn’t around then… But I know from all those years with kids, and – and just living –” Olive stood up, wiped crumbs from her front. “Anyway, I’m sorry.” She started to move away, stopped when she was near the girl. Hesitantly, she raised her hand, started to put it down, then raised it again, and touched the girl’s head. …she slid her hand down to the girl’s bone of a shoulder, and the girl – tears creeping from her closed eyes – leaned her cheek on Olive’s hand.
“I don’t want to be like this”, the girl whispered.’
Alongside these moments, the reader is also made aware of the dark events that have shaped Olive’s life: a father who killed himself, and the death of a married colleague with whom she had fallen in love (and who appears to have felt the same for her), though the relationship was never consummated.
This unfinished business which haunts Olive and which seems to contribute to the ‘darkness’ that Henry recognises around her may also link to Olive’s unashamed confessions of hunger. In ‘A Little Burst’ Olive is lying on the bed in the spare bedroom at her son and new daughter-in-law’s house, with the wedding reception still going on in the garden. Olive thinks longingly of ‘the piece of blueberry cake’ she has managed to stash into her handbag that she is desperate to go home and eat. She also suggests to Henry that they stop at Dunkin’ Donuts on the way home. Olive’s unsated appetite acts as a metaphor for her unresolved griefs and sorrows.
But as the following exchange with the anorexic Nina shows, Olive is aware that everyone is hungry:
‘”I’m starving…” Olive said. The girl looked at her. “I am,” Olive said. “Why do you think I eat every doughnut in sight?”
“You’re not starving,” Nina said with disgust.
“Sure I am. We all are.”
“Wow,” Nina said quietly. “Heavy.”’
As Nina notes, there is something very profound about Olive’s comment. And Olive is not the only character who uses food to fill a metaphorical hole. In ‘Ship in a Bottle’ Julie Harwood has been ‘dumped’ just before her wedding by her fiance. Desperate to help her distraught daughter, her mother suggests a number of distracting activities, including cooking – and eating – pancakes and oatmeal cookies. Julie refuses to cooperate, but her half-sister, Winne, her junior by 10 years, willingly volunteers – perhaps feeling that she can help her beloved older sister by doing so.
Inspired by Winnie’s enthusiasm, I decided to make some oatmeal cookies, throwing in chopped dark chocolate to add a bit of luxury.
CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
Ingredients (makes 12):
100g soft unsalted butter
150g soft light brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
100g plain flour
½ teaspoon baking powder]
½ teaspoon salt
125g oats
75g chopped dark chocolate
Method:
Beat the sugar and butter together until light and fluffy. Beat in the egg and add the vanilla extract.
Stir in the remaining ingredients to make a stiff dough, and roll out on a lightly floured surface to make a long snake shape. Divide the mixture into 12 equally sized pieces, and roll each piece into a ball with lightly floured hands.* Place the balls well apart on a lined baking sheet and place in the fridge for 30 minutes (approx).
When you are ready to bake the cookies, preheat the oven to 200C / 180C fan / Gas mark 6.
Bake the cookies for 12-14 minutes. They will still be soft at this stage but will harden slightly on cooling, though a well-baked cookie will be soft and chewy.
*At this stage the cookies (some or all of them) can be frozen. Simply place in a freezing bag, and cook from frozen (for 16-18 minutes) when you feel so inclined.
