Lucy by the Sea

“There was a sweetness I felt at the sight of these two islands, and it reminded me of how when I was a child in our tiny house in the rural town of Amgash, Illinois, in the middle of fields of soybeans and corn there had been one tree in the field, and I had always thought of that tree as my friend. Now, as I looked at them, these two islands felt almost like that tree had once been to me then.”

With her move to Maine, Lucy is drawn back into her rural childhood in Illinois. The islands remind her of the tree from her childhood, and they become a motif threaded throughout the novel. By leaving New York for a rural community, Lucy is able to reconnect with nature in a way that will ground her through the upheaval of the year to come.

“I watched it, believing it, I mean I knew it was happening is what I mean, but to describe my mind as I watched this is difficult. It was as though there was a distance between the television and myself. And of course there was. But my mind felt like it had stepped back and was watching it from a real distance, even as I felt the sense of horror.”

Lucy and William, evacuated safely to Maine, watch the news every night, following the details of the Covid virus in New York. Strout offers readers the perspective of New Yorkers who are deeply attached to their city, and yet find themselves watching events from a distance. Though geographically distanced, Lucy feels compelled to mentally step even further back from what is happening, and to disconnect from events that seem unreal.

“Who knows why people are different? We are born with a certain nature, I think. And then the world takes its swings at us.”

Lucy comments on her niece, Lila, who, like her, won a scholarship to college. Unlike Lucy, Lila did not find success at college and returned home after a year. Lucy ruminates on the differences between the two of them who, given such similar chances, had such different experiences and outcomes. In a larger sense, she is talking about humanity and the unknowable forces that shape us.

“But one day in the middle of April the sun came out and William and I walked out on the rocks—it was low tide—and then we walked to a closed store that was the only other building out on this point and it had a lawn near it, and there were rocks right there too, and we sat in the sun on the porch of this closed store. And we were happy.”

Lucy and William have been in Maine for about a month, and the weather has been typical—cold and rainy, much different from the weather in New York. Lucy feels dislocated, from her city, children, and friends. In this scene, however, Strout offers Lucy and William a moment of respite. However they may feel, they have begun to get comfortable in their new home.

“William said, ‘Nobody even remembers this now, but those towers are there because the threat was real.’ I did not know what to say.”

William discovers a tower on the coast that was used during World War II to look for German submarines. William, whose wealth is the result of his grandfather’s war profiteering, feels guilt and shame, and visits the tower frequently. In addition, the tower reminds him, and the reader, of how historical events, however monumental, sometimes become lost in the past.

“And then a little past the middle of May, this happened: The Second Rescue Story.”

Chrissy has called Lucy and William with the news that Michael’s parents are moving in, and do not plan to quarantine. They drive to Connecticut to confront Michael’s parents, “rescuing” their children. By giving the story a title, Strout emphasizes the fact that these stories are part of the mythology of the pandemic experience, and that many families will have similar mythologies.

“I had not wanted to wait in the very long line, as this woman was now doing. And I learned something that day. About myself and people, and their self-interest. I will never forget that I did not do that for that man.”

While waiting in line at the grocery store, Lucy, and many others ignore an old man who clearly is not in the condition to stand in a long line. One woman helps him, losing her own place in line in the process, and Lucy is confronted with her own lack of action. Strout addresses how stressful and frightening situations often reveal uncomfortable truths that we are then forced to live with.

“She spoke of her mother at length that evening, and I understood. This was Katherine’s wound. She had loved her mother dearly, and her mother had adored her. And then her mother died.”

Lucy and William are socializing with Bob Burgess and Margaret and a couple they know, which includes a woman, Katherine. Katherine talks about the death of her mother and the resulting upheaval of her family. Lucy understands that her mother’s death fundamentally shaped her; her statement about Katherine’s wound emphasizes her belief that everyone has a wound. In this sense, the wound is a tactile metaphor for emotional pain.

“It seemed far away, remote, yet for those who had friends and family die in the flu epidemic, it was as distressing to them as what we were living through now.”

Strout compares past historical events and the Covid pandemic—in this case, the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918-1919. In the cemetery, confronted with the many graves from that epidemic, Lucy is suddenly aware of the larger historical implications of current events. Strout shows, through Lucy’s ignorance, how humans seek to distance themselves from the horrors of the past.

“We don’t wear masks at church, Lucy. I have to wear one when I work, but at church we do not wear them. It’s the government trying to force us to do that, Lucy. And I know you think differently, but you are being fooled.”

Lucy’s sister, Vicky, has joined a Christian fundamentalist church and refuses to tell Lucy where she is getting her news. Through Vicky, Strout explores a segment of the American public that, in the face of the pandemic, denied its reality and forewent all mitigating measures, including masks and vaccines. Lucy worries about her sister and tries not to judge, but instead to understand, which is typical of her.

“I said to him, ‘My sister found God.’ And here’s what was so interesting to me. He looked at me, really looked at me, and then he nodded just slightly and said, ‘I get it.’ And I said, ‘Thanks. Because I do too.’ The sun came back out and then we reached the cove.”

Lucy is walking with Bob Burgess, whose friendship she finds great comfort in. Bob is both thoughtful and nonjudgmental. He seeks to understand differing perspectives, and Lucy finds an immediate connection with him.

“Because the first woman I cleaned for that morning—her name is Olive Kitteridge, and she was just sitting in her chair like a big bullfrog—and then Olive said, ‘I’ve been sitting here thinking about a young woman that I stole one shoe from once.’ And I asked her why one shoe, and she turned and said to me, ‘I thought it might make her feel crazy.’”

Olive Kitteridge is the protagonist of two of Strout’s books, and frequently appears in others. She is a part of the fictional world of Crosby, Maine. Here she enters the story, albeit through a story Charlene tells Lucy. The story reveals both Olive’s acerbic nature and dry humor. The text describes Olive with a simile, where something is compared to something else using “like” or “as.” In this case, Olive sits “like a big bullfrog.”

“The only real home I ever had in my whole life, I had with you. And the girls.”

Lucy tells William she is homesick and has no home to go to. He mentions her apartment, but without David, she realizes that it doesn’t feel like home anymore. She suddenly understands that her marriage and family with William was her only home. With this, Strout plants the seeds for Lucy’s later decision to stay with William and live in Maine with him, making it seem almost inevitable.

“And it seemed that my ping-pong ball could not touch his right now. We are alone in these things that we suffer.”

Lucy uses the ping-pong ball as a metaphor for the way in which humans bump up against each other, but cannot remain close or gain true intimacy. In this instance, William has confessed the source of his wealth, and his guilt and shame over it. Lucy recognizes that there is nothing she can do for him, that people are all faced with The Loneliness of Being Human.

“He said this to me that night, after not wanting to hear about my brother, and I remember: William does not like to hear anything negative. Many people do not. William is not alone in that.”

Strout raises the idea of looking away from negativity, of wanting to avoid, deny or erase it. Lucy recognizes this quality in William, and knows that it is common for people to feel this way. She herself feels it often as she watches events on television, but what sets Lucy apart is that she eventually confronts, explores, and tries to understand, instead of ignoring what she doesn’t want to see.

“She laughed her burbling laughter and she said, ‘Oh Lucy, don’t you sometimes just feel sorry for everyone in this whole wide world?’ And I understood then why William had fallen in love with her.”

Lucy is talking to William’s third wife, Estelle. Estelle is an actress and much younger than William. Lucy has never quite understood what William saw in Estelle, but with this exchange, she suddenly does. Estelle shows great compassion for humanity, a compassion that Lucy herself feels, and the sudden insight surprises her. Strout subtly suggests that one should look beyond the surface of other people.

“It is a gift in this life that we do not know what awaits us.”

In this instance, Lucy vaguely refers to future events in the novel. Strout has offered some very general foreshadowing to generate tension and keep the reader wondering what will happen to Lucy’s daughters and family.

“I thought about how I had looked at the floor so often watching the news. I thought about how I had just walked out of the room while the Capitol was being ransacked. I thought: Mildred, I am just like you. I look away too. And I thought: We are only doing what we can to get through.”

Lucy remembers a story from her childhood, about Mildred, who would look away from the building where her husband died each time she passed. Lucy admits that she wanted to look away, too, and had during the January 6 insurrection. This idea comes up several times in the novel—the human impulse to look away, and how Lucy cannot blame anyone for it. Lucy herself is guilty of it, but she also tries to understand.

“I thought again about how my mother—my real one—had said this to me one day. And she was absolutely right. Everyone has to feel like they matter. I did not feel that I mattered. Because in a way I have never been able to feel that. And so the days were hard.”

Lucy’s relationship with her mother was difficult, but she remembers her mother’s wisdom because of its truth—how “Everyone has to feel like they matter.” In this case, Lucy thinks about this in reference to the way her life has changed since moving to Maine. After their more solitary period, William has begun developing friendships and a career, and Lucy feels alone and neglected, beginning to wonder what she is doing there. Strout shows how one’s emotional state and self-impression informs their relationship to their surroundings.

“I could not stop feeling that life as I had known it was gone. Because it was. I knew this was true.”

Lucy contemplates returning to New York, and wonders if she will be able to do it. She is fearful of the city that was her home, fears which seem to have been amplified in the solitude of Maine. Regardless of whether she returns to New York, she knows that it will never be the same, that her life has permanently changed.

“But when we stepped into the train station, I was astonished. There was the sense of a war having occurred. One that was not yet over.”

Lucy and William have driven into Boston, where Lucy will take the train to New York City. She is surprised, when they drive into the city, how blue the skies are and how easy it is to find a parking spot. This was a common phenomenon in urban areas during the pandemic. It feels ominous to Lucy, and reminds her that, although they are emerging from isolation, the pandemic is not over yet.

“How do you even know it’s a man? It could be a woman, or a gender-nonconforming individual.’ I said, ‘It’s a woman?’ She looked at me angrily and said, ‘No, it’s a man. I’m just asking where you’ve been the last couple of years. We don’t make assumptions like that anymore.’”

Chrissy confesses to Lucy that she is considering having an affair. When Lucy questions her about it, she redirects to Lucy’s assumption that the affair would be with a man. Once again, Lucy is faced with social changes that she must absorb and try to understand.

“And when I found out I had been living a parallel life, a dishonest life, it crushed me. But I have often thought that it made me a nicer person, I really do. When you are truly humbled, that can happen. I have come to notice this in life. You can become bigger or bitter, this is what I think. And as a result of that pain, I became bigger. Because I understood then how a woman could not know. It had happened, and it had happened to me.”

In the wake of her discussion with Chrissy, Lucy remembers when she discovered that William was having an affair. Typical of Lucy, she absorbed the experience and it made her more compassionate and understanding, but she understands how she could have all too easily gone the other way. Strout highlights The Loneliness of Being Human as Lucy considers how sometimes only experience can show us how false our assumptions are.