"My Name is Lucy Barton" by Elizabeth Strout is intense & cheering & gut wrenchingly honest. It's one of those rare novels that gets under your skin, makes you think back to your own childhood & the relationship you have with your parents.
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For me, there were a few moments where Strout touched a nerve I didn't know was bare. I was the woman trying not to cry walking down the Marylebone Road.
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I've given this book 3.5 stars because it wasn't a 3 star nor good enough for 4 stars. I'd recommend it to most people with a word of caution.

So engaging, I read this in one sitting. Just don't tell my friends as I blamed work when really I just wanted to finish this wonderfully written, slow moving, well observed book told through the perspective of a relationship.

Deceptively light, this novel nevertheless takes itself to...not so much dark places so much as very private, very honest feeling places. It's rare that a novel actually feels unassuming yet exposes itself so fully.