Olive Kitteridge is a retired math teacher and the wife of a pharmacist, she is the character who holds together this set of 13 linked stories set in a small Maine coastal town. A big woman, she’s like a planetary body, exerting a strong gravitational pull. Several stories put Olive at the center, but in a few she makes only a fleeting appearance. It’s no coincidence that the weakest stories are the ones in which she is merely mentioned. Without her, the book goes adrift, as if it has lost its anchor. Olive is a no-nonsense type who speaks her mind. She isn’t a nice person. As one of the town’s older women notes, “Olive had a way about her that was absolutely without apology.” Olive’s son puts it more bluntly. “You can make people feel terrible,” he tells her. She dismisses others with words like “hellion” and “moron” and “flub-dub.” After swapping discontents, she says to a friend, Always nice to hear other people’s problems.” But as the stories continue, a more complicated portrait of the woman emerges. Olive may hurl invectives at her son, but she also loves him, almost more than she can bear. Her husband is a kind man and she loves him too, although she has trouble expressing it. She’s prone to “stormy moods,” as well as “sudden, deep laughter,” and she harbors a sense of compassion, even for strangers.
In one story, Olive bursts into tears when she meets an anorexic young woman. “I don’t know who you are,” she confesses, “but young lady, you’re breaking my heart.” “I’m starving, too,” Olive tells her. “Why do you think I eat every doughnut in sight?” “You’re not starving,” the girl replies, looking at this large woman, with her thick wrists and hands, her “big lap.” “Sure I am,” Olive says. “We all are”. It takes extraordinary presumption to say this to a girl who is starving to death, but from Olive the remark seems well-earned. Because the main thing we learn about her is that she has a remarkable capacity for empathy, and it’s an empathy without sentimentality. She understands that life is lonely and unfair, that only the greatest luck will bring blessings like a long marriage and a quick death. She knows she’s been rotten; she has regrets. She understands people’s failings — and, ultimately, their frail hopes. The theme that unites these 13 stories, I think, is the beauty and preciousness of life, even when life is cruel and capricious.
The book, of course, is beautifully written but some of the stories work better than others. One of the very best is the last when an elderly Olive, widowed and disappointed by her son, finds a new connection with another elderly village-dweller. The first story, about the unspoken longing of a good man for a younger woman, is also very strong.
Other stories work less well but the book as a whole is never less than entrancing. If I were to voice one criticism, it is that the author has a tendency to move her characters around like pawns on a chessboard to make her point. There's a lot of violent death in this book, probably more than one would expect in such a community. People are killed off quite casually so that other may have interesting thoughts and reactions to their deaths. All in all I found this book very readable and the Olive character unforgettable. I strongly recommend it.

Una bella storia, ambientata subito dopo la 1° guerra mondiale. La storia di 3 donne (una madre, una sorella, una moglie), le cui vite si intrecceranno per pochi giorni, alla ricerca della tomba dei loro amati. Il dolore e la speranza le uniranno in questa ricerca e spalancheranno il loro cuore alla misericordia e al perdono. Il racconto del loro vissuto ci fa conoscere altri tristi aspetti della Grande Guerra.

La vicenda di Leonardo Vitale ucciso da Cosa Nostra nel decembre del 1984 è l'emblema della Sicilia: il medico l'ha curato o ha accelerato la sua malattia? E a quale scopo? Tutto il libro si attorciglia intorno a questa domanda che rimane senza risposta
Nei precedenti libri che ho letto Contrada dice di Vitale " Anche senza Buscetta già Vitale ci aveva illustrato come era organizzata Cosa Nostra"
Falcone lo liquida invece con "Vitale un pazzo che praticava la coprofogia"
Pareri discordanti...
Nel '93 Gaspare Mutolo confessò di avere ucciso Leonardo Vitale per ordine del Capo Totò Riina " La sua morte è stata decretata perchè si sapeva che aveva deciso di collaborare"
Nel '82 era stato istituito il 416/bis la legge per i pentiti di cui Vitale non aveva potuto usufruire, ma nell'84 quando lo uccisero forse le sue dichiarazioni potevano avere un seguito.
Della legge Rognoni La Torre comunque ne usufruì il suo assassino che ora è uomo libero.