NEW YORK—Each of us has links to our past, no matter how we may try to deny them. These connections, which can resurface at the most emotionally charged times, are made clear in Rona Munro’s one-person stage adaptation of Elizabeth Strout’s novel “My Name Is Lucy Barton.”
As Lucy (Laura Linney) states at the outset, this is a tale told through the prism of memory. She recalls a time in the early 1980s in New York City when, as a struggling writer with a husband and two young daughters, she entered the hospital for a routine operation, only to develop unexpected and serious complications. Her supposedly brief stay turned into a nine-week ordeal.
