I adore the author Ann Patchett. I have read every one of her books and will eagerly purchase her newest novel, Whistler.
When writing a novel, Ann Patchett begins at the beginning. She has said that the most difficult part for her is the opening line; after that, the rest of the story flows. I assert that she is a genius at crafting opening lines and here are a few of her best.
From Tom Lake: “Emily is tall like her father, strong enough to hoist full lugs all day long.”
From Truth & Beauty: “The thing you can count on in life is that Tennessee will always be scorching hot in August.”
From Bel Canto: “When the lights went off the accompanist kissed her.”
If forced to choose my favorite Patchett novel, it would be her seventh, Commonwealth, published in 2016. The book’s opening line is decidedly fabulous: “The christening party took a turn when Albert Cousins arrived with gin.”
Patchett refers to Commonwealth as her “autobiographical first novel,” borrowing from her own life by writing about her own parents’ divorce and blended family. Although she never lived in Virginia, the novel is partially set here — that’s right, our Commonwealth — where the main character Franny and her older sister must move when her mother remarries a man with four children. (Yes, the man who brought gin to the christening party.) Perhaps Patchett acquired her talent for writing a perfect opening line from her mother, who, when she was asked about her daughter’s partly autobiographical novel, quipped, “None of it happened, and all of it is true.”
Commonwealth begins in the 1960s at Franny’s christening party and follows her family for 50 years. As the life events and choices of the 10 main characters unfold, you’ll find yourself nodding in approval as often as shaking your head in disbelief. The characters are beautifully written, and I think of them occasionally, almost as if they are still in place — each with the struggles and joys of their own circumstances. I even catch myself wondering how they are doing. (Admittedly, I’ve read the novel four times.) There is loss, grief and frustration as each family member’s story is told. But what family doesn’t have its share of life’s disappointments? This is not a sad novel; situations resolve, relationships mend, all cocooned in Patchett’s beautiful descriptive passages. She vividly captures the scent of California orange trees and the fuzziness of childhood memories. The dialogue is equally strong: “What you have to remember about your mother is that she didn’t have her own character. She turned into whoever she was sitting next to.” Or, “Half the things in this life I wish I could remember and the other half I wish I could forget.”
I will likely cover Patchett’s newest book, Whistler, in an upcoming review. For now, gather clues about the novel from its opening line: “‘Old guy,’ my husband said in a low voice, his lips touching my ear. ‘Near the exit sign.’”
