Commonwealth

The idea of inheritance fascinates me.
What is the reverb of one family member's actions on the rest?
What traits are passed down?
What buried issues come up through the family tree?
Commonwealth digs in and explores through the different voices of the Keating and Cousins.

Per us, Ann Patchett makes magic of a sentence.

I hadn't read any Patchett since State of Wonder, and the oranges on the cover grabbed my attention in a used bookstore - there are evocative vibes of several geographical areas in the novel, including descriptions that made me homesick for the stifling humidity of Virginia in August, which is quite a feat. Both Commonwealth and my recollection State of Wonder make me slightly curious about how I'd feel about Bel Canto upon re-reading, by which I remember being totally, positively stunned. Anyway, I very much liked but did not love this. This is a novel about family culture(s), the ties that bind (or don't), and how we each have to make peace with shared history in our own ways. Patchett clearly feels great affection for her characters, which engendered empathy in me as a reader, as well, but there's something about the structure (I suspect it may be too many “main” or “main-ish” characters to invest in any one too deeply, although I appreciated the chance to view the same family tragedy from different viewpoints) that made things feel slightly cursory when I wanted more depth. My primary feeling upon finishing was gratitude for novels in general, but a hankering to re-read some Marilynne Robinson or Richard Ford, not more Patchett.

I have mixed feelings about this novel. On the one hand, once it settled into a rhythm, I enjoyed the reading experience immensely. On the other hand, it is on the whole unsatisfying because of its disjointed structure. In some ways, the book is a saga of the combined Keating and Cousins families, a kind of dysfunctional Brady Bunch where two cheating spouses contribute a total of six children the marriage that is the result of their affair, but where the ex-spouses remain in the picture for the next fifty years. But the lens is focused slightly more on Franny Keating, who in the opening chapter is a newborn and star of her own christening party. But we also settle from time to time on the other kids–her sister Caroline and also her step-siblings Cal, Holly, Jeannette, and Albie–as well as all the parents of this tribe. The book seems to have a randomness to it, which perhaps become clear near the conclusion, when Franny thinks about how things might have been different if this even had not occurred, or if that thing had never happened. One change early on and everything would have been different. Is that the point? If so, it's not particularly profound. My favorite character of the book is Leo Posen, a novelist with whom Franny has a long affair, but long before the book ends he has died and life has moved on.

In many ways, the book reminds me of Patchett's The Magician's Assistant, which had a similar feel. The direction of that book never seemed clear to me either, and yet that somehow didn't affect the joy of the reading experience.

This is a gorgeous book about a blended family, risky childhood, and adults coming to terms with their past. The things that happen aren't gorgeous themselves–in fact, some of them are awful and painful–but the contemplation of them is.

Near the end of the book there's a section that takes place in a zen dojo in Switzerland, where one of the daughters of the blended family has been living for many years, practicing meditation. It struck me that the attitude of the narrator towards the family and events in the story is that of compassionate detachment, much like the attitude you're supposed to cultivate towards your own thoughts and feelings in meditation. The attention given to some of the most painful parts of the characters' lives is unflinching, yet compassionate. It's this that gives the book its gorgeous feeling.

An unexpected kiss, and ten lives are destroyed. Or are they?

Patchett plays with the idea of how a tiny event can shape lives in this story which follows ten people over fifty years. An uninvited guest shows up at a baptism and impulsively kisses a married woman. The two divorce and marry, reshaping their own lives and the lives of their spouses and the lives of their children. But how much does the kiss really change? In the end, maybe a kiss is just a kiss....

I really struggled to get started on this one (it took me nearly 3 weeks to get around to finishing it!)

The book throws a lot of different characters at you, and I found it really hard to keep the story straight in my mind. Once I did wrap my head around it all, it's not a bad story but maybe could have benefited from being longer? Or more coherent?

This book was good but not great. I loved the idea and really enjoyed some of the characters - Albie and Franny were particular favorites. But there were just so many people, and so many perspectives, that I didn't feel attached to anyone in particular, even towards the end of the book. I liked the commentary on familial ties, and dysfunctional families.

I read this a few years ago, before I had this Goodreads account, but I wanted to add it to my have-read list. I was thinking about it because I was listening to an interview with Ann Patchett regarding her most recent book, Tom Lake. I wanted to jog my memory of this novel, and what I remember most was the unsupervised childhoods in the 1970s and 80s, and the parents who make bad(?) decisions for themselves and worse (?) for their children. In the interview I heard, Patchett talks about how autobiographical Commonwealth was ... and how fun it was to write.