I’ve read a bunch of Ann Patchett, so when her new one came out I bought it (note here, a signed first edition). This is a good book, but I didn’t love it as much as I wanted to, although it is incredibly well written and fresh.

The main character here had three “fathers,” with a mother who married three times. This examines her relationship with all three, but mostly dwells on the middle one, her favorite, who she runs into at the Met after 45 years. Some of the narration is in present day, and some of it is of stories from the past. These two were in a car accident together which bonded them, and that is the main story, but also there is a bizarre story within that story, about a horse, name Whistler.

There is childhood bravery here, and ingenuity. Also there are comments from a sister who is a NYC therapist, who says that the fortunate childhoods are the ones where the parents largely ignore the kids. This supposedly makes them resourceful and able to separate in a healthy way; it is best when they are left to solve their own problems. “The children you should worry about are the ones who are the singular light of their parents’ lives,” where the parents depend on them for their own sense of identity.

Although the book ends well, there were some detours through chemo and some weird discussions about death that I could have done without. For that reason, I only give Whistler four stars.