For many readers, including myself, a new novel from Ann Patchett is cause for celebration. Make it a novel about family relationships across time, with Patchett’s distinctive flair for conversational prose, and you’ve got a summertime read to treasure.
Whistler opens as Daphne Fuller and her husband, Jonathan, are strolling through New York City’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. Jonathan notices a man following them, and it turns out to be a former stepfather of Daphne’s — a man named Eddie Triplett. Daphne hasn’t seen Eddie for nearly 45 years, ever since Eddie divorced Daphne’s mom when Daphne was 9. Daphne still blames herself for the divorce, which happened shortly after Eddie and Daphne were involved in a harrowing car accident on a snowy road.
What follows is a tender account of the family’s past, including secrets, misconceptions, and traumas both major and minor. We view Daphne’s younger years through the retrospect of her middle-aged eyes, as well as through Eddie’s, her mother’s, and her sister Leda’s.
“Childhood never leaves us,” Daphne reflects. “We seal the room up and cover it in sheetrock. We dry and sand and paint, but the pocket of history remains. And sooner or later, someone always winds up tapping on the wall, commenting on the way it sounds strangely hollow in there, and then the whole thing comes tumbling down.”
Eddie’s reappearance in Daphne’s life awakens long-suppressed memories of the accident that cemented their love for each other. It’s told through a dual timeline that also reveals the story of a horse named Whistler, and the reason for the title and the horse on the cover. As numerous critics and the author herself have quickly made clear, however, this is decidedly not a “horse book.”
Whistler is sentimental without being schmaltzy, feel-good without being boring or vapid. It’s the story of how a single moment can change everything. It’s about the importance of people caring and believing in you — even, and perhaps especially, as a child. It’s about grief, forgiveness, second chances and the power of storytelling. And it’s classic Patchett.
