‘Life,” thinks one character in Commonwealth, “was a series of losses. It was other things too, better things, but the losses were as solid and dependable as the earth itself.” Ann Patchett’s new book is melancholy without being morose. Adultery, illness, separation, jealousy, resentment, death: She certainly doesn’t grant her characters easy passage through life. Commonwealth is a book about two families united by a foolish decision in a dim bedroom and, later, a tragedy.
Patchett is a Catholic novelist but also one with the lowercase “c.” Her plots do not have the theological sting of Flannery O’Connor, nor does she write of parishes as did J. F. Powers (or as does her contemporary, Erin McGraw). She does, though, write of nuns, as in the novel The Patron Saint of Liars (1992) and in several essays, finding that they represent what she calls the best elements of the Church: “charity, compassion, humility.” Her faith suffuses Commonwealth not so much with hope as with a sense of perseverance — and a bit of perspective.
Comments