Whistler
I thought I just ate too much crap.
Holidays are free days. When I throw off the reins and eat whatever I want. Potato chips especially. Felice buys those Kettle Sea Salt ones. Actually, they’re always in our house. She has amazing self-control. She can eat just a few, and she does this every day. Me? If I start, I don’t stop until I’m satiated.
Although I knew we were going to Gregg and Monica’s later, so I held back, and then they had the same chips there! Along with some tortilla chips, which now outsell potato chips, did you know that? Kind of amazing, like Modelo being the best-selling beer in America. Funny how people hate so many ethnicities, but they LOVE their food.
And there was some fried chicken and bowtie pasta, something else I avoid except on special occasions. And I was satiated, but full to the brim, when the pie and ice cream was served. Oh, what the hell. It’s a holiday, right?
And I’m sitting there watching the fireworks… The San Fernando Valley might be the best place in America to view them, because all across its expanse people are setting them off for hours. Actually, the highlight was a set of drones creating a picture of the American flag over Burbank. And we’re sitting there discussing the state of our nation and then…
Suddenly I didn’t feel so well.
We had to leave.
And when we got home I prayed to the porcelain goddess. And drank some Sprite (the sugar free kind, it’s almost as good as the real thing, although the 7-Up version tastes better), since it’s supposed to settle your stomach, and then I got into bed where I started to shiver and shake, cold as f*ck, trying to gear myself up to throw off the covers and put on some clothes, which I ultimately did, but still unable to sleep I got up, went into the living room and cracked Ann Patchett’s latest, “Whistler.”
I guess I’m wary of someone whom everybody loves. You can’t find a single person to say anything negative about Patchett, and women start to rhapsodize about “Bel Canto”…
Furthermore, she owns her own bookstore in Nashville, and every Friday on TikTok she talks about books, saying “If you haven’t read this book, it’s new to you.” That endeared me to her. Because if you’re not hip to a record, people castigate you, but Ann is saying right up front that it’s all right to be out of the loop.
The first of her books I read, “State of Wonder,” I didn’t get. I don’t mean it was bad, but Patchett’s books always get great reviews, and this was not satisfying. There was plenty of plot, something lacking in too many well-reviewed books, but somehow it didn’t hook me. And I’ve read better out in the wilderness writings.
Then again, that’s the thing about Patchett. She’s not hoity-toity, I wouldn’t exactly say she’s middlebrow, but she’s not lowbrow and not highbrow. As in she’s not playing to the reader and she’s not trying to impress the reader either. Meaning her books are very readable, they tend to cut like butter.
And I found “The Dutch House” to be great. Loved the concept. People move and change, but the house they grew up in remains the same, containing all your memories.
“Tom Lake” had less gravitas, but the summer setting and the summer stock theatre, the light feel resonated with me. The disconnection into your own world.
So I was going to read Patchett’s latest, “Whistler.”
But first I dove into “John of John.”
This is author Douglas Stuart’s third book. The debut, “Shuggie Bain,” was a sensation. The follow-up, “Young Mungo,” was not as well-received, but “John of John” has gotten great reviews, however…
One of the main themes of “Shuggie Bain”…
Let’s just say homosexuality played a big part. And when “John of John” started the same way…
Now I know this makes me look homophobic, so I’ll double down. When a highly reviewed book is set in Africa or India… I’ve learned to be hesitant. Oh, I’ve read a number of these books, and they’ve been great, but so many I’ve started and just haven’t been able to get into. Maybe it’s because I can’t relate. Then again, I’m always wondering if reviewers are bending over backwards to be inclusive. And what women want is not always what I want. A lot of description and…women seem to tolerate a lot of stuff I won’t.
Not that you can say any of this out loud. I’m caught between the left and the right. Then again, can I say that trans women should not be allowed in women’s sports? Oh, there are some where their strength makes no difference. As for said strength, you have to start taking hormones before you’re a teen for there to be a level playing field, and science isn’t even so sure about that. But that’s a litmus test. You’re either with us or against us. You’re either an enlightened Democrat or you’re a backward, heinous Republican. Of course Trump and his cronies have tilted the scales far in the wrong direction, but on many issues you can’t even have a discussion on the left.
So there you have it. I’m biased.
But I’m reading “John of John,” and so much is in Gaelic. And it wasn’t so easy to read, and my eyes were rolling into the back of my head, so I decided to crack “Whistler,” which I just got.
Now if it had just been an issue of too much food, I’d feel fine today, two days later. But I’m still not on an even keel. So rather than go into the salt mines, I laid on the couch and finished “Whistler.”
I’d like to say I enjoyed the last half of the book as much as the first, but…
This is a small story. But almost all of us are living small lives. And those living big lives are oftentimes so busy impressing this upon us that it seems they lose the intimacy of every day activities where no one but your immediate circle is paying attention, knows your stories.
And these stories are what glue us together.
I grew up in a house of five in a split level and in retrospect, I feel like I lived through a war. Daphne never has kids and this is one of the reasons, her upbringing. I wonder if that played into my decision too. I guess I wanted to escape the paradigm.
But her younger sister Leda goes the other way, she has children and she becomes a therapist. And at this point, therapy is seen as kind of a joke, kind of like rehab. Cross a line and they send you to jail for a while and then you return supposedly fixed. There’s no focus on what you learn there. But therapy when done right….
Most people are putting up a front, they’re afraid if there’s a crack in the facade they’ll be judged. But beneath the surface…
And there’s a lot beneath the surface in “Whistler,” as there is in all family stories. And oftentimes you’re not exposed to the details until decades later, when you’re an adult.
So what we’ve got here is a story of seemingly well-adjusted adults who’ve coped with a lot of what seems routine today, but really is not.
Like the fallout of divorce.
Now Daphne opines that their mother’s remarriage and subsequent birthing of two boys makes her more independent. But the girls she teaches in school… The emotional cost of divorce is understated and underrepresented.
And actually, there’s a gay theme in “Whistler” too. Which enhanced the story as opposed to detracted from it. Didn’t bother me in the least. But I’m through trying to prove I’m not homophobic, at least in my reading habits.
So if you pick up the book you’ll find the picture of a horse on the cover. This is Whistler. I don’t think I’m giving too much away. But Whistler’s appearance, and the story surrounding him, is the weakest part of the book. You could say it was integral, but it was in his story that the book dragged the most.
So if you’re a fan of Patchett, dive right in.
If you’re looking for a summer beach read that is not lightweight drivel, that has some substance, this is better than the overplotted tomes.
“Dutch House” and “Tom Lake” were better, but “Whistler” is worth reading.
@parnassusbooksnashville It’s Friday, summer is nearing, and Ann has a classic read for your beach trip this year. Get your copy of Far from the Madding Crowd at the link in bio! #backlistbooks #summerreads #booksellerrecommends #indiebookstore #shoplocal


