The gathering is a joyous occasion full of couples “laughing and talking too loud” that quickly goes awry, as parties often do, after Fix innocently steps out to replenish the provisions.
The couple is celebrating the christening of their second child and younger daughter, Franny. The Southern California home in question belongs to Fix Keating, a cop, and his “bone-crushingly beautiful” wife, Beverly, whom Patchett later compares to Catherine Deneuve. The book begins with a house party - and, as “Bel Canto” fans might recall, Patchett sure knows how to create a maelstrom when she hands her characters booze. When I say “Commonwealth” (Patchett’s, not the author’s) is a certifiable hoot to read, that’s really just an understatement. This conflicted ickiness - and so much more - is the backbone of Ann Patchett’s seventh work of fiction.
It’s an uncomfortable feeling, right? Maybe mixed with a little guilt? After all, who spilled all those fodder-worthy stories in the first place while playing naked footsie beneath the sheets?
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