海角大神

When Junior Whitshank built the house on Bouton Road, he wouldn鈥檛 allow any fussiness 鈥� no stained glass, no pretensions. The fact that he was building the house for a wealthy businessman and his wife and not himself in no way deterred the carpenter from vetoing any idea that compromised his vision of quality.

The end result was "a house you might see pictured on a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle, plain-faced and comfortable, with the Stars and Stripes, perhaps, flying out front and a lemonade stand at the curb." That house, with its long front porch, more than any other in Anne Tyler鈥檚 work, is central to A Spool of Blue Thread, It鈥檚 not a Manderley or Tara, but it serves as the same kind of touchstone to its characters, in this case representing the tantalizing promise of a happy family life that proves so illusive in Tyler鈥檚 novels.

After he completed his masterwork, Junior couldn鈥檛 bear to let it go, scraping up the money necessary to buy the home from the businessman after the businessman鈥檚 wife decided she鈥檇 rather live elsewhere. (Said wife may have had a little help coming to that decision.)

That was one of the stories the Whitshanks always told one another. Another belonged to Junior鈥檚 daughter, Merrick, a social-climber without conscience who lands her best friend鈥檚 fiance 鈥� trust fund, alcoholism, and all.

And then there was the more hopeful one that Abby, a social-worker mom who was always dragging 鈥渓ame ducks鈥� home for dinner, who would tell her four children about the afternoon she fell in love with Red, Junior鈥檚 son: 鈥淚t was the prettiest afternoon, all breezy and yellow-green with a sky the unreal blue of a Noxzema jar."

But none of the stories are quite as simple as they appear on the surface, as readers discover in 鈥淎 Spool of Blue Thread,鈥� Tyler鈥檚 20th novel and easily her most satisfying since 2006鈥檚 鈥淒igging to America.鈥�

鈥淎 Spool of Blue Thread鈥� deserves to stand among Tyler鈥檚 best writing, such as 鈥淒inner at the Homesick Restaurant鈥� and the Pulitzer-winning 鈥淏reathing Lessons.鈥� It offers echoes of her earlier works 鈥� from the use of a sudden death as a catalyst, to squabbles over the family dinner table (and who gets to make it), to the Whitshanks鈥� self-made mythology, which glosses over disappointment and recalls her summation of the Bedloes of 鈥淪aint Maybe,鈥� always and forever my favorite book by Tyler. Like the Bedloes, the Whitshanks have a 鈥渢alent for pretending that everything was fine.鈥�

鈥淭here was nothing remarkable about the Whitshanks. None of them was famous. None of them could claim exceptional intelligence. And in looks, they were no more than average,鈥� she writes. 鈥淏ut like most families, they imagined they were special.... They made a little too much of the family quirks.鈥�

Tyler, of course, has been making much of family quirks for 50 years now, since her first novel was published in 1964. The novelist, a master of the minor key, avoids fussiness in her own writing, preferring plain speech the way Junior preferred plain lines in construction. To complain that her novels always revolve around family life in Baltimore would be like complaining that Monet was overly fond of his garden.

鈥淎 Spool of Blue Thread鈥� opens when Abby and Red Whitshank get a late-night phone call from their son Denny, the black sheep, who always felt neglected even though Abby adored him above all of her children.

Wondering what to do about Denny, a college dropout with serial careers and an uncertain marital status, consumes so much of Abby鈥檚 and Red鈥檚 consciousness that the other three kids 鈥� Jeannie, Amanda, and Stem 鈥� are free to fumble their own way to adulthood.

Aside from that brief period when an interloper had temporary possession, Whitshanks have always lived in the house at Bouton Road. So when Abby starts forgetting things and wandering off on walks and Red, increasingly deaf, has a minor heart attack, the idea of an assisted-living apartment is quickly discarded.

Instead, Stem and his preternaturally serene wife, Nora, move back in to Bouton Road with their three kids. It is the 海角大神 thing to do, and therefore, Nora will do it 鈥� effortlessly infuriating Abby in the process with her command of the kitchen and her insistence on calling Abby 鈥淢other Whitshank.鈥� (鈥淚t made Abby sound like an old peasant woman in wooden clogs and a headscarf.鈥�)

If four adults, three kids, and two dogs weren鈥檛 crowded enough, then the prodigal son shows up in an unexpected display of filial devotion to take care of his parents (Denny may or may not have been kicked out of his previous place of residence). Denny鈥檚 insistence that that Stem isn鈥檛 a 鈥渞eal鈥� Whitshank 鈥� he came to live with the family as a toddler under quasi-legal circumstances 鈥� as well as Denny鈥檚 penchant for disappearing for years at a time if someone says something critical combine to render his siblings cross-eyed with rage.

In a phone call that catalogs years鈥� worth of disappearances and frozen shoulders, his sister Amanda finishes with a cry any "good kid" can relate to: 鈥淏ut most of all, Denny, most of all: I will never forgive you for consuming every last little drop of our parents鈥� attention and leaving nothing for the rest of us.鈥�

As if the present didn鈥檛 have enough family drama to fill a decade鈥檚 worth of holiday dinners, Tyler then travels back to 1959, when Red and Abby were young, and then to the 1930s, before Junior builds the house on Bouton Road. There, Tyler upends expectations about the power dynamic in the Whitshank family, as well as waging an epic and almost-wordless battle over the color of a porch swing.

The sections set in the past represent a change for Tyler. It's a departure that offers its own rewards at the same time that it takes away from the siblings鈥� stories. Tyler was never one for wrapping plots up in a tidy bow, and certain characters remain mysteries.

But the ending is vintage Tyler 鈥� one that offers the hope of forgiveness that runs throughout her work with the calming brightness of a blue thread.