When Father Doesn’t Know Best

Even the patched-together community of mutual concern that is the hallmark of a Patchett novel is, here, far from perfect. The act of altruism outside the Jesse Jackson lecture, for instance, is not as selfless as it seems. And even though Doyle genuinely loves his sons, the adoption isn’t strictly generous: “Right from the beginning Doyle saw the little boys as a fresh start, a chance to do a better job. It was remarkable in retrospect, seeing as how Sullivan was at that point still more than a decade away from complete ruin.” This is a family where people remember each other’s errors, accuse each other falsely, nurse imagined rejections, look away from the proffered hand. Perhaps you know a family like that.

What makes Run so moving is that Patchett’s characters, for all their monstrous flaws, are also full of goodness, genuinely doing the best they can. They love each other, and in the end they are capable of coming together when communion is necessary. “We should have been allies,” Doyle says wistfully to Sullivan. “But we’re not,” Sullivan shoots back. And then, miraculously, they somehow find their way to a small understanding, to a new point of shared commitment. To name what unites them—to each other, to Kenya and to Tip and Teddy—would be a spoiler, but it’s classic Ann Patchett. And a worthy successor to Bel Canto.