verbatim: Run

At first I wasn't going to read Ann Patchett's latest novel, Run, because I'd heard it wasn't as good as Bel Canto or The Magician's Assistant or all the others, and I didn't want to be disappointed. Then it occurred to me that even a lesser novel by Patchett is better than most everything out there (yes, I've said the same thing about Richard Russo—it's true!).

No, Run is not Bel Canto, but it's still a thoroughly enjoyable and engrossing read. This time we're in Boston, and former mayor Bernard Doyle has lost his wife to cancer, leaving him with their two adopted black sons, Tip and Teddy (of course). Oh, and there's also Sullivan, Doyle's oldest son, who is the black sheep of the family and is ... well, who knows where he is these days? Doyle daydreams that one of his sons will follow in his footsteps, but so far Sullivan is a lost cause, Tip is completely wrapped up in his ichthyology studies, and Teddy just might be thinking about joining the priesthood. One snowy night Doyle drags Tip and Teddy out to hear Jesse Jackson speak, and afterward a black woman also walking out of the speech pushes Tip out of the way of a speeding SUV and is hit herself. Her young daughter is left on the side of the road wondering what just happened. This event sets in motion a series of revelations that will bring many changes to the Doyle family. Without giving anything away, I found the plot at once contrived and believable. Patchett is that good.

So, no, I wasn't swept away by this book, but neither was I willing to put it down until I'd reached the conclusion (a completely satisfying if unsurprising one). Patchett writes with such grace and heart that it's just pure pleasure to read what she has to say about families and politics and race and class and loyalty and doing the right thing.