BUG HOLLOW

After a tragedy, the fortunes of a California family unfold in unexpected ways.

It’s the mid-1970s when the curtain rises on architect Phil Samuelson, his schoolteacher wife, Sibyl, and their three children, Ellis, Katie, and Sally. Ellis, who will turn 18 that summer before college, heads off with a couple of friends for a week-long road trip but does not return on schedule, sending his parents only a few brief letters assuring them that he’s fine and begging them not to track him down. As it turns out, Ellis dies so early in the book it seems no spoiler to say it, and his death will be quickly followed by another shock: He left behind a pregnant girlfriend. With a structure reminiscent of Ann Patchett’s Commonwealth (2016), Huneven moves among her characters and over the next four decades to set up and spring all the surprises she has in store, occasionally leaving California to trace developments in spots as far-flung as Saudi Arabia and Oaxaca, and eventually requiring the services of 23andMe and the legalization of same-sex marriage to make all the many pieces fall into place. As someone aptly describes the central couple, “Oh, Phil’s lovely. His wife, though, is a prickly thing. But isn’t that always the case: the easygoing marry the prickles because who else would have them?” Yes, Phil is easier to love than Sibyl, and daughter Sally is quite a bit more appealing than her older sister, Katie, but Huneven is good at unlikable characters, making them fully three-dimensional while stopping far short of sappy redemption. Another of her signature elements, alcoholism, is in the mix as well, appearing via a deep green tumbler of “Hawaiian Punch” clutched in the hand of a major character and two cases of beer drunk daily by a pair of minor ones, retired civil servants and would-be swingers who run a donut shop in the middle of nowhere. Gotta love that.

A deeply satisfying novel; Huneven’s best work to date.