A Spool of Blue Thread

“So ‘this house’ really meant ‘this family,’ it seemed. The two were one and the same.” 

The Whitshanks are inextricably tied to their house. For their patriarch, Junior Whitshank, the house represents class and quality, thus making the house a reflection of trait he wants his family to emulate: quality and steadfastness.

‘“—but that’s nothing compared to what happens when a house is left on its own. It’s like the heart goes out of it.’” 

The Whitshank patriarch, Junior, manipulated the house’s previous owners to obtain it. He, along with his kin, treat the house as if it’s a living, breathing member of the family. When they suffer, the house suffers, and vice versa.

“Or had they noticed a hidden crack somewhere—a sharp exchange or an edgy silence or some sign of strain?” 

The Whitshanks have never met their next-door beach neighbors. Ultimately, they’re afraid of reality being so much different than what they imagine, and they also wonder how others perceive them, to the point of inactivity.

‘“Don’t you think everyone’s got some kind of…injury?”’ 

Though the Whitshanks often speculate on why Denny turned out as uncaring and aloof as he did, Jeannie upbraids him by saying that everyone probably has a reason to be sad or upset about something. Despite this, the mature thing is not let it drive you to injuring others.

“She also reminded herself that some of our connections are brand-new connections, unrelated to our past incarnations—new experiences to broaden our horizons.” 

Abby struggles with change, especially change that signals her getting older. One such change is the addition of Stem’s wife, Nora, into her life. Instead of getting annoyed that Nora doesn’t need her help, she turns the situation into a positive one by learning from a trying situation.

“Red was of the opinion that instantaneous death was a mercy, but Abby wanted goodbyes.” 

Red always seems practical in his interpretation of life. For starters, his parents were killed instantaneously when their car stalled on train tracks. Abby, however, loves connection to others. A death where she can say goodbye is her idea of “putting her affairs in order.”

“Oh, weren’t human beings self-deluding?” 

Despite knowing how death works, Abby wishes that she could live forever to see her family’s lives play out, even though this is something that even a child understands is impossible, Abby still holds on to the supposition doggedly.

“One thing that parents of problem children never said aloud: it was a relief when the children turned out okay, but then what were the parents supposed to do with the anger they’d felt all those years?” 

Though Abby and Red always argue about parental culpability regarding Denny, confusion and anger like this strangely fuels the lives of parents by giving it energy and meaning. Once that anger abates, they no longer have a purpose. 

‘“Well, you know about time. How slow it is when you’re little and how it speeds up faster and faster once you’ve grown. Well, now it’s just a blur.’” 

Abby visits a gerontologist for her blackouts. Despite her mounting anger at her kids treating her like a doddering old woman, Abby concedes that time is a blur for her now, which is a far cry from the feeling one has of time standing still as an optimistic child.

“There was something disjointed about all of them, something ragged and out of alignment.” 

The Whitshanks take on characteristics of their house, as time goes by. They are linked to their house, and as their house ages and needs repair, so too do the Whitshanks. They can easily fix the house, but they find it increasingly harder to fix themselves.

“What if heaven is just a vast consciousness that the dead return to? And their assignment is to report on the experiences they collected during their time on earth?” 

Though the Whitshanks aren’t religious people, the Reverend at Abby’s funeral suggests that life is all about collecting stories that are then shared with others in heaven. This concept aligns with Abby’s worldview, where stories define and connect people and families.

“Red just gazed at her miserably, his eyes so empty of light that he seemed almost sightless.” 

Abby was the heart and soul of the Whitshank family unit. With her gone, the heart of the house is gone. Red, like a house, can’t seem to turn on his lights now that Abby is gone. His being “sightless” is symbolic of a house with no warmth or light.

‘“Oh, Lord, isn’t it strange how life sort of…closes up again over a death.’” 

Amanda astutely comments on this while she and Jeannie pack up the family’s belongings before selling the house. Despite the heavy blow of Abby’s death, things slowly getting back to normal is also off-putting.

“Abby had a special fondness for people who tried to hide the damage.” 

Abby always takes in strangers at home, meaning that she invites people to the house who are often down on their luck. It’s later revealed that, when younger, she loved bad-boy types who tried hiding how hurt they were because she liked trying to fix them, meaning damaged people have always been a social project for her.

“She often had the feeling that he might be modeling himself after some ideal—some illustrious figure from his past that he had admired.” 

Even Abby can tell that Junior Whitshank, despite all his money, is a poser. His clothes are ill-fitting, and he seemingly harkens back to an older, more traditional time. His attempt highlights the deceptive, transient nature of nostalgia. Despite his wanting to emulate an illustrious past, his past is far from illustrious.

‘“I really believe that most people who seem scary are just sad.’” 

Abby makes this astute observation to Red’s mother, Linnie Mae, in reference to her racism. While the literal context concerns Linnie Mae’s fear of those with less economic and social capital that her, it more broadly illustrates that people generally fear those trapped in situations they assume they themselves have escaped.

‘“I went sailing over the edge of a cliff, and I squeezed my eyes tight shut and braced for the shock. But the funny thing was, I kept sailing. I never landed’” 

Merrick’s life, though often portrayed comically, is an embodiment of the family’s aspirations. Merrick, the blunt, social-climbing member of the family, just sails through life, both in her dream and in reality, not acknowledging that somewhere, perhaps far enough below her to never feel it, is the bottom.

‘“Sometimes, ‘she said,’ it seems to me there’s just these certain types of people that come around and around in our lives, know what I mean? Easy types and hard types; we run into them over and over.’” 

Linnie Mae Whitshank breaks people down into two distinct groups. This distinction highlights both her simplicity and her seemingly preternatural understanding of people, especially as it’s later revealed that her simple country nature hides a determination that kept her one step ahead of Junior in orchestrating their relationship.

“It was the woman who set the tone.” 

A Spool of Blue Thread is a work of Women’s Fiction, which is a genre that highlights women’s issues. Though much of the narrative details men as movers and shakers, the women in the narrative hold far more power.

“He was past shame; he told her straight out, not trying to look popular or successful or worldly-wise.” 

This is one of the only times that Junior isn’t portrayed as scheming or concerned with what others think. As a younger man, he exuded a raw ambition that eschewed ostentation, which is why his later obsession with the rich confuses Abby. Due to life’s machinations, Junior morphs into a man obsessed with his shortcomings.

“Oh, the terrible, crushing, breath-stealing burden of people who think they own you!” 

Junior can’t get rid of Linnie Mae, despite wanting to. They haven’t seen each other in five years, yet the fact that she waltzes into his life like this makes him feel trapped and owned. Moreover, her presence slowly suffocates him. 

“Wasn’t it interesting how the grain of the wood told a story, almost—how you could follow the threads and be surprised at how far they traveled, or where they unexpectedly broke off.” 

The Whitshanks own a construction company, and their lives follow the materials they often work with—wood. Like the wood they craft into something beautiful for others, stories craft people’s lives and reveal hidden, beautiful, and strange facets of everyday life.

“They walked into the house. Their lives began.” 

Despite all that Junior and Linnie Mae face before they move into the house on Bouton Road, when they move, it’s as if they begin living for the first time. Not much of what transpired before their move-in is known by their children and grandchildren, as if nothing before the house can possibly define them.