The family as a sealed unit, with an imperious grip on its members through the twin traps of heredity and environment, is the subject of [Searching for Caleb]…. The Pecks, a well-to-do Baltimore clan, are skillfully traced from the founding father down four generations to the single young descendant. The shape of the family tree, as one character notes, is a diamond. Outsiders brought in by marriage do not thrive: the insular Peck personality, a mélange of mediocrity, loyalty, emotional evasion, and impeccable respectability, smothers them or drives them away. In a wry reversal of the thesis that "you can't go home again," Searching for Caleb asks instead whether you can ever really get away. The Peck renegades, after the trauma of breaking family ties, are left passive, dry, and remote—still dominated, it would seem, by the tyranny of chromosomes.

Anne Tyler's tone is understated, ironic, and elliptical, which suits her characters well. Searching for Caleb rarely gives us heights and depths of emotion or the excitement of discovery, but it does offer the very welcome old-fashioned virtues of a patient, thoughtful chronicle. (p. 28)