LOUISE PENNY’S

Series Re-Read: A Trick of the Light

INTRODUCTION BY JAMIE BROADHURST

We all love those scenes where Gamache meets a new officer of the Sûreté and instead of overawing them he shows kindness and curiosity. It was like this for me when I met Louise Penny, the Chief Inspector of our publishing adventures together in Canada.

We at Raincoast had just signed on to help with book promotion in Canada, it was the middle of June and A Trick of the Light was publishing in August. Not much time.

I spoke briefly with Louise but confessed that I could not talk for long as I was about to go to a Father’s Day Tea at my son’s preschool. When we spoke again, the first thing she asked about wasn’t our plans to promote her, but my son and our Tea. She asked about all the children, about the dads and most importantly about the children whose dads could not attend—how did the those kids feel? It was a Gamache-like exhibition of thoughtful perception. This time we had a lengthy telephone call—we did have lots of plans to help promote Louise and I can talk about my son for a long, long time. But like that junior officer of the Sûreté, now felt I was part of something special.

That Christmas Louise sent a paint-by-numbers kit. And my son said; “Daddy, we can use this to make another world.” To my ears it sounded like something that Clara’s character would say, and like Clara would have, we have kept the paintbrush from the paint set—a lovely gift given by a remarkable woman, who knows so very much about the nature of true friendship. Someday my son will read the Gamache Series and understand even better.

RECAP

Ch. 1-9: “Oh, no, no, no thought Clara Morrow as she walked towards the closed doors.” This is how Louise Penny begins A Trick of the Light.

Clara is about to walk through the door of the ultra-chic, Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal for her vernissage, a private party where artists celebrate with friends, clients, patrons and even critics before their exhibitions open to the public. Reputations and egos are glossed not paintings. Despite the party being given for her, Clara feels nothing but dread. She has achieved her dream of a solo show at the “MAC”, but what if the critics and gallery owners hate her work?

Clara falls to the ground and it is Olivier Brulé, not her husband Peter, who gets down on the floor beside her “whether it’s on your knees or on your feet, you’re going through that door. It might as well be on your feet.” And so she gets up and we go through the door and into the novel.

The novel then moves to the Gamache family, Chief Inspector Armand Gamache and his beloved wife Reine-Marie are sitting in their Outremont apartment reading the L’Observateur and La Presse respectively. They and their daughter, Annie, are awaiting her huband, David’s arrival.

But Armand’s magazine reading is really just a stalling tactic his wife points out. He seems reluctant to rejoin his friends of Three Pines at the vernissage and to face Olivier to whom he has already apologized for his part in his Olivier’s wrongful conviction.

The real emotional center to the chapter, in my opinion, lies in the conversation between Jean Guy Beauvoir, Armand’s number two, and Gamache’s daughter, Annie, as they wait. Beauvoir thinks back to his time in hospital, after the disastrous factory raid described in Bury Your Dead , when it was Annie, not his now ex-wife Enid, who affirmed his will to live. “[Annie] had placed her hand in his and it had changed everything . . . this hand was large and certain and warm. And it invited him back.”

Jean Guy and Annie talk about the difficulty of true forgiveness and why Olivier has not forgiven Gamache.

Chapter two returns to the vernissage, beyond Clara’s crises at the door and we now eavesdrop on the reactions to Clara’s paintings from artists, critics and friends.

Armand and the art dealer, Francois Marois, are the most observant of the actual paintings on the wall and in particular the centerpiece, Clara’s portrait of Ruth Zardo as the aged Virgin Mary that we have come to know from previous books.

“Clara’s portrait wasn’t simply of an angry old woman. She had in fact painted the Virgin Mary. Elderly. Abandoned by a world weary and wary of miracles. A world too busy to notice the stone rolled back.”

Then finally at the end of the scene, with Gamache and Marois still deep in conversation the description is completed:

“But there was something else. A vague suggestion in those weary eyes. Not even seen really. More a promise. A rumour in the distance.

Amid all the brush strokes, all the elements all the color and nuance in the portrait, it came down to one tiny detail. A single white dot.

In her eyes.

Clara Morrow had pained the moment despair became hope.”

Or did she? On this question so much of the novel will pivot on many different levels.

“Maybe it isn’t hope at all” said Marois, “but merely a trick of the light.”

The major themes of are all now in place; the risks entailed by creating art, the judgement and responsibilities of the critic, what it takes to change emotionally, what it is to offer and accept forgiveness from others and finally what role can hope play in a world without easy faith. All this before the murder happens.

But we readers don’t have to wait long. After the vernissage Clara and her guests, both friends and members of the art world (not the same groups) repaired to Three Pines, the village on no map, to continue celebrating—the party goes well into the night. This is Quebec after all.

The next morning Clara is up early awaiting the return of Olivier and Peter who have driven off to pick up newspapers so she can read the critics’ verdicts. Olivier and Peter arrive with papers in hand; all the major papers have reviewed the show: The New York Times, The Times of London, The Globe & Mail and others. Clara wants to hold print editions “because I wanted to feel the newspaper in my hands. I wanted to read my reviews the same way I read reviews of all the artists I love. Holding the paper. Smelling it. Turning the pages.”

But the papers will remain untouched by Clara for most of the day. It is at this moment, Olivier and Peter and discover a body in Clara’s garden; “the red shoes just poking out from behind the flower bed.” The victim, dressed in an equally bright red dress had died quickly; someone had snapped her neck, around midnight.

Gamache, Beauvoir and Agent Lacoste who takes a bigger role in this investigation (much to the initial discomfort of Beauvoir) are back on the case.

No one had recognized the victim from the vernissage or from the after party at Three Pines. But she is soon identified as Lillian Dyson which comes as a terrible shock to Clara.

The victim had been best friends with Clara up until art school, but Lillian had turned on Clara. Lillian had savaged her in a student review, and their friendship ended. Clara never discovered that Peter played a role in all of this.

Later, as an art critic for La Presse, Lillian Dyson had gone after other artists too. She had penned a memorable blurb; “He’s a natural, producing art like it’s a bodily function” that lived on even though no one could now remember the artist at whom the barb had been aimed. Then Lillian left Montreal for New York.

Why would someone murder a now obscure art critic in Clara’s garden the night of her triumph? Who was so damaged by this now-dead acerbic critic that they would kill? The homicide team begins to interview and re-interview the gallery owners, patrons, artists and friends who attended the vernissage and the party at Three Pines, looking for motives and intent and lies and inconsistencies.

A major piece of evidence is discovered while Clara and her friends perform a smudge ceremony in Clara’s garden—they discover something the police had missed. A beginners chip from Alcoholics Anonymous, with the famous serenity poem imprinted on the back is found. Was it dropped by the murder or by the victim?

God grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change

Courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

Armand and Beauvoir must notify Lillian Dyson’s parents in Montreal and they go there to also explore more of the victim’s life. Meanwhile, Peter and Clara confront the awful truth that their marriage is also possibly dead, killed by the fact that Peter cannot accept the fact that his wife, and not he, will be the art star.

On the drive to Montreal, Gamache tries to speak with Beauvoir about his stalled recovery from the shooting in the factory and then about the end of his marriage to Enid. Beauvoir is about to tell Armand his true feelings for Annie, the woman he actually loves, but he can’t. “He opened his mouth , the words just hovering there, just opening. As though a stone had rolled back and these miraculous words were about to emerge into the daylight.” It is the same image, the stone and the tomb – referred to when describing Clara’s painting of the aged Virgin Mary and the cross above Mt. Royal.

Gamache and Beauvoir arrive at the apartment of the Lillian’s aged parents, pensioners who clearly adore their only daughter. For me this is one of the most deeply moving scenes. The description of the parents’ grief is so direct yet so contained. As she goes through the social niceties of pouring tea for her guests, Madame Dyson refers to her husband as Papa, “Would she still call him ‘Papa’ after today, Beauvoir wondered. Or was that the very last time? Would it be too painful?” That must of have been what Lillian called them”. And when they are finally told the news of the murder of their daughter; “Madame and Monsieur Dyson crossed over to continent where grieving parents lived. It looked the same as the rest of the world but it wasn’t.”

Before the Dysons descend into complete shock, Gamache and Beauvoir try to glean as much information as they can. The Dysons remember the youthful conflict between Clara and Lillian but from the other side- it was Clara who stole the ideas and confidence of Lillian and it was Clara who caused the estrangement. Their Lillian was a loving daughter who did not drink—she had returned to Montreal eight months prior and was working on making a clean start, on making amends.

Had Lillian been tricked into going to Three Pines only to meet her death? Gamache wonders. The next stop will be Lillian’s apartment. Up until now the investigation as focused on the art world, now Gamache and the squad must expand their search into another world; the half secret world of drinking and addiction.

Ch. 10-end: A diptych is art pieces designed to be displayed together where the meaning of one artwork is deepened by reference to its pair. The first half of A Trick of the Light opens with Clara Morrow’s triumphant vernissage and the electric reaction to her portrait of poet Ruth Zardo as the aged Virgin Mary. This is the painting that captivates Chief Inspector Armand Gamache and over which the international press raves. In the second half of the novel, we discover A Trick of the Light is really a diptych—it is a book about more than one triumphant piece of art and more than one newly discovered artist.

In part 1 we read about the murder of a now obscure former art critic for La Presse (a Montreal daily), Lillian Dyson, whose body is discovered the morning after Clara Morrow’s big celebration. Lillian’s body is found lying in Clara’s garden in Three Pines. The investigation soon turns upon motive and evidence—everyone in Quebec art circles remembers Lillian’s barb: “He’s a natural, producing art like it’s a bodily function” but no one can remember who the “he” refers to in the infamous take-down. An Alcoholics Anonymous beginners chip is found near the body. Was Lillian killed for authoring a savage review and will the murderer be found enmeshed somewhere in the world of AA?

While Agent Lacoste and her team comb the archives of La Presse to track down the elusive review, Gamache and his second in command, Inspector Jean-Guy Beauvoir head to the shabby apartment of Lillian Dyson. What they find there is a stash of artwork that is a revelation to Gamache:

“Her paintings were lush and bold. Cityscapes, Montreal, made to look and feel like forest. The buildings were tall and wonky, like strong tress growing this way and that. Adjusting to nature, rather than the other way around.”

And the masterpiece in the making was not of the aged Virgin Mary but a decrepit church:

“It was unfinished. It showed a church, in bright red, almost as though it was on fire. But it wasn’t. It simply glowed. And beside it swirled roads like rivers and people like reeds. No other artist he knew was painting in this style. It was as if Lillian Dyson had invented a whole new art movement.”

Soon Gamache confirms what he already suspects, that the work of an undiscovered genius may be far more valuable to the astute collector or gallery owner. The art dealer, Denis Fortin, explains:

“‘Alive she would produce more art for the gallery to sell, and presumably for more and more money. But dead?

‘The fewer paintings the better. A bidding war would ignite and the prices…’

Fortin looked to the heavens.”

In Lillian’s apartment Gamache and Beauvoir find Lillian’s copy of Alcoholics Anonymous and her meeting list. Gamache and Beauvoir will head to the Sunday night meeting—held in the same church that was the subje ct of Lillian’s unknown masterpiece. Lillian had underlined a passage in her AA book: “The alcoholic is like a tornado, roaring his way through the lives of others. Hearts are broken. Sweet relationships are dead.” We are about to enter the tornado.

So it might seem incongruous that the scene is set up through humour. Gamache meets Bob at the door: “‘I am not actually an alcoholic,’ says Gamache.

Bob looked at him with amusement: ‘Of course you aren’t.’”

Although I haven’t noted it earlier, humour glimmers in all of Louise’s books. Employing a deadpan delivery (the same way she talks in person) she wields humour in her writing to underscore some of the most serious topics.

At the AA meeting, we meet a second set of characters who will propel the story to its final conclusion: Suzanne, Lillian’s sponsor at AA, who knows Lillian’s secrets but seems reluctant to tell; Chief Justice Thierry Pinneault, who chairs the meeting—he will struggle throughout the rest of the novel to be both loyal to his fellow AA members and to uphold the course of justice; and Brian, who has killed a young child while driving drunk. He confesses: “Do you know what finally brought me to my knees? I wish I could say it was guilt, a conscience, but it wasn’t. It was loneliness.”

All three AA members find their way to Three Pines. We learn that the 12-step recovery program includes a ninth step—asking for forgiveness—and that in the final months of her life Lillian confronted those she had hurt and attempted to make amends. “Make direct amends to such people, wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.” But has Lillian been too rushed and too careless? Has she caused injury?

Agent Lacoste and her team return to Three Pines. They inform Gamache they’ve tracked down Lillian Dyson’s famous blurb and a few more bon mots. We are close to the solving the case now as well as seeing more of the character’s private lives unfold.

Gamache wades deeper into the murk surrounding the video of the disastrous factory shooting. How was it filmed and how did it leak to the public where it became an internet sensation? Beauvoir and Gamache confront one another: Gamache trying to make his colleague seek more help to recover and Beauvoir struggling to be completely honest to his patron, to forgive Gamache, and to reach out to Annie. Clara and Peter’s marriage takes a decisive turn, the ramifications of which will only become clear in future books.

The final section begins with an invitation for Gamache, Beauvoir and Agent Lacoste to attend a dinner party hosted by Clara. No one knows that this is where Gamache will confront the murderer. It will be very relaxed says Clara, “en famille.”

And then in a novel where English and French words have flowed interchangeably Louise as writer comments for the first time about the use of French word.

“Gamache smiled at the French phrase. It was one [his wife] Reine-Marie often used. It meant ‘come as you are”, but it meant more than that. She didn’t use it for every relaxed occasion and with every guest. It was reserved for special guests, who are considered family. It was a particular position, a compliment. An intimacy offered.”

The Eastern Townships is a part of Quebec where French and English language intermingle—someone might start a sentence in French and finish in English. Some people say they think in both languages. So when Louise calls attention to en famille and its full meaning the phrase takes on extra import.

I think it conveys to the reader that however this murder mystery ends, the bonds between the characters we have come to know so well over seven books will continue to change and deepen, but most importantly they will endure en famille in the books to follow. Gamache has been offered a permanent place in Three Pines.

FAVORITE QUOTE

“The skyline of Montreal was looming in the foreground now across the river. And Mount Royal rose in the middle of the city. The huge cross on top of the mountain was invisible now, but every night it sprang to life, lit as beacon to a population that no longer believed in the church, but believed in family and friends, culture and humanity.

The cross didn’t seem to care. It glowed just as bright.”

I love this passage for several reasons.

  1. I spent a January night in a hotel near the Biblioteque Nationale during a snowstorm with the old city to my left and the glowing cross on the Mount to my right. It is ethereal. It really does glow. Especially during a blizzard.
  1. The ongoing Reread discussion for Bury Your Dead has talked a lot about Canadian and Quebecois history. What Louise says in four lines captures for me the essence of the Quiet Revolution—an event that completely transformed Quebec.
  1. The cross didn’t seem to care. It glowed just as bright.” Is religion obsolete or merely obedient to a different conception of time and space than the secular world? This is subtle writing.

Suzanne’s description of why she let go of her hatred for Lillian:

“I’d held on to that hurt, coddled it fed it grew it. Until it had all but consumed me. But finally I wanted something even more than I wanted my pain.”

The epilogue provides a searing example of almost superhuman forgiveness, when Chief Justice Pinneault explains the true nature of his bond with the skinhead Brian, but when I read the words of Suzanne in the chapter prior, the psychology of her forgiveness seems more relatable and the mechanism more universal. It also sounded familiar.

I met a couple who had gone on a camping trip with their daughter. On a given day, both parents thought the other was taking care of the girl and she drowned. In the aftermath the couple stayed together but they both blamed each other bitterly until they accepted that anger and blame was completely futile. It took years. They couldn’t choose to forgive; they couldn’t will it—it had to come on its own terms. They told me this at the funeral of another child who had drowned and they hoped for the same outcome for the other grieving parents—that they could eventually surrender their mutual sorrow and feelings of guilt. Louise’s quote contains the same realism about sadness, hope and forgiveness. I suspect Louise Penny’s hope comes from hard-won personal experience.

CONCLUSION

I started my re-read with a personal anecdote about the first time I spoke with Louise and how she was so kind during our initial phone call. On that call I told her that her books have always appealed to me as love letters to Quebec and the Quebecois. I spent my summers in Quebec as a child and still have family there. I don’t get to travel to Quebec as often I would like, but I go there again and again when I reread Louise Penny. “This little village produced bodies and gourmet meals in equal measure,” says Beauvoir. And much more.

Does a Canadian read Louise Penny differently than someone else? Does a Swede read Henning Mankell differently than an international reader? Perhaps not, but you notice things and hear tone differently.

It is said that national literatures often reveals deeper themes, myths if you will. The myth of the United States is ‘The Last Frontier’ and rugged individualism, the myth of the United Kingdom is the island nation. The myth for Canada is survival in the wilderness. Canadians first came together in forts, then villages, and then cities because the wilderness beyond is so powerful and so deadly, and we are so vulnerable if we remain alone.

When Louise Penny writes of Three Pines as a refuge she is describing something very deep within the Quebecois and the Canadian imagination—not just a cozy village, but more a respite from what lies beyond it.

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. Louise Penny says Three Pines is a state of mind as much as a place. Could Three Pines and its characters exist outside of Quebec?
  1. “Everyone lies. . . . Everyone hides things says Gamache.” What has he hid and how has he lied?
  1. A Supreme Court Justice of Canada has recently been quoted as saying she is reading Louise Penny. What do you think she will make of Chief Justice Pinneault?
  1. “I wish I could say it was guilt, a conscience, but it wasn’t. It was loneliness.” Brian says he quit drinking not because of conscience but because of loneliness. What is the connection between addiction and loneliness?
  1. “People only remember bad reviews” says the artist Normand. Do you think this is true?
  1. A fan wrote in to say she had named her son Armand after Chief Inspector Armand Gamache. “I feel that the Chief Inspector embodies all of the characteristics I would love to see in my son—intelligence, integrity, kindness, loyalty, compassion, and empathy, although he is not above admitting when he is wrong and is flawed in ways that make him all too human and very intriguing to follow through all of the novels.” Is there a character that you would name a child after?
  1. Poetry is used far more than mere ornament in A Trick of the Light. Characters reflect on the lines of Margaret Atwood, Stevie Smith and others throughout the book. What are your favorite lines and why?
  1. How do you visualize Clara’s portrait of the Virgin Mary? Which artist’s styles come to mind for you? And why?
  1. The picture of Clara and Peter’s marriage is so honest. We do compete with our spouses and think we are being supportive when we are not. Clara confronts Peter: “you don’t even like my work.” What would you say in this situation? Is this a double- bind? Peter does have different artistic tastes than Clara, but can he dislike her art and still love his wife?
  1. On the drive to Montreal Beauvoir asks “what would you have done sir? If you were married to someone else when you met Madame Gamache?” Do we all have a true love and what boundaries, if any, we should place around our search for that person?
  1. In a novel that is about many things including the power of media, why do you think there is no mention of any fictional TV, radio or print coverage of the murder of Lillian Dyson? Louise Penny was a prominent journalist before she became a novelist. Why this omission of media coverage in the story?
  1. The critic may wield great power in the art world, but do critics influence your reading decisions? Did you discover Louise Penny from a review or from somewhere else?
  1. Louise takes great care to call out specific newspapers and magazines thoughout the novel. Do you notice what characters are reading and what does it tell us about them?
  1. Louise describes grieving parents crossing over to another continent from which they won’t return. Does this deny the possibility of hope?

A Trick of the Light, Part 2

A diptych is art pieces designed to be displayed together where the meaning of one artwork is deepened by reference to its pair. The first half of A Trick of the Light opens with Clara Morrow’s triumphant vernissage and the electric reaction to her portrait of poet Ruth Zardo as the aged Virgin Mary. This is the painting that captivates Chief Inspector Armand Gamache and over which the international press raves. In the second half of the novel, we discover A Trick of the Light is really a diptych—it is a book about more than one triumphant piece of art and more than one newly discovered artist.


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A Trick of the Light, Part 1

We all love those scenes where Gamache meets a new officer of the Sûreté and instead of overawing them he shows kindness and curiosity. It was like this for me when I met Louise Penny, the Chief Inspector of our publishing adventures together in Canada.

We at Raincoast had just signed on to help with book promotion in Canada, it was the middle of June and A Trick of the Light was publishing in August. Not much time.


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AuthorJAMIE BROADHURST is VP of Marketing at Raincoast, an award winning, Canadian-owned book wholesale and distribution company based in Vancouver, BC.

158 replies on “Series Re-Read: A Trick of the Light”

ANNIE AND BEAUVOIR

I think that Beauvoir’s love for Annie is an out-cropping of his love for Armand, and yet, I also think it’s his first foray into a mature kind of love that recognizes another’s soul, rather than just a pretty face. It makes sense that a man he loved as a father could have a child he would love as an equal. I still have my hopes for this union – and it’s nice to see it develop from what is almost a schoolboy crush at this stage…

1.Clara’s Madonna appears to me as an Andrew Wyeth- what he did with light and dark- beautiful!! Always that sense of melancholy and yet…
2. I have never seen Clara and Peter’s marriage as being “completely honest”, Peter has always seemed to be holding back otherwise why would he go into his studio and shut Clara out of it?? He has seen her genius and withheld it from her by denying it to her. He loves her and is afraid that if others recognize and see her genius she will break free from what he sees is her need of him, not realizing that she stays because she loves him.
3. I think we all have many loves in our lives, it is up to us to recognize the depth of the loves we meet and whether or not we are willing to hurt others to find what that love will bring us. Can true love be built on others hurt? If there is honesty and not deception and cheating and the work is done before the two people come together, yes.
4/6. I didn’t even catch the fact the media was omitted and really didn’t pay much attention to the newspapers and magazines each character read-oops!
5. The critics don’t really influence what I read. My mother found a copy of STILL LIFE at a yard sale and it was the best $1 she spent! After she read it she passed it on to me and I then purchased every other book published and introduced them to my sister also.
7. After the death of a child, the life that was is no longer. Everything familiar is now different, including your home, it is as if you have moved and now live someplace else entirely. Does that mean that you have to live a life bereft of hope? Nope. There is light and dark wherever one goes, it is just what one chooses to lift their face to and open their heart to that determines if hope enters in.

Great questions and great discussion! I think Peter is a vampire. In some ways, I think that’s what an emotionally abusive person does to their victims–they suck the life and vitality from them and use that to make themselves feel better. Peter’s one saving grace, as I see it, is that he knows he’s a vampire. He has the ability to recognize his own unhealthy behavior. Therefore, theoretically, he has the ability to change it. He has twisted love and need so viciously, that he definitely will need help to salvage his relationship with his wife–with the person she has blossomed into with the growth of her artistic talent.

As for Clara’s painting style, I’m not sure how I see it–but definitely not in soft, studied colors. To me, Clara’s artistic ‘eye’ springs much deeper than her logical mind–she’s not making conscious decisions about how to approach a subject, the palette of colors she wants to work with, etc. The visualization of Ruth as Mary, angry and embittered, is brilliant on the part of Louise–springing from Louise’s mind to her character, Clara. Mary has always struck me as one-dimensional in most portrayals of her–this passive loving mother. She was human, a woman, and her son was taken from her in the most brutal way imaginable–and she too crossed over to that other continent. That she could find hope–that is the miracle!

The conversations about Jean-Guy, Annie, Olivier–I plucked one of the Gamache novels from the library shelf at random–have read them all–because the characters are revealed in all their shabby or glorious states of humanity–sometimes both in the same character! Louise knows the power of redemption in her own life and it shines in the pages of her books.

I am this week’s moderator, but in fact there is little need- you fellow Louise Penny fans need no direction from me. The comments back are so passionate and intelligent. You have helped me to re-re-read A Trick of the Light. Especially your insights about Peter and Clara’s marriage. And for the record, when I think of Clara’s painting of the Virgin Mary I think of a modern day Carravagio- a painter who depicted very earthy real life subjects who are transported into a another space by dramatic lighting. They were unconventional in their day, as is Clara’s work today.

Jamie – I have one word for you, and it comes from that great art connoisseur, Jean Guy Beauvoir – “chiaroscuro”! ;-0

Julie, I love that word – doesn’t it have a lovely sound? I also love that little bit of sarcasm about that “great” art connoisseur Jean Guy Beauvoir! But “chiaroscuro” is a lovely word to roll around on the tongue!

I have read all of Louise Penny’s books and can hardly wait for the next one. The characters are so real for me! To answer one of the discussion questions, I think in “A Trick of The Light” that Peter has finally emerged with his true colours. We saw it surface in the book about the murder of his sister by the statue and it emerged fully in this book. Could he dislike Clara’s work and still love her – I am not sure that he is able to love anyone because he does not seem to love himself very much. When someone is constantly seeking approval, recognition or praise – call it what you will – that person seems not to have positive self esteem. Without that, loving another may be difficult. So, no, he doesn’t like Clara’s art and he does not truly love Clara in my view. As for Olivier and Gamache, I agree with the person who made the comment that Olivier has to first forgive himself before he can forgive Gamache. We see that happen eventually (but I shall say no more for now). As to the question about Clara’s painting, I spend a lot of time in an art gallery as a volunteer docent and my image of Ruth is clear in my mind. I cannot isolate a particular artist’s style but I can see an isolated, lonely, embittered, elderly woman and feel hope for her just based on the descriptions in the book. Art is open to all sorts of interpretation and I like how Louise Penny has drawn the readers into the artist’s world (in this case Clara’s world) and has us feel the process of creating art. Can you tell I am a huge fan? Cheers!

Juanita, reading your post made me do some more thinking about Peter and Clara’s relationship, and whether he really can dislike her work but still love her “as a person.”
It seems to me that when a person is an artist or musician, that art or music is an integral part of that person. Would we expect someone married to Picasso, for example, to have said, ” I hate his art, but I love him”????
The coupling of two people, one of whom has a gift or talent in either the music or art field, and someone who “doesn’t get it” is in my view a misalliance. (Hope I spelled that correctly!) They certainly are not soul mates, and never will be.
However, I am not so sure that Peter actually DISLIKES Clara’s art. I think the fact that he feels envy when he looks at her painting of Ruth shows that he recognizes Clara’s talent. Had that painting been done by someone else, and not Clara, I think he would love it–maybe even want to buy it and hang it up in his studio.
Since it IS by Clara, though, he knows that he’s no longer the “big cheese”, artistically speaking, in his home. He’s been supplanted by Clara. Not many men can take it when they find that their wife is making more money than they are, or that the wife has a talent in the same area, and in fact is BETTER at what she does than he is. That, I believe, is the battle going on in Peter’s heart and soul.
I do think he loves Clara, as much as he is capable of loving anyone. I am willing to cut him some slack in this area, as after reading A Rule Against Murder, we readers found out about his highly dysfunctional family. Showing emotion or love was viewed with suspicion by Peter’s parents and siblings, so it’s almost a miracle he can love Clara at all. On top of that, the one person he really did love as a friend, Ben Hadley, betrayed his friendship, and attempted to kill Clara AND had planned to frame Peter for her murder. So, I can understand why it’s so difficult for him to come to grips with his true feelings. Remember in The Cruelest Month how he could not even admit he was feeling anger, and found that the “psychic medium” was giving illustrations of how he showed anger, and the other people there who knew him all silently agreed with her?
I wish that someone like Myrna could get Peter into serious counseling sessions, if not with herself, then a qualified therapist. Peter needs help desperately, not just to salvage his relationship with Clara, but to save himself as well.
I will just add as a closing remark here that in not being able to approve and support Clara’s art work, Peter shows the same kind of traits that many abusive husbands have. However, he can’t control her as he would like, and the more he tries to do so and manipulate situations so that Clara would once more be dependent on him, is of course counter-productive. Men(and women) who are emotionally abusive( I don’t think that Peter would ever harm Clara physically, for example) don’t realize that in doing so, they are killing the love that their partner feels for them. On some level, the wife or husband realizes she or he is being used, and that takes the marriage or partnership into darkness.

So glad to see you back, Jane F.!! Agree with your insights about this very flawed marriage and effects of role-reversals.

I agree that Peter would not physically abuse Clara, but he does abuse her emotionally and yes, that will kill love. Emotional abuse is often hidden from family and friends and the victim regarded as a liar if she/he complains. “That dear man/woman is so good. He/She gave $X to the Mission Fund, helped me find my dog, is always so polite to me, etc.” No bruises does not mean no abuse.

I agree, Barbara – emotional abuse can be even worse than physical because it is so subtle, even the person being abused might not realize until it is too late (or at least, he or she thinks it ‘s too late). And that what Peter is doing IS emotional abuse. Where it gets tricky, of course, is that this is the result of his own abuse at the hands of his family, orchestrated by his parents. The “cycle of abuse” continues until someone is strong enough to break it. I hope Peter is. I can’t quite give up on him yet, as I feel we’ve seen him try. We just need him to continue to “try, try again”.

I don’t understand and need help. Hope is very important in this book. I don’t understand what the Virgin Mary is hoping for? To see her Son again? To see Him accepted as Savior? What is Ruth hoping for? Is she hoping or just used to show hope in the Virgin Mary? The parents who have lost a child? Do they hope to see the child in the hereafter? Do they just hope the searing sense of loss will lessen or do they hope for something else? Are they just hoping for a better day? I hope it is something more than a better day. Oh no, now I’m writing that I’m hoping.

Well, Barbara, you have asked some cogent, important questions. I will try to answer as briefly as possible in the circumstances.
First, you ask what Mary the mother of Jesus was hoping for. I know she was present at her son’s crucificion– without consulting the New Testament, I don’t remember at present whether or not she was one of the women who took spices to his tomb. Even had she not been present at the finding of the empty tomb, I think she would have heard the reports from the other women and disciples about finding it empty and then the report from Mary Magdalene and other women that they had seen Jesus in a resurrected form. So I’d say the painting Clara has painted probably represents the time between the Crucifiction, when it appeared that all was lost; her beloved son was dead, and so too his ministry. I’m sure there would have been bitterness and confusion mixed in with grief during those bleak days. Then, one day, someone brings her the news. All is not lost. Her son is, in fact, returned to life. I like to think of that spot of white in the eye that Clara painted as representing the moment when hope began to enter her heart again: Could this thing be true?
As for Ruth and what she hopes for, that is a more perplexing question. I have to admit I enjoy reading about Ruth and her antics, but understanding what makes her tick? That is another story. I hope this is not too much of a spoiler, but I think one of the things Ruth is hoping for is to see Rosa, her little duckling, again. Yes, she let her go, which was wise of her, but that does not mean she does not miss her.

With Ruth, what you see is what you get, to be trite. She hates fake, especially fake emotions. That said, she fakes it a lot, doesn’t she, being “nasty” and putting off people? Or is she really nasty? Does she put off people? She doesn’t do that with those she loves, like Myrna and Clara, but she waits for people to reveal themselves to her, like Jean Guy. She doesn’t fake her own love and Louise Penny shows that to us with the sequence about Rosa. Ruth is so real to me.

Barbara – these things are so subjective – so I don’t begin to pretend that this is the “right” answer. But it’s my answer. The Virgin Mary is hoping that we will be saved. (this part is very hard for me, as I’m not a religious person, but as I understand from reading the bible and other religious writings, this is what she would want). Our world is so damaged – so many people around the world perpetrating abhorrent acts (many in the name of Christ). She is hoping for our redemption, which I think a Christian would believe would come through the saviour. I guess, as a human woman, she might also be hoping that her great personal sacrifice (her only son) was not in vain.

Ruth, as we continue to know her and find out more about her, hopes that some day all the pain and evil will be done with. She is the person she writes about (“Who hurt you once/so far beyond repair/that you would greet each overture/with curling lip?”) in her poems – she has been hurt by life, by people, perhaps beyond repair, though she lets a few people in and, I think, has hope that life can still be good.

2. The picture of Clara and Peter’s marriage is so honest. We do compete with our spouses and think we are being supportive when we are not. Clara confronts Peter: “you don’t even like my work.” What would you say in this situation? Is this a double- bind? Peter does have different artistic tastes than Clara, but can he dislike her art and still love his wife?
Well, I have to say that this is nothing new, really. We’ve seen throughout the series that Peter has a deep-seated envy of Clara’s work. Sadly, with his family background, he doesn’t have the example from his parents or the emotional security to support Clara’s work the way he should. I’ve written previously that it was much easier for Peter when HE was the big-shot artist, and Clara was, at least as far as he was concerned, a dabbler.
I think Louise has written a very interesting portrait of how changing status can change the way two people relate to each other. In Still Life, we see that Clara ends up being the benefactress of Jane’s will. This changes things dramatically for now Peter and Clara do not have to live in poverty as they did when depending on Peter’s leisurely output of maybe one painting per year. Now Clara can have her own space for her art work, and she really blossoms as an artist. This is when we first see that Peter is uneasy with this new development. That’s just increased as we have progressed through the books. So no, it was not surprising to me that it was Olivier and not Peter who came to Clara’s aid on the night when her nerves got the best of her before entering the vernissage that was being held in her honor. I hate to say it, but there’s a part of me as a reader that believes that Peter would have been perfectly happy to drive Clara back to Three Pines, away from the exhibit of her paintings, before she could find out how others really view her work. I think down deep he really wishes things could go back to the way they were before, when HE was the star and she was his little acolyte. Too bad for him, Pandora’s box has been opened, and he’s never going to fit Clara into that role again. I think, though, even through my exasperation with Peter, that he does have some good qualities, and if he and Clara got some marital counseling, they might just be able to salvage their marriage.

Welcome, Jamie, and thank you for that excellent introduction. I’ve sort of thought of Michael, Louise Penny’s husband, as the model for Gamache, but it makes just as much sense that, since Louise is the author, she puts a lot of herself into the Gamache character, too.
Now to look at that first question:
1. How do you visualize Clara’s portrait of the Virgin Mary? Which artist’s styles come to mind for you? And why?
I have read with great interest some of the previous posts dealing with how we visualize Clara’s portrait of the Virgin Mary. For some reason, I visualize something like Michaelangelo painted on the Sistine Chapel. Da Vinci’s a great renaissance artist, too, but I don’t think he got around to painting aged women very much. I like the way that Mary, the mother of Jesus, as painted sitting next to her son in the Last Judgment, sort of holds her shawl around her as if not wanting to see the turmoil of all the lost souls being damned. When I visualize Clara’s painting of Ruth, I think of a painting that shows a rather bitter- looking woman who has just had a hint of better things to come. Who better to have painted a feeling like that than Michaelangelo? That’s my take, anyway.

I was see Louise Penny when she was on her book tour for How the Light Gets In. A member of the audience asked if Gamache was based on a real person and she said yes, it was Michael. You figured it out correctly.

I have a poster of the Dalai Lama distributed by the University at Buffalo for his visit to the campus in 2006. His form and face are nearly obscured by the background color, blended in. At first I was disappointed, but it remains on my bedroom wall with my grandchildren’s photos on the side. His kind smile and calm manner are very strongly there, and I think of the portrait similarly, like a Rembrandt. I hardly remember how I found the Gamache books, they have become such an essential part of my reading compulsion. I followed the path to Three Pines because it is near my border home in Buffalo and I find the Canadian psyche so interesting and at the same time contradictory in their treatment of First Nations people. Penny touches on that frequently, which is part of what makes her a great writer.

5. The critic may wield great power in the art world, but do critics influence your reading decisions? Did you discover Louise Penny from a review or from somewhere else?

I discovered Still Life through book club. Absolutely loved it and was thrilled to find out there were more books in the series. Have recommended these books to many of my friends who also love them. One of them even sent me chocolate-covered blueberries as a thank you! You will no doubt remember them from the monastery.

My sympathy for Olivier is limited a bit by his not seeming to accept is own part in his being falsely accused. He set up the situation for the tragedy, treated the Hermit badly, and misled the investigation, and then can’t forgive Gamache for acting on the trail of errors . . . That said, it’s good to see his kindnesses, his good self taking hold again.
I have some sympathy for Peter dealing with the emptiness of his own upbringing, and hope he does learn to be worthy of Clara.
The twining of strands in this mystery fascinated me . . . and the art references make me want to learn more.

Mary, I agree. I am angered that Olivier is taking no responsibility for the role he played in his imprisonment. Gamache tried and tried to help him, but Olivier just kept lying, until Gamache had no choice but to arrest him. It breaks my heart to see Gamache taking so much responsibility for that, and I was glad to see his comment that perhaps he and Olivier have ended up in the same prison cell.

# 2 ” can he dislike her art and still love his wife?” Loving his wife and liking her art are not related. If he loves her, he would try to be supportive of her and her career. Surely, he could see some artistic merit in her works. He will not allow himself to truly encourage her or offer her his support because of his jealousy and the competiveness instilled in him as a child.

The jealousy and competitiveness were not necessarily instilled in Peter as a child. He chose them as coping mechanisms. He could also choose to give them up, but hasn’t.

I believe he likes her work. He thinks it’s glorious. It isn’t that he hates her works, it’s that he hates the fact they’re so much better than his. He’s jealous. He’s green with envy.

Peter can’t love Clara if he hates her paintings. At least, not according to how her paintings and how she have been described. Clara paints feelings: love, joy, hope and faith. She paints herself. Her beliefs. If Peter hates the paintings, he doesn’t appreciate and respect Clara. But Louise has written that Peter criticizes Clara’s paintings for technical reasons. He points out flaws, real or imagined. But he doesn’t hate the paintings. He is scared of them. Their emotions (and Clara’s) emphasize his emptiness. He is jealous of her talent. Of her ability to feel. Of her capacity for love, hope and faith. And he is ashamed of that jealousy … and afraid.

# 1 I have never been able to visualize the portrait in detail. I can see only a faint, fuzzy, out-of-focus picture. Usually, I have very sharp and definite pictures of anything described in a book. However, my ideas may differ from the majority. I think I may have trouble with this visualization because I can not bear the thought of the Mother of our Lord being bitter or alone and aged. I’ve tried to think of it as Ruth but that doesn’t help.
# 5 I read the book reviews in USA Today and in the local paper as well as the monthly edition of Book Page(given to Library patrons). I never read a book only because of the review.
I read a review of Still Life and because I like Canada, mysteries, and small towns I checked it out of the library. Two dear friends introduced me to many authors. I didn’t always embrace their suggestions, but always tried them. They are deceased but would have enjoyed this reread. Several times, I have reached for the phone to share a passage with one or the other of them. They both loved Ruth.

Because I love the palette of the Impressionist and Post-Impressionists, my vision of Ruth as the aging Virgin Mary is in softened colors. Like Ruth herself, Clara has captured the inner beauty of Ruth. As in the last book, Jean-Guy found that inner beauty, that Clara sees and Ruth so whats to hide behind her mask of gruffness.
There are so many levels of exploration in this novel and it is hard to begin examining it.
Peter’s true colors are finally shown in this novel. His ego is damaged by the success of Clara and he has been undermining Clara to fuel his need to prove himself by being non-supportive to Clara. Everything in his life has led him to this lifestyle and he does not have the tools, either artistically or ethically, to be in a normal relationship. He has to be the “winner” and if others are hurt in the process, so be it. this attitude had led to the destruction of his marriage. I think that he is truly shocked that Clara finally tells him that she has had enough.
It is not surprising that Clara does not recognize her former friend. Addiction can change the looks of the addicted person due to lack of proper nutrition and caring for one’s self beyond the next drink or drug. That Peter had been a part of the ruination of a friendship is just another way he had to be the hero.
We all perceive life from a unique perspective. That Lillian told her parents a completely different story regarding the falling out with Clara is not unusual, it is the story she told herself to cover up her sense of guilt.
Olivier, here is the person we came to love in the first books, the sweet caring Olivier! He will forgive Gamache but he has to forgive himself first and that is the hard part. It is like finally admitting that you have a problem and then confronting it in a positive way.
Finding love for Jean-Guy and Annie is interesting as they are both in the shadow of Armand and do not want to hurt him or Reine-Marie. Here are two lost souls in need of a safe harbor. Both have been hurt by love and are trying to move on and, in finding each other, we see redemption. I see Jean-Guy’s inability to talk to Gamache about his feelings for Annie is fear. He does not want to disappoint his boss, he is afraid that Gamache will not feel him good enough for his daughter, he is still dealing with the aftermath of his divorce.
Jean-Guy was hurt in more than just a physical way. Like Gamache, the emotional scars are more deeply hidden and will take a long time to really heal. I see Jean Guy as wanting to understand what really was going on with the raid and Gamache not totally ready to explain all that happened to really cause this incident that took to much from them all.
Because I found the first Penny book at a used book sale, tucked on the shelf, I really had never heard of her so had no expectations at all. As I stood reading the first couple of pages of “Still Life”, I knew that I wanted to read the entire book — it was a mystery, about a place near where I grew up and loved, about art and interesting characters. I sometimes read reviews, but I tend to form my own opinions as they generally do not reflect what I see in the book or concert or piece of art or movie.
The historical information really enhances our understanding of place and time in these novels. Americans are not very knowledgeable of Canadian history and I find it sad to be so close and yet so xenophobic. I am probably more lucky than most because I grew up on the border and most of my parents friends were Canadian and I read history for my degree and it still interests me.
If it is difficult to get reception for a cell phone in Three Pines and it is not listed on any map, it can be assumed that getting newspapers radio or TV reception would also be affected. The invasion of the outside world would change the character of Three Pines. It is a tiny village and the part that intrigues us in the lack of sophistication from modern news media. The papers are available and read in the bistro, but it is a “community” gathering with discussion and insight. How often does this happen? Not around the breakfast table as we scurry of to work nor on the bus or train or diving in commuter traffic on the way to work!
The loss of a child, whether a young child or an adult, is traumatic and very difficult for the surviving parents. I have watched family and friends deal in many ways, both healthy and unhealthy. I have seen marriages either strengthen or dissolve after the death of their child; family members turn to drugs or alcohol to ease the pain; and they all look for the good in their deceased offspring. Lillian’s parents could only see the good in their only child and she had been away for a long time. We parents want to believe our children until there is evidence to the truth. Any death changes each of us and it is like crossing a divide that separates us from those who have not experienced this kind of loss.

2. The picture of Clara and Peter’s marriage is so honest. We do compete with our spouses and think we are being supportive when we are not. Clara confronts Peter: “you don’t even like my work.” What would you say in this situation? Is this a double- bind? Peter does have different artistic tastes than Clara, but can he dislike her art and still love his wife?

If one has a strong marriage and self confidence it would be ok. He could still be supportive without liking her work. There is a famous political couple. One is a fierce liberal, the other is a fierce conservative. Yet they love each other and have a great marriage. Their names escape me right now.

You might be thinking of Mary Matalin and James Carville. The couple that first came to mind was Maria Shriver and Arnold Schwarzenegger but they are no longer married.

I agree with several of the others who’ve mentioned that Peter DOES like Clara’s art – he’s stunned by her talent. It’s the jealousy that he is having so much trouble with, and as the story goes on, we’ll see that he has been for a very long time. He’s been sniping away at her to make sure she never felt confident in her talents since they started dating in college.

I do think he loves her – as best he can. I think he’s so damaged that he may never be able to contribute equally to the marriage. But he needs her on a basic level, and that neediness, more even than his jealousy, is what I find difficult to balance with a good marriage in my mind. On some level, people think it’s flattering to be “needed” by someone, and to a certain extent, it’s healthy and good. But when the neediness takes over everything else, it can kill any feelings of love that you have for your spouse. Peter’s in great danger of killing Clara’s love completely.

I have hopes, however, that he will learn and grow… As someone who has been through a divorce, I know that this should be seen as the last resort – the one thing left you can do when you have tried everything else. It’s so demoralizing to go through, and not to be jumped to because you “just can’t get along”. I hope, very fervently, that Peter and Clara can see a good counselor and work on bringing back the love.

As a participant in a 55-year marriage, I wonder if we don’t all encounter the fatal flaws in one another during those many years. Encounter them, recognize them, and absorb them into the totality of the person with whom we share so much, including our own fatal flaws. Does the spark of hope in the ancient Virgin Mary extinguish the loss of her divine Son? Or is it the ultimate act of humility, not to forgive the unforgivable, but to accept it as part of the masterpiece that is all our lives, whether long or short? I think there is old tragedy in the lives of Beauvior and Ruth that we have yet to learn. What about the mothers of the murdered Cree boys? Will they ever know hope again?

Nancy – I would love to know more about the Cree community that is at the heart of several of these stories – what started Gamache on the path he now travels toward solving the Arnot case completely. It’s so easy to get caught up in the people we know so well and love, but we would be wrong to forget those left behind after so many young people were murdered.

Having spent decades working with crime survivors, including homicide “survivors” (an odd name, but what else works?), I can say… It depends. On the circumstances, on the support, but mostly on the individual. Some are set on justice, or full of anger, or broken and turning to unhealthy habits, or focused on forgiveness, or understanding, or reconciliation… a thousand ways to grieve. Sometimes processes clash. Some people identify it as the primary event of their lives, determining every decision they make, while others strive to make it one event in a lifetime of events. There’s no “right” way to proceed, but there are some reactions and choices that encourage hope – and some that extinguish it.

4. In a novel that is about many things including the power of media, why do you think there is no mention of any fictional TV, radio or print coverage of the murder of Lillian Dyson? Louise Penny was a prominent journalist before she became a novelist. Why this omission of media coverage in the story

I’m not sure. I never thought about it. Maybe because it would be clutter in the story. Maybe it would be biased and not let us have an open mind?

I don’t see any reason why the death of an unknown woman, recently returned to Canada, on welfare, who died where there is no real media presence would have been reported by any news outlet. Sorry but I didn’t understand the question. Anyone have some insight here?

I had not thought about the lack of media presence either, but even though there are no media outlets in Three Pines, it seems at least possible, if not likely, that one of the party guests from Montreal would have alerted the media to the discovery of a body in Clara’s garden right after her vernissage. Or perhaps that’s so common in the U.S. that I would expect it to heppen in Canada as well?

good point. This is what I meant: the victim is obscure but the timing and context are sensational. and the murder rate in Canada is quite low- less than 600 murders a year for the entire country- less than many single cities elsewhere. A murder would likely attract media attention. But your opinion has me thinking about this again.

The media go after the easy story. Sensationalise it and mess around with the facts. Hopefully they got lost in the forests and mountains and decided to write about something easy.

I agree with Diane. I don’t think that there would be much coverage here. There isn’t the same type of interest as a young mother gunned down in a gang-related shooting gone wrong or a kidnapping or car-jacking. I would think that, at most, coverage would be “a murder in a small village”… and it would run for 1 day only.

While there are no reporters in Three Pines, (and how would they find the place even?) I do think that in the natural order of things, there might be some reportage of how such a prestigious event as a vernissage at the highly acclaimed Musee d’Art Contemporain in Montreal was affected by the murder of someone on the artist’s property at the after party. I truly believe there would be media coverage. That we aren’t shown this is because we “live” in Three Pines – we see things first hand, as though we are one of the community, and therefore, we’re not influenced by the media. There would definitely be some “spin” – what a juicy story – an unknown-before-last-night artist is discovered and defamed in one stroke! The media would make hay, but that’s not what the story is about – it’s about the true, honest feelings and people involved.

Interesting question – especially since we are made very aware of media presence in “Bury Your Dead” – the throng of reporters around the Lit and His, the press conference. As others have said, Three Pines is so small and hard to find that I’m not completely surprised there isn’t press there – but it does make me realize that it was a deliberate choice on Louise’s part. (Personally, I’m relieved – I would hate to have Three Pines “discovered” by a sensationalistic media!)

5. The critic may wield great power in the art world, but do critics influence your reading decisions? Did you discover Louise Penny from a review or from somewhere else?

No, not really. I take what I want from reviews. Each person has a different worldview and personality. So what one may vilify, I might like. As to Louise, a like minded friend had read Still Life and highly recommended it to me. It did not disappoint and I’ve been hooked ever since!!

I “found” Louise through a friend who recommended Still Life. I seldom find books through reviews, though once in a great while, I will read a review that really gives a good accounting of what the book is like, and I will buy it – I can think of three very good biographies I bought because of great reviews. As soon as I started Still Life, I could tell that this was an author with a very authentic, Canadian voice. I needed to read more, to know more.

I found Bury Your Dead on a newsletter from my public library. At the time it was on their new books list and I was looking for something to read. The description sounded intriguing and I borrowed it. It was my introduction to Louise Penny and I immediately went back and read all the previous titles while madly telling all my friends how wonderful the books were. I find reviews only somewhat helpful and never completely rely upon them.

I learned about the Gamache series from a Facebook post by Ann Reed, Minnesota songwriter/singer. She wrote of the beauty of the writing; from a writer of Reed’s caliber, I could only pay attention and reserve “Still Life” at the library. I was hooked after the first page.

I found Still Life through my life friend when I was bemoaning the lack of good reading material out there. She listed a few other authors as well, but I didn’t feel the same connection with their work. I wouldn’t care if the critics said that Penny’s works were total crap at this point. The use of place as a character, the richness of the language, the quirky characters….I’m well and truly hooked at this point.

#1. Clara’s portrait of the Virgin Mary has always made me think of Van Gogh’s portraits, especially some of his self-portraits. They are so intriguing, it’s hard to stop looking at the eyes and the eyes vary from picture to picture. In some, his eyes are close together, in others, farther apart. Sometimes bigger, sometimes smaller. His unusual stroke work adds such emotion and conflicting reactions in the viewer. Also, his aggressive use of blue makes me think of Clara’s Virgin Mary. I wonder if my knowledge of Van Gogh’s life is influencing my reactions to the controlled, intense feeling I perceive in his self-portraits. Maybe, but I think it is mostly his ability as an artist to evoke emotion from his audience, like Clara. Is there hope in his eyes? I don’t know. I’ll have to look some more.

Interesting! I can see why you both thought of Van Gogh – there is that intensity, the presence of the spirit of the person in his portraits.

7. Louise describes grieving parents crossing over to another continent from which they won’t return. Does this deny the possibility of hope?

No, it doesn’t. But they do live in a different state so to speak. Unless it has happened to me, I cannot enter that state. There is always hope though and through time they can find some joy again.

To me, it does mean that there will be no hope. The loss of a loved one, especially of a child, is devastating. Somehow, loss to murder is worse – you might think that dead is dead, but murder is definitely the abomination that steals your trust in mankind. My brother’s brother-in-law was murdered (many years ago, now, and we were not close, so it’s not that it was a devastating loss to me, personally) and I saw how changed his siblings and wife were after that. This is definitely a land from which there is no return, and in this land, strangers cannot be trusted. Hope is lost and I don’t see how it can come back.

I certainly understand why they are so resentful of Clara and what they believe she did to their daughter. Their daughter was everything to them.

Yes, like Tom Hancock said to Gamache that joy is always with us and in time Armand will find it again.

It does not deny the possibility of hope. They have entered a different land and nothing will ever be the same, but there is still joy and hope because they don’t belong with the old continent. Joy and hope are part of the people who feel them. I have seen an aunt and cousin live through a murder (father/grandfather), death of son-in-law/husband to cancer at age 23, death of son/brother at age 25 to an overdose, death of husband/father to cancer, and 2nd son-in-law/husband making it through a heart transplant. They are both hopeful people who experience a lot of joy. Their lives are different. They have hard days. But they don’t give up, they look for signs of their lost loved ones and they celebrate what they have today. Courage, hope, love and joy are choices. They are still present and real once we come through the other side of grief.

After reading the following passage ” Her works, mostly portraits, hung all around the white walls of the main gallery . . . . Some were clustered close together, like a gathering. Some hung alone, isolated. Like this one.” I decided exactly how to hang my own exhibition of 73 drawings in the fall of 2013. My complex series of portraits made over many years sorted itself as I held this description in my mind. In fact I called this show held in Olympia Washington “Like This”. Thank you Louise.

Julie, what a powerful picture. Now that I see it, I remember that cover. I’m glad that you found it, it really is hard to look away from those eyes. It also makes me want to see the next moment and the next. Add 70 years and what will we see?

This may be my favorite of Louise’s books to date. There are so many layers to this particular story, it’s hard to know where to start.

So first, art. I want to see Clara’s painting of Ruth! I have an image in my mind, and that’s probably a good place for it to stay– we should each have our own image. I am only a casual, occasional, art gallery or museum goer, not familiar with too many artists’ work, but I don’t feel it is in the least “Renaissance” style, not direct, not fully representational. That’s not Clara’s style. (Remember those uterus paintings?) It doesn’t remind me of any artist’s work — in my mind it is unique. If I looked at the painting would I be able to see the Virgin, or would I see just an angry old woman? That’s a question I’ve been pondering since reading this novel. I’ll be thinking about it the next time I am in an art museum.

Can Peter and Clara’s marriage survive his dislike of Clara’s work, his jealousy and his fear of Clara’s success? Peter’s work is intensely representational, beautiful, but exacting in its depiction of what he is painting. Clara’s is — not. Emphatically not. This might, in confident people, be a good match… each expert in their own field. But Peter has no confidence. Can Peter find a way to outgrow his deep sense of inferiority, his ever-present need for praise, care, loving, instilled in him by his horrific family? I doubt it.

“If I looked at the painting would I be able to see the Virgin, or would I see just an angry old woman? ”

Margaret, that’s a really good question. When I read the description of this painting, I wondered if I would see that dot of light and interpret it as hope. But now I wonder, as you do, if I would interpret the angry old woman as the Virgin Mary? I wonder if people who aren’t Christian, or familiar with the Christian paintings we are so used to seeing in art history classes, would see it that way?

I don’t believe that I would interpret the painting as the Virgin Mary. I never thought of her losing faith or becoming bitter, so I doubt that I would have seen anything other than a bitter, angry old woman and, maybe, the beginnings of hope.

Several people have mentioned the girl on the cover of National Geographic, but I don’t see Clara’s painting that way at all. The Van Gogh references come closer in my mind — his self portraits… suggested rather than delineated features.
Isn’t it a great thing that there are so many different kinds of writers, and artists? And people???

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