TITLE: From Sea to Stormy Sea: 17 Great American Paintings and the Stories They Inspired
EDITOR: Lawrence Block
336 pages, Pegasus Books, ISBN 9781643130828 (hardcover, ebook)
DESCRIPTION: (from Goodreads): Seventeen stories by seventeen brilliant writers, inspired by seventeen paintings. That was the formula for Lawrence Block’s two ground-breaking anthologies, In Sunlight or in Shadow and Alive in Shape and Color, and it’s on glorious display here once again in From Sea to Stormy Sea. This time the paintings are exclusively the work of American artists, and the roster includes Harvey Dunn, John Steuart Curry, Reginald Marsh, Thomas Hart Benton, Helen Frankenthaler, Winslow Homer, Rockwell Kent, Grant Wood, Childe Hassam and Andy Warhol. Among the star-studded lineup of writers you’ll find Jerome Charyn, Jane Hamilton, Christa Faust, John Sandford, Sara Paretsky, Walter Mosley, Charles Ardai, Barry Malzberg, and Janice Eidus. It’s an outstanding collection, with widely divergent stories united by theme and culture, and—no surprise—beautifully illustrated with full-color reproductions of the seventeen paintings.
MY RATING: Four out of five stars
MY THOUGHTS: As noted in the synopsis, From Sea to Stormy Sea is editor Lawrence Block’s third anthology of short stories based on famous paintings (In Sunlight or in Shadow focused exclusively on the works of Edward Hopper, while Alive in Shape and Color cast a more worldwide net). As such, I knew to expect stories that covered, and sometimes crossed, several genres. This time out there’s a science fiction tale, a pair of meta-textual pieces, a number of historical period tales and a few that some readers would likely call “literary,” but which I’ll categorize as “modern drama” because they cover current every-day life. (The idea that fiction is only “literary” if it doesn’t feature recognizable genre elements is a discussion for another time.)
The lone science fiction tale is Jerome Charyn’s “The Man from Hard Rock Mountain,” inspired by Rockwell Kent’s painting “Twilight of Man.” It’s a tidy piece of post-apocalyptic fiction in which a lonely man, subsisting on what little he has after something permanently takes out the power grid and society collapses, finds himself visited by a traveling woman and girl who are a bit secretive about how they’ve been surviving. Rumors reach the main character through other travelers, but are the rumors true, or just vicious spite? The character work is wonderfully nuanced, the world-building subtle but complete. One of my favorite stories in the collection.
Of the two potentially meta-textual pieces in the book, I have to admit I struggled with Barry N. Malzberg’s “Riverfront,” in which the unnamed narrator takes painter George Bellows to task for not knowing more about a woman in his painting “Riverfront.” I’m not sure I really got what Malzberg was going for, which I suspect says more about how I process certain types of stories than anything about the writer’s talent. Lawrence Block’s own “The Way We See the World,” based on Raphael Soyer’s painting “Office Girls,” raises questions about how and when we see ourselves in art (paintings, short stories, novels) via a conversation between a woman viewing the painting and a man who approaches her to start up a conversation. I usually love Block’s dialogue-driven short stories, and this was no exception.
Seven of the stories actually incorporate the paintings that inspired them as a prop, to varying degrees of importance. Mark Rothko’s “Number 14” is simply the main character’s favorite painting in Janice Eidus’ “You’re A Walking Time Bomb,” a deeply introspective piece about mortality, missed opportunities and making the most of second chances. In Scott Frank’s “He Came in Through the Bathroom Window,” on the other hand, Robert Henri’s portrait of Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney drives the action across several owners/thieves and locations.
A number of the period pieces have the dark tone Lawrence Block anthologies are usually known for. Patti Abbot’s “The Prairie is My Garden,” based on the painting of the same name by Harvey Dunn and set in 1884 South Dakota territory, starts with a woman watching over her children playing in the plains around their remote homestead while her departing traveling preacher husband frets about their safety, but the story takes a darker turn as the history of the marriage and how they came to this house is revealed. Charles Ardai’s “Mother of Pearl,” set in post-Depression New York City (appropriate for the publisher of the Hard Case Crime line, I think) and inspired by Piet Mondrian’s “Broadway Boogie Woogie”, is a rumination on success, failure, identity, and the search for where we come from. It’s one of several stories I’ve read multiple times and I feel like I get something more from it each time. Two other favorites that are dark period pieces: “Get Him” by Micah Nathan, inspired by “Light at the Crossing” by Daniel Morper, switches POV between a young man traveling to meet his intended bride and the hitman who is trailing him, while Sara Paretsky’s “Baptism in Kansas” (inspired by the painting of the same name by John Steuart Curry) fetches a young east coast woman up against Midwestern Kansas stern morality, traveling religious shows, and anti-native racism.
One period piece that isn’t as dark but also tackles racism: Gary Phillips’ “A Matter of Options” (based on “Why Not Use the ‘L’?” by Reginald Marsh) introduces a cunning cat-burglar called The Satin Fox. The public thinks The Fox must be a white man, but the truth enables the thief to blend in among her intended targets. It’s a fun, but still thought-provoking, piece of “new pulp,” taking the feel of classic pulp adventure magazine stories and adding a more modern sensibility. It’s a credit to Phillips’ world-building that I finished the story and went looking for where else the character has appeared. I was surprised that this is The Satin Fox’s first appearance. I hope the author is intending to do more with the main character and her companions.
It’s not just the period pieces that are dark. Jan Burke’s “Superficial Injuries,” inspired by Andy Warhol’s “Thirteen Most Wanted Men,” Brendan DuBois’ “Adrift Off the Diamond Shoals,” inspired by Winslow Homer’s “Reefing Sails Around the Diamond Shoals,” Christa Faust’s “Garnets,” inspired by Helen Frankenthaler’s “Adirondacks,” and Tom Franklin’s “On Little Terry Road,” inspired by John Hull’s “This Much I Know,” are all to one degree or another modern crime stories with interesting twists. The Burke is almost a cozy-mystery/classic 70s TV detective type of story; the other three are a bit more violent with main characters who carry secrets that threaten to boil up at any moment.
John Sandford’s “Girl with an Ax” (inspired by Thomas Hart Benton’s “Hollywood”) takes place in modern day LA and focuses on the relationship between a young musician and her elderly neighbor. Jane Hamilton’s “Someday, A Revolution” (based on Grant Wood’s “Daughters of the Revolution”) covers a woman’s conflicted feelings about her son’s life path and how her “friends” in the DAR feel about it. Both lack genre elements, although the second has a bit of a darker feel to it.
The most emotionally resonant story for me personally was Warren Moore’s “Silver at Lakeside,” inspired by the author’s father’s painting “Homage to Les Fauves.” The narrator reminisces about his childhood experiences with painting, trying to follow in his father’s footsteps, and how his father reacted to the narrator finally choosing a life path of his own. Wistfulness, nostalgia, childhood embarrassment and adult acceptance are expertly woven together.