Anna Quindlen and I have never crossed paths, but I’m glad I pulled this book of hers off the shelf last week. Judging by how much I liked–no, loved—Her Still Life With Bread Crumbs, I’ve missed out on a literary voice and writing style that click with me in a major way. Anna, you and I need to catch up.
But first, her recent novel. The one with a gray-haired, 60-year-old photographer, once the darling of the New York art scene who’s fallen on hard times. The famous Rebecca Winter, creator of The Kitchen Counter series of photos, needs cash. She’s moved into a not-so-cozy cottage in the sticks while renting her airy, light-filled Manhattan apartment to generate income. She’s a few hours from the city, and her first night there realizes there’s a raccoon in the attic who seems more at home than she does.
Before I tell you about the roofer (I envisioned Sam Eliot for the no-nonsense local who knows everything about the forest, the critters and the townfolk) who comes to the rescue, I must say how much I enjoyed Quindlen’s descriptions of Rebecca’s work and professional life. It’s probably because I like photography and enjoy picture taking. Like Rebecca Winter, I like to walk around with my camera shooting objects and scenes that suddenly appear or ‘speak’ to me in some way. I’m no pro and just shoot for fun, but it was so very interesting to learn how a real photographer sees the world around her. We had a wee bit in common, and I enjoyed that connection to the character. Next to her age, of course.
Rebecca became a sensation many years before with one image from her iconic Kitchen Counter series of photographs. Called “Still Life with Bread Crumbs,” it materialized only because of Rebecca’s procrastination. Her company had gone home, and she wasn’t ready to begin the dishes. Instead of the dishtowel, she grabbed her new camera and began taking pictures of the chaos left behind. Dirty forks, an olive oil bottle on its side, plates, wineglasses. The image launched her career and kept her bank account robust, but by the time we meet Rebecca that income stream was down to a trickle.
Her lease is for a year. Slowly, she makes friends, picks up work as a bird photographer for the state and begins a friendship with that roofer fellow. She also reclaims a bit of her artsy mojo when she stumbles upon objects in the woods–crosses randomly planted into the loamy soil with pictures or trophies or keepsakes. They are mysterious, spooky, unsettling, as are the black and white images Rebecca creates.
Quindlen offers a positive view on change and growing older in this novel. Fact–we’re not washed up by 60. Life still holds adventure and promise. Never give up. Be open to new things. It was exciting to find a character who brought ‘young, old age’ to the forefront. She made me believe my mantra –the best is yet to be.
Reading, Reviewing and Ranting 