{"id":13865,"date":"2017-09-28T18:30:39","date_gmt":"2017-09-28T22:30:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/?p=13865"},"modified":"2017-09-28T18:30:39","modified_gmt":"2017-09-28T22:30:39","slug":"novel-graphics","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/novel-graphics\/","title":{"rendered":"Novel Graphics"},"content":{"rendered":"

October 2017 | view this story as a .pdf<\/a><\/p>\n

For thirty-two years<\/b> we have championed the fine art<\/b> of fiction<\/b>.\u00a0Linden Frederick\u2019s <\/b>new project is a mash-up<\/b> of fiction illustrating<\/b> fine art.\"oct17-fiction\"<\/b> <\/span><\/h3>\n

Night Stories<\/strong> the book is launching in tandem with \u201cNight Stories\u201d the exhibition at Rockland\u2019s Center
\nfor Maine Contemporary Art. Here\u2019s a taste of six of the 15 duets created when writers responded
\nto paintings.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Richard Russo, Downstairs<\/em><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Painting: Downstairs,<\/em> 2016. Oil on linen.<\/span><\/p>\n

She\u2019s not a gifted thinker, his sister. All her life she\u2019s arrived at bizarre conclusions based on dubious logic. Unnervingly, though, she\u2019s seldom wrong about him, a fact that\u2019s always made him just a little crazy.<\/span><\/p>\n

She opens the door before he can knock. \u201cRoger.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaggie,\u201d he says, his voice sounding funny after so many hours alone in the car.
\nStepping back into the hall, she teeters and he instinctively reaches out, remembering
\ntoo late that this is what she always does. And that he always falls for it. <\/span><\/p>\n

God, he hates her.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tess Gerritsen, Takeout<\/em><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Painting: Takeout<\/em>, 2016. Oil on linen.<\/span><\/p>\n

He watches how gracefully she circulates from table to table, how she tenderly pats an old man\u2019s shoulder and stops to ask a woman about a new litter of puppies. Everyone in the diner knows her, and they smile as she passes by, as if they\u2019ve just glimpsed the sun on a winter\u2019s night. Does the girl wonder about the world outside this caf\u00e9, this town? Her shoes are badly scuffed and she wears a cheap dime store wristwatch. Does she dream about owning nicer things, a new dress, shoes from
\nItaly? How can this be enough for her?<\/span><\/p>\n

Elizabeth Strout, The Walk<\/em><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Painting: Dish<\/em>, 2016. Oil on linen<\/span><\/p>\n

And then his mind returned to his children. They were quiet, he thought. Too quiet. Were they angry with him? All three had gone to college, and his sons had moved to Massachusetts, his daughter to New Hampshire; there seemed to be no jobs for them here. His grandchildren were okay; they all did well in school. It was his children he wondered about as he walked. Last year at Denny\u2019s fiftieth high school reunion, he had shown his eldest boy his yearbook, and his son had said, \u201cDad! They called you Frenchie?\u201d Oh sure, Denny said, with a chuckle. \u201cIt\u2019s not funny,\u201d his son had said, and gotten up and walked away, leaving Denny with his yearbook open on the kitchen table. <\/span><\/p>\n

Anthony Doerr, Save-A-Lot<\/em><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Painting: Save-A-Lot<\/em>, 2016. Oil on linen.<\/span><\/p>\n

The year Bunny turns twenty-two, she takes home $49,500. Then Mike Ramirez, a dishwasher at Sea Dog Sushi, gets her drunk on sake, knocks her up, and bolts for Tampa. More than once during her pregnancy Bunny wakes in the night and stands in front of the mirror and sees Momma\u2019s dark kitchen, hears Momma\u2019s drunken voice: You\u2019re sucking hind teat, Bunny, you\u2019re dumb as a box of hair, you\u2019re not worth spit.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lois Lowry, Vital Signs<\/em><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Painting: 50 Percent<\/em>, 2016. Oil on linen.<\/span><\/p>\n

The four men stood silently in the dark and watched Grafton Larrabee move slowly through the room. Beside the mannequin in the blue gown he paused, leaned forward, kissed its shoulder, and stroked its arm.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

October 2017
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