Story & Character

1. How would you describe the relationship between Christina Olsen and Andrew Wyeth?

Andrew Wyeth was, on the surface, as different from Christina Olson as anyone could be. He grew up in an affluent, educated family, traveled the world, and even at the age of 22 was a nationally known and celebrated artist. But they shared surprising similarities that bonded them. Like Christina, Andrew was sickly as a child and walked with a limp. He was ornery and liked to be alone. He valued hard work and simple living. He appreciated Christina’s quiet strength, her smarts, and her contrarian nature.

2. You’ve said that you feel a ‘deep-rooted kinship’ with the subject of the painting, Christina Olson – why is that?

Well, for one thing, my name is Christina. My grandmother and mother were also Christina, and my grandmother, in South Carolina, grew up in circumstances not unlike Christina Olson’s in Maine: they were both raised in the early 20th century in remote clapboard farmhouses, without heat or electricity or running water. Like Christina Olson, my grandmother was afflicted with physical problems as a child that limited her mobility. I’ve always been intrigued by the subject’s seemingly paradoxical combination of strength and helplessness.

3. From the research you have done, what is your opinion on how Christina Olson’s illness affected her life?

The real-life Christina Olson had a mysterious degenerative muscular disease that was diagnosed after her death as Charcot-Marie-Tooth, an inherited disorder. (I believe that her father had it too, though no one has ever said that. He was in a wheelchair for the last 15 years of his life.) It affected Christina in every way. Life was hard on the farm, but she was fiercely proud and would not use a wheelchair. Nevertheless, she ran the household. In later years she took to dragging herself around – as we can see in Wyeth’s portrait.

4. A Piece of the World is grounded in two real-life characters, and a specific location and time. But some say all writing is, in some way, autobiographical: which parts of yourself fell into the book?

In some ways, though the character I created is not me, this is my most personal book. It is meditative and philosophical and very close to the bone. I felt, as I wrote, that I deeply understood and empathized with this fiercely proud, sensitive woman. I grew to respect and admire her, and most of all to feel that I understood her motivations. I hope that by the end of the novel the reader feels the same way.
5. There has been a lot of conversation recently about “unlikeable female narrators.” Would you characterize Christina Olson as unlikeable? How do you think she fits into this overarching discussion?

I have always believed that an “unlikeable” character is a failure of the writer’s imagination and empathy. Christina and her family are hardy, taciturn New Englanders. They can be selfish, stubborn, jealous, and petty; they’re often incapable of articulating what they feel, or even of understanding it. I wanted, always, to convey Christina’s inner life in a way that shed light on her behavior and revealed motivations that would help the reader understand why she acted the way she did. It wasn’t easy; in real life she did things that were odd, even inscrutable. It was a wonderful exercise for me as a novelist, actually – I had to work backwards from the behavior to the impulses that created them. The result, I think, is a less predictable, less conventional narrative – more like real life.

6. What other books would you recommend to readers who enjoyed A Piece of the World? Other novels about artists? Non-fiction accounts of Andrew Wyeth and/or Christina Olson?

For those interested in learning more about Wyeth and his relationship with Christina Olson, I recommend Richard Meryman’s elegant and comprehensive biography, Andrew Wyeth: A Secret Life. A slim biography of Christina, written by her niece Jean Olson Brooks and Deborah Dalfonso, is full of rich detail; it is currently out of print but not impossible to find: Christina Olson: Her World Beyond the Canvas. (For more suggestions in this vein, see my acknowledgments.) Girl with a Pearl Earring, by Tracy Chevalier, remains one of the most compelling portraits of an artist’s muse I’ve read. I also recommend The Last Nude, by Ellis Avery; Strapless, by Deborah Davis; The Hours, by Michael Cunningham; and May Sarton’s brilliant journals and memoirs about her life in rural solitude.