THE UNDERPAINTING

An old photograph inspires a woman to travel to Maine in search of information regarding her dead mother in Rolnick’s novel.

Sealy Morris, who is approaching 60 years of age, finds a picture of her mother, Mary, and a man she does not recognize; on the back, a stamp indicates the snapshot was taken in Maine in 1951. Sealy is reminded of a trip she took as a child to Maine with her mother, an excursion on which they met a man who was not her father. She also finds a postcard written with a certain intimacy and simply signed “R.” She can’t help but wonder if her mother once had an affair. In thoughtful terms typical of Rolnick’s novel, Sealy’s predicament is movingly described: “If she left her mother’s past alone, her own life seemed flat. If she pursued her mother’s relationship to the Hawk House, the flatness would take form—like an origami swan. She wanted to know, yet she feared the future. The consequences would be more permanent than a paper creation.” Sealy is able to trace the postcard back to Ogunquit, Maine, to a home owned by the Morris family—they are obviously acquainted with her mother, but also guardedly secretive about the connection. She finally figures out the relationship of Richard, the elder statesman of the family (who is soon to die of cancer), to her mother and father. Sealy is as enlivened by the experience as she is daunted; she begins to paint again and flirts with the possibility of a romance with Paul, Richard’s son. The novel’s plot can move at a painfully slow shuffle, and the narrative is rife with earnest sentimentality (the Hallmark card–like conclusion in particular). Still, this is an intelligently conceived tale, one in which Sealy’s sense of self is gravely challenged. For all of its flaws, this is a poignant story, introspective and powerfully dramatic.

An affecting tale about the power of family secrets.