Something That Cannot Die by Paula McClain is an Audible Original story of about 90-minute length, a first-person historical fiction biography, that relates one turning point in the artist Georgia O’Keefe’s life. Cynthia Nixon is the reader and does an okay job, though I hadn’t imagined O’Keefe’s voice sounded anything like the light sort of vanilla girlish tone we hear. The condensed story is maybe a familiar one of a woman, married to a much older, iconically famous and expectedly controlling (male) artist, the photographer Alfred Stieglitz. I thought it was okay, imagining an important moment in her life, but I'll say, if you know little about her, read whole biographies, get volumes of her art.
O’Keefe meets and marries the much older Stieglitz in her early twenties, enamored by his fame, flattered by his mentoring encouragement, but she is expected to be at home near him as he ages, and is ailing, and in spite of the fact that he is constantly unfaithful to her. She needs a new beginning with her artistic life and resisting his discouragement, moves west for a time to get a fresh start, but the jerk will not even visit her there in the desert. He didn’t want her to have children, though she did. And yes, she traverses the country between NYC and the desert so she can remain in some fashion with him.
O’Keefe in the desert meets Maria Chabot, who helps her to artistic and personal independence. The story is more about a woman’s need for space to accomplish her personal goals than her painting, really, which is fine except it feels more like light feminist allegory to me than a story of O'Keefe per se.
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I thought this short story to be solid but unremarkable, given the complexity of O’Keefe’s work, I was curious about McClain’s sources, and I initially found nothing until I saw that Goodreads reviewer Kathleen McCormick actually had written to McLain to ask about what she had drawn in to create her work. Here's what McClain said:
"In addition to steeping myself in a handful of the usual biographies, the real find was stumbling on the correspondence between O'Keeffe and Maria Chabot, 1941-1949, published by University of New Mexico Press, 2003."
At that moment I appreciated the book a bit as coming from more substance than I had imagined. It kinda made me want to read those letters, which the author would of course encourage. But I would have liked more about the actual art of a great artist.