Still Life

“The truth is I don’t know whether Fair Day is a brilliant example of naïve art, or the pathetic scrawling of a superbly untalented, and delusional, old woman. That’s the tension. And that’s why it must be part of the show.”

Here, the chairperson of the local art society explains her reasoning for accepting Jane’s painting. At first glance, it appears childish and immature, unschooled as Jane was in artistic technique. Over time, and throughout the novel, Jane’s art reveals a great depth of wisdom and insight, even contributing to the solving of two murders.

“No, inspector, people don’t change.”

Ben expresses his cynical view that people tend not to change. His statement turns out to be a confession of sorts, since we later learn that Ben commits murder in an attempt to keep his life—and the ease with which he lives it—from changing. His view of the possibility for personal change is contrasted with that of Myrna and Gamache.

“The lunch progressed, the officers sitting around listening and thinking out loud, in an atmosphere that encouraged collaboration. He strongly believed in collaboration, not competition, within his team.”

Ready collaboration forms the basis of Gamache’s team ethic. Nichol’s inability or unwillingness to adopt that ethic eventually proves her downfall. Gamache’s open, communal approach also contrasts with the more individualistic work patterns practiced by artists such as Clara and Peter.

“Few people understood so quickly that most premeditated murders were about rancid emotions, greed, jealousy, fear, all repressed. As Gabri said, people don’t see it coming, because the murderer is a master at image, at the false front, at presenting a reasonable, even placid exterior.”

“Few people understood so quickly that most premeditated murders were about rancid emotions, greed, jealousy, fear, all repressed. As Gabri said, people don’t see it coming, because the murderer is a master at image, at the false front, at presenting a reasonable, even placid exterior.”

“And this, Agent Nichol, is the key. It’s choice. […] We choose our attitudes. We may not think so. We may not believe it, but we do. […] Life is choice. All day, every day. Who we talk to, where we sit, what we say, how we say it. And our lives become defined by our choices.”

Gamache teaches Nichol that the accumulation of choices shapes a person’s life. His counsel proves prescient, as Nichol’s later thoughts reveal that she tends to frame herself as a victim, not an agent of change. When Gamache later dismisses Nichol, he does so after she makes a series of choices that he abhors.

“Crime was deeply human, Gamache knew. The cause and the effect. And the only way he knew to catch a criminal was to connect with the human beings involved.”

While Gamache certainly takes physical evidence into account during his investigation, it is personal matters that take precedence. In this case, even though most of the physical evidence points toward the Crofts, Gamache’s insights gained from personal connections prove essential to solving the case. Gamache’s approachability is not just a front; he ends up making several friends in Three Pines during the investigation.

“Homes, Gamache knew, were a self-portrait. A person’s choice of color, furnishing, pictures. Every touch revealed the individual. God, or the Devil, was in the details. And so was the human.”

Gamache considers a person’s home to reflect his or her identity. This idea proves true in several of the homes he visits, including Yolande’s, Jane’s, Clara’s, and Ben’s. Since a home can give away so much information, Still Life also features attempts to control or cover homes, as Ben tells lies about Timmer’s home and Yolande covers Jane’s art with tacky wallpaper.

“Life is loss. But out of that, as the book stresses, comes freedom. If we can accept that nothing is permanent, and change is inevitable, if we can adapt, then we’re going to be happier people.”

Myrna observes the ubiquity of loss in life and ponders an ideal way to respond. Still Life chronicles, among other things, Clara’s attempt to adapt following the loss of her best friend, Jane. Working through her grief proves to be a long and difficult process, but she finds peace as she accepts her sorrow, then allows it to run its course even as she moves forward with new artistic and personal endeavors.

“Life is change. If you aren’t growing and evolving you’re standing still, and the rest of the world is surging ahead. Most of these people are very immature. They lead ‘still’ lives, waiting […] for someone to save them. Expecting someone to save them or at least protect them from the big, bad world. The thing is no one else can save them because the problem is theirs and so is the solution.”

Myrna describes a passive, reactive, defensive lifestyle that resists change. Her insistence that “no one else can save” such individuals from themselves, earned after years spent as a psychologist, could aptly be applied to Ben, Yolande, or Nichol. This holds true despite the best efforts of Timmer, Clara, and Gamache, respectively.

“But a good brain isn’t enough. […] You have to use it. And you don’t. You look, but you don’t see. You hear, but you don’t listen.”

In addressing Nichol, Gamache distinguishes between having capacity or talent and putting it to use, echoing earlier comments about the centrality of choice. Nichol’s talent for critical thinking is manifest on several occasions, but it is often misapplied. Too often, she thinks and acts as if in a vacuum, without an understanding of how her actions will impact others.

“Gamache felt deeply sorry for Yolande. Not for the pain she felt, but for the pain she didn’t feel. He prayed, in the silence, that one day she wouldn’t have to pretend to emotions, other than resentment, but could actually feel them.”

By allowing her obsession with image to dominate her life, Yolande modifies her underlying persona, losing touch with deeper emotions. All that remains is her carefully crafted shell. Since she exists only to impress others, her own initiative and personality all but vanish.

“Living our lives was like living in a long house. We entered as babies at one end, and we exited when our time came. And in between we moved through this one, great, long room. Everyone we ever met, and every thought and action lived in that room with us. Until we made peace with the less agreeable parts of our past they’d continue to heckle us from way down the long house. And sometimes the really loud, obnoxious ones told us what to do, directing our actions even years later.”

Gamache believes that everything a person experiences shapes them into who they are, cumulatively. There are hints, as when he is momentarily stung to lose his badge, that he was once not so different from Nichol, insecure at the outset of his career. He continues to occasionally experience impulses contrary to his established persona, but he lets them pass without acting on them.

“Timmer told Myrna about Jane’s parents, prisoners of their own insecurities and fears. Those fears passed on to the sister Irene, who had also become a social climber and searched for security in objects and the approval of others. But not Jane.”

Jane is an outlier within her family, with Yolande being a more typical member. Though Jane has little interest in the material or social concerns of her immediate family, she does suffer at their hands, as they block her planned marriage and forbid her from attending art school. Despite these challenges, Jane lives a rewarding life as a teacher and even as an artist, though it takes decades for her to summon the courage to present her art to others.

“They say time heals. I think that’s bullshit, I think time does nothing. It only heals if the person wants it to. I’ve seen time, in the hands of a sick person, make situations worse. They ruminate and brood and turn a minor event into a catastrophe, given enough time.”

Here, ever-cynical Ruth acknowledges that the mere passage of time is not sufficient to improve negative situations. She speaks from experience, as she harbors regrets of her own, including her decision to interfere with Jane’s happiness by telling her parents of her planned elopement. However, Ruth’s ability to let go of the past demonstrates the possibility of change, even late in life.

“Like the blind. […] It was such a perfect and appropriate image. Of being blind. Of the people who use the blind not seeing the cruelty of what they did, not seeing the beauty of what they were about to kill.”

Clara refers to hunters who kill animals, but her words apply equally well to murderers and others who commit cruelty without regard for the consequences. Of course, hunters are far from blind in the literal sense—just the opposite. Instead, they fail to recognize the value of the things they destroy, just as Ben either failed to anticipate or didn’t care about the pain and suffering that would ensue following Jane’s death.

“With relief she realized she needn’t tell her father anything. After all, it wasn’t her fault.”

Nichol was raised on made-up stories about political oppression in Czechoslovakia, and her primary motivation is to advance in the police force to impress her father. When her opportunity crumbles, she doesn’t stop to evaluate her choices. Instead, she assigns blame to Gamache. By deflecting blame, she eliminates any pressure to change as a result of her experiences.

“They waited for life to happen to them. They waited for someone to save them. Or heal them. They did nothing for themselves.”

Explaining Ben’s behavior, Gamache recapitulates Myrna’s description of those who lead “still” lives. In retrospect, the emptiness of Ben’s life is manifest in the small details. He doesn’t cook or clean, has no real profession or family responsibilities, and lives on his mother’s property. The only time he does act for himself is to ward off a threat to his comfortable existence, killing two people in the process.

“How could they have been so gullible? How could Bens’ words have been stronger than Timmer’s actions? Ruth was right. Timmer had been nothing but tolerant, kind, and generous.”

After learning that Ben was the murderer, Peter and Clara are left to wonder how he fooled them. They realize that, in addition to concealing his own wayward character, Ben tarnished Timmer’s reputation through his lies. Their realization connects with Penny’s exploration of appearance versus reality, demonstrating the risks of judging anyone or anything by secondary sources.

“It’s ironic. […] He thought his face in Fair Day gave him away. But what gave him away was erasing his face. Had he left the picture as it was he’d never have been caught. He’d been passive all his life. The one time he actually acts he condemns himself.”

Peter’s comments highlight Ben’s crucial mistake. By attempting to remove what he considered evidence of his guilt, Ben only drew attention to it. His paranoid misreading of the painting, a tribute to his mother, demonstrates just how far removed he was from normal, healthy thoughts and feelings.

“In my experience people who have been hurt either pass it on and become abusive themselves or they develop a great kindness.”

When Gabri and Olivier ask Gamache whether he ever suspected them of killing Jane, he responds that he considered such an outcome unlikely, since the two of them have been hurt in the past, including recently, because of bigotry. Gamache’s awareness of choice again informs his judgment, since he recognizes that those who are hurt can either pass pain along or break the cycle. Gabri and Olivier’s willingness to break the cycle is evident in their desire to help Philippe come to terms with his identity.

“Philippe didn’t hate his father. No. Philippe hated himself, and took it out on his father.”

Philippe’s anger stems not from the fact that he is gay, but from the shame he associates with being gay, which leads him to repress his feelings. Philippe’s shame is compounded by Bernard, who bullies and blackmails him. Penny implies that, for Philippe to regain a sense of self-worth, he will need both confidants, including loving parents, and role models, including Olivier and Gabri.

“One day she knew he’d leave his safe and sterile island and come back to this messy mainland. When he did she’d be waiting, her arms open, as always.”

Peter and Clara’s relationship is marked by various tensions. Following Jane’s death, Clara withdraws from Peter for a time, but Peter persists in caring for her until they are reconciled. Here, near the end of the novel, Peter withdraws from Clara following the loss of his friendship with Ben. As before, Clara persists in showing affection to Peter with confidence that they will soon grow close. The development of their relationship fits within Penny’s broader exploration of change, showing that people sometimes need to allow others time and space to change.

“‘And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household.’ Below it was the new instruction. ‘Surprised by Joy.’”

Clara switches her request for the inscription on Jane’s headstone from the first quotation to the second. Her decision reflects a mature, conscious choice to celebrate the good in Jane’s life rather than clinging to the hurt surrounding Jane’s death. By so doing, Clara herself is surprised by joy.