LOS
ANGELES — The starting point for Marisa Silver’s new
novel, "Mary Coin," was a moment of genius
that unfolded on a California roadside more than 70
years ago.
Just
outside the coastal valley town of Nipomo in 1936,
photographer Dorothea Lange spotted a migrant farmworker
family sitting in a tent off U.S. Highway 101. After a
few minutes of conversation, Lange snapped six shots of
a mother and her children. The sixth became the defining
American photograph of the Great Depression.
Silver,
a writer with a sharp eye for the visual (she began her
artistic career as a filmmaker) saw that photograph in a
2009 exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.
Known as "Migrant Mother," it shows two small
children clinging to a woman in her 30s, her face fixed
in a timeless expression of tenderness, poverty and
fortitude.
"I’d
seen the photograph before — it’s unbelievably
magnetic," said Silver, an L.A. resident, sitting
at Stories, a local bookstore and cafe. But she was
surprised by the curatorial description that accompanied
the image. "It said that the woman in the
photograph had never revealed who she was until she was
sick and dying. That really just knocked me over."
Only
at the end of her life, nearly 50 years later, did
Florence Owens Thompson, the subject of one the most
famous pictures of the 20th century, step forward to
say, "That’s me." Silver wondered why.
"Was
she embarrassed, ashamed, disenfranchised?" Silver
asked. "There’s so many stories there I wanted to
understand."
Thus
began a three-year process of research and artistic
exploration that culminates this month with Silver’s
fifth work of fiction. In "Mary Coin," Lange
and Thompson, the real-life historical figures, are
reincarnated as fictional characters: photographer Vera
Dare and her most famous subject, the migrant farm
worker and mother of seven, Mary Coin.
The
novel is a multi-generational saga that begins in 1920s
Oklahoma and reaches into the first years of 21st
century California. It’s an intimate epic inspired by
two women whose paths crossed just once but whose real
lives have been diminished in history by the power of
that endlessly reproduced photograph.
"To
me, the picture is an artifact," Silver said.
"I’m interested in history. How it is made, how
it is told and how it is interpreted. History is not
objective, it’s a subjective thing. ... We never
really know what happened."
Silver’s
novels and fiction often treat themes of parenting and
family relationships, and she dives deep into motherhood
and child-rearing in "Mary Coin."
The
real-life Florence Owens Thompson remains an enigma.
"There’s maybe 12 things publicly known about
her," Silver says. But the title character of
"Mary Coin" comes alive as a deeply sensual
and resourceful woman — who also happens to have seven
children.
"One
of the first things I knew about her as a character was
that she was a sensual person," Silver says.
"I was working backward from the question, ‘Who
is this woman who chooses to have this many children?’"
Mary Coin loves her children, and she brought those
children into the world because she was a woman
unashamed of her own desires. "That’s a big part
of who she is."
In
her novel, Silver evokes the eastern Oklahoma of Mary
Coin’s youth with a series of imagined scenes built
around the real-life landscape, towns and attitudes of
the 1920s in that famously hardscrabble corner of
America.
Mary
grows up in a house built of sod that has walls alive
with "worms and centipedes and colonies of
ants," making it possible for her "to imagine
that her family lived underground, and that the house
was nothing but a cave dug into dirt." After Mary
courts a good-but-frail young man and gets pregnant for
the first time, she has a heart-rending honeymoon in her
town’s only hotel.
Silver
has grandparents from Oklahoma, but she wrote most of
her novel in her Hollywood Hills home — during the
hours her two teenage sons were in school. Her research
included immersing herself in Depression memoirs,
stories about families surviving and finding happiness
in that time of need.
"They
didn’t just starve; they also danced," Silver
said. "And they remembered the funny games their
mothers played with them."
Like
Florence Owens Thompson, the fictional Mary is "not
a victim," Silver said. And yet when Mary and Vera
Dare meet in Silver’s novel, Mary happens to be very
near the end of her rope, as desperate and hungry as she’ll
ever be.
In
real life too, Lange encountered a woman who was
destitute. The other five images Lange shot that day —
she was working for a federal documentary project —
are disturbingly bleak. Thompson’s four children are
dressed in ragged clothes, their faces are soiled:
Photographed from a distance, Thompson looks like she’s
cowering inside her family’s crude tent.
For
her final shot, Lange pulled much closer and asked the
children at Thompson’s side to turn — "Migrant
Mother" was the result. Lange’s genius was to see
and capture Thompson’s essential dignity even at her
lowest moment. Silver is equally generous and insightful
with the photographer and subject.
Silver’s
experience in filmmaking helped her create the fictional
photographer Dare. Her mother, Joan Micklin Silver, was
part of a pioneering generation of female directors. And
Silver herself has worked on documentaries and features.
It’s
wrong to think that a camera can capture an
"objective" truth, Silver said. Even the
simple framing of an image is an act of interpretation.
"You can’t take a photograph at face value,"
Silver said. "You have to understand what happens
around a photograph to understand what it really
means."
"Migrant
Mother" captures a fraction of a second. "Mary
Coin" unfolds over decades. Silver adds a mystery
that takes the story to the Central Valley and
eventually to the last days of the famous photographer
and her equally famous subject.
"I
wanted to see them at the end, because I wanted to know
what their final reckoning was with this photograph that
had defined their lives in such a huge way."
In
"Mary Coin," Silver takes a picture and spawns
the proverbial thousand words many times over. The
result is a stirring human portrait of two women and the
times they lived in.