Pages: 39
Goes Well With: Cucumber and watercress sandwiches, scones with clotted cream, and Earl Grey Tea.
The Painter’s Tempest in a Teapot by Nancy A. Lindley-Gauthier is a strange little story. On the one hand it “paints” a quaint picture of a seaside town in 1920s Maine, but on the other hand it paints its female protagonist in a rather unflattering light.
At the beginning of the “book,” we are introduced to a group of women out for a day at the beach. The protagonist is Sarah, the “painter” from the book’s title. To be honest, I found Sarah to be rather obnoxious—she feels she is extremely fashionable and genteel, and far more sophisticated and intelligent than her friends. She is dating Errol, a lobster fisherman, but is so ashamed of his supposedly “lower” social status that she snubs him on the beach at the very beginning of the story. First of all, they’re all from Maine, so it’s not like they’re ones to talk about gentility and intelligence (ever hear that joke, “What do kids from Maine get on their SATs?” Answer: “Drool.”). No offense meant to Mainers, of course, but it just goes to show Sarah’s snobbery that she should hold herself higher than everyone she comes in contact with, including her sweetheart. And secondly, anyone who’s seen The Deadliest Catch can attest that lobstermen and fishermen can be absolutely dreamy (am I right, ladies?). We’re also introduced to Lilly O’Rourke, whom Sarah takes under her wing in order to find a husband. The ladies all decide to throw a garden party in the hopes that Lilly will find a match.
The bulk of Painter’s action takes place in Boston, where Lilly and Sarah et al go shopping for things to wear to the party. I was expecting the garden party to be the story’s climax, but in reality it was something of a bust. Sarah spends the whole time criticizing how the party was being run, and poor Lilly does get to dance with a gentleman but we never find out if it’s a love match because—lo and behold—Errol shows up. Errol and Sarah reconcile, he introduces her to his friends as his “sweetheart,” Sarah realizes she loves him after all, and that’s it. The end.
I really think Painter’s could have been improved with a little more length. Why does Sarah so desperately feel the need to elevate herself socially? What does Errol see in her? Perhaps her family disapproves? Does Lilly get the man, or just a dance? A lot of these questions could easily be answered if the author would have gone into some more depth regarding the plot. Being a New Englander myself I enjoyed her depiction of coastal Maine, but I struggled to ascertain the time period right away. The ladies were discussing “bloomers” at the beach, so I thought it was set closer to the turn of the twentieth century. It wasn’t until someone mentioned “the law forbidding spirits” that I realized the whole thing was set in the 1920’s, the era of prohibition.
Basically, A Painter’s Tempest in a Teapot was a lot like Sarah’s garden party—not a smashing success, but not a complete failure either.