Let's Choose Door No. 3

Turbulent Times, Transformative Choices and Redefining Normal.

What an experience for us to be here living in these turbulent times.

If only we had a crystal ball to know the future and what actions to take or what words to write or even how much of one’s “normal” life to hang on to.

History is littered with people that made the wrong call to stay put and got caught in genocide or natural disaster or other irrevocable change.

The past is full of people who on their deathbed wish they’d “had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”

Instead of choosing Door No. 1 or Door No. 2 for one’s life, to open it wide to an unexpected Door No. 3.

In these uncertain times, I’m looking for that kind of fresh answer.

And since these days I’m immersed in the promotion of the upcoming publication of my novel—no surprise, I guess—I’m taking some hints from my research into the true story of Jo van Gogh, the extraordinary woman that would not let Vincent die twice.

My novel is Saving Vincent, A Novel of Jo van Gogh, about how as a young widow, Jo (the famous artist’s sister-in-law) inherited Vincent’s art and instead of discarding the hundreds of unsold, worthless Van Gogh paintings, and instead of handing the artwork over to her husband’s artist friends, Jo took a different path.

Door No. 3.

A path so out of sync with cultural expectations and her own sense of identity she would never have even dreamed of the possibility until a catastrophe shook it loose.

How did she do that?

Her story carries ideas relevant for today.

Sudden Shift of Identity

I begin my novel with Jo’s shock at Theo’s unexpected death. It’s January 1891 and Jo is 29 years old with a 1-year-old son. They are in Paris where Theo had worked as an art dealer in a Goupil (later Boussod & Valadon) gallery on the outskirts of the city in Montmartre.

He was a tireless advocate for modern art, representing a number of upstart, unsuccessful artists: Camille Pissarro, Claude Monet, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, his brother Vincent.

That’s right: These artistic giants weren’t selling well yet, and Theo’s bosses were pissed. Theo wasn’t turning over art as he should.

So, now that Theo’s died, the Goupil gallery can be cleared out. The artwork Theo owned is now Jo’s. She is grieving, facing a sudden, unknown future without her husband. What did she know about herself?

She’s weak. She’s grown up under the prevalent belief that women have smaller brains. No stamina. Since childhood she’s taken to her bed whenever under stress. Now that Theo’s gone, Jo’s brother Dries proposes he become her guardian.
She can’t be a worker. It’s unheard of for a woman in Jo’s economic class to be in commerce. Lower-class women could be shopkeepers, but Jo’s father and Theo had livelihoods that supported the women in the family. In fact, Theo had supported his mother and sister Wil, in addition to Vincent and his own family.
She has no business in business. In the late 19th century, the Paris art scene is nuts. Thousands of young men have flooded the city in hopes of being discovered as artists. Art dealers are ruthless businessmen who act as gatekeepers against this tsunami of supply. This market is a dogfight. The only acceptable role women have are on the arm of their husbands who are cajoled and flattered into buying art guaranteed to seal their reputation as connoisseurs of culture.

So, with the cultural wind of conditioned thought blowing at her back and a lived experience of being coddled and cared for in her memory, Jo’s choices at Theo’s death are obvious.

Door No. 1: Discard the worthless paintings. Move back to her father’s house with the baby to Holland.
Door No. 2: Keep the paintings in Paris under the care of Theo and Vincent’s artist friends. Move back to her father’s house with the baby to Holland.

But no, shockingly Jo chooses another way. Notice (in brackets) how in one fell swoop she blasts through her old identity.

Raise her 1-year-old baby on her own [no more physical weakness] by moving to a small Dutch town where she’ll open a boarding house for income [work for a living], and take the hundreds of Van Gogh paintings with her to promote Vincent’s paintings herself [enter the art world dogfight].

Whaaa….??

She chose Door No. 3.

A door that hadn't existed.

A choice she independently imagined and then acted on.

Without Theo’s death as a catalyst, without having her back against the wall, Door No. 3 would likely never have come into existence. But once he was no longer there, she had an opening to think of a different life, discarded those old identities and conditioned knee-jerk reactions to try something brand new.

Through my 20/20 hindsight as a researcher, I know that Jo had gradually been prepared for this big change. In part, the unusual marriage of equals she and Theo enjoyed—in which she and Theo shared deep discussions about his gallery business and art—was a form of apprenticeship, though neither knew it.

It readied her for Door No. 3.

How Jo Inspires Me Now

Change is hard.

It’s tough to navigate against the current and into the fear of the unknown. For even a known, miserable situation can provide a sense of control.

“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”

It can feel safer and easier to go along with the flow until one’s back is against the wall. This has happened to me a few times. It can take a crisis to move inertia.

Including a crisis of conscience.

Here’s a current one: There’s a lot of talk about “others” in our cultural climate. There’s a bald manipulative effort underway to insist on a bipolar view of the world.

“Us” versus “them.”

Well, I’m not buying it. I know better. Our world is a beautiful landscape of multipolarity—many peoples, many languages, many cultures—all a family of humankind.

I refuse to buy into the antiquated belief that people not like me are enemies.

Aren’t we ready to move on from this outdated idea?

Didn’t we tackle this already?

I feel like we’re getting our backs shoved against the wall.

I don’t know what’s needed here but I do know like Jo that I can be willing to loosen limitations on my own assumptions and identity. To trust that you and I are prepared for what it takes to support an expansion of wellbeing in our society.

To practice concepts of love, friendship, compassion, humility and forgiveness as the way forward in opposition to “othering.”

Door No. 3.

Come on in.