The Objects of Her Affection

by Sonya Cobb

  Sophie browsed some moldy paperbacks stacked on a card table, then noticed a silver hand mirror lying next to them. She picked it up. The back and handle were busy with cast daisies and violets; across the glass, a yellowed piece of masking tape said “$1.00.”

  Just yesterday, she’d given a slightly older silver mirror to Brian, along with a printout of the mark the Met curator had emailed Harry. She’d also handed him a photocopy of Perspectiva Corporum Regularium, Jamnitzer’s book, whose title page design was replicated around the mirror’s frame. She’d waited a little while to give it to him, letting the dust settle after the raid and the arrest and the commotion in the papers, waiting until the museum trustees, delighted about the recovery of the museum’s objects, had voted to reinstate him.

  “I thought we’d keep this one just between us,” she’d explained. “I didn’t want people finding out you had a Jamnitzer sitting on a cart in your office with no object card.”

  “I wouldn’t have a Jamnitzer sitting on a cart in my office.”

  “But you did.”

  He’d laughed it off, dismissed the printouts, complained about the registrar, disputed the mark, and then, finally, lapsed into confused silence.

  “Just give this to Michael and tell him you found it in storage,” Sophie told him. “Let him publish it. He can take all the credit. It’ll distract him from his poor little tazza.” Apparently, Michael was irritated that his recovered tazza had been so thoroughly upstaged by the rest of the artwork seized in Hansei’s townhouse. Among the items creating a stir were several stolen paintings, including a large and unusual seascape by Rembrandt.

  Sophie eyed the woman on the porch; she was looking toward the road, watching cars drive by. Sophie turned the flowery hand mirror around and around in her hand, weighing it, taking its measurements. She smiled, imagining what Harry would say about it. Poor Harry. He was probably furious about Hansei’s arrest, but he’d get over it.

  She looked over to where Brian stood, one forearm across his torso, the other elbow resting on it, his curled knuckles against his lips. He looked up, caught her eye, and beckoned to her. She set the mirror down.

  “What do you think of this?” he asked, pointing at a small, rustic wooden bench. “I was thinking it would be nice to have in the—”

  “Vestibule. It’s perfect.”

  “The kids could sit on it while they put their shoes on. You could keep your shoes under there, too.” Maybe he hadn’t meant it as an invitation, but it came out that way, and she saw his ears flush as he realized it. Sophie cleared her throat and was about to say something about the nice finish on the bench, but Brian put out his arm and pulled her against him, and she curled into his body, pressing her cheek against his chest. In the distance, one of the swings squeaked rhythmically as Lucy pushed her brother. A car drove up, slowed, then sped away with a fading growl. Brian’s heart counted the seconds in its patient, forgiving way.

  Sophie made an offer on the bench, the woman counteroffered. Sophie shrugged and started walking away until the woman said, “Fine, take the damn thing.” Then Brian asked if she knew any places to pick pumpkins nearby, and she gave them directions to a farm a few miles down the road. They drove off, but as they emerged from the striped light of the woods into a small valley quilted with fields, they became distracted by the view and missed their turn. Brian veered onto a narrower road which rambled alongside a creek for a while, leading them past an old stone mill with a doggedly turning waterwheel and then, around the next bend, to a red-painted covered bridge.

  “Look at that,” Sophie said to the children. “A house we can drive through!” As they rolled through the shadowy hush, then back into the brassy late-afternoon light, she marveled at the forgiveness of the landscape, and the solidity of carefully built structures, and the cautious, edifying pleasure of gratitude.

  Reading Group Guide

  1.Sophie’s motivations for stealing change over time. What feelings do you think compel her first theft?

  2.Do you think it’s significant that she chooses a mirror for her first theft?

  3.When Sophie steals the snuffbox, she feels “a wave of tenderness… In a strange way, she felt almost protective of the little thing.” What do you think Sophie has in common with these objects, which have been left sitting, unprotected, in a museum hallway?

  4.Sophie believes that the right house can provide her family with a stable, happy life. Can you think of examples from your own life where you’ve focused all your hopes and energy on the wrong thing? Why do you think we do this?

  5.Sophie writes to Brian that motherhood is “simultaneously the most defining and most alienating experience I’ve ever had.” What do you think she means by that?

  6.Sophie makes a lot of financial decisions without involving Brian. Do you think Brian is complicit in this behavior? Does he deserve any blame for it?

  7.Do you think Brian is completely to blame for his lack of involvement with the children, or has Sophie made it difficult for him? Do you think this is a common pattern between spouses?

  8.After Sophie applies for the “option ARM” mortgage, she takes the kids to Johnny Rockets, where the waitstaff dance to the song “Last Dance.” What do you think the significance of that song is?

  9.Sophie envies Brian’s success, his passion for his work, and the fact that his career hasn’t been derailed by parenthood. Has envy ever motivated you to do something you knew was wrong?

  10.Value is a theme of the novel: the value we place on material goods, the value of real estate, the value of family. Brian says value is “a slippery concept,” and uses that to justify underpaying someone for a family treasure. What are some other ways characters (or institutions) play with value to suit their needs?

  11.Sophie thinks of mothers and daughters as a fractal: an endlessly repeating pattern. What are some of the behaviors Sophie wants to avoid repeating? Have you ever caught yourself repeating your parents’ mistakes? Do you think it’s possible to break the pattern?

  12.Harry runs his business in deference to his dead father, who apparently gives him instructions from beyond the grave. Do you think it’s unusual for someone to make decisions based on what they imagine a deceased parent might say? If you’ve lost a parent, do you continue having imaginary conversations with him or her?

  13.Most working mothers struggle with the work-life balance. Do you think Brian feels there’s an imbalance in his life? Do you think that men and women have different feelings about this issue?

  14.In the scene at the mall at Christmastime, Sophie is impressed by Lucy’s ability “to face the beardless, hairless truth, accept its implications, and move on.” What truth is Sophie starting to face during her visit to Cincinnati? What does she decide to do as a result?

  15.When Sophie learns the story of Jansz van Vianen, who gave up silversmithing to take over his father’s brewing business, she begins to feel even more tormented by thoughts of the tazza. Why do you think van Vianen’s story struck a chord with Sophie?

  16.Sophie only half believes that the Dutch tazza is hidden in her house, yet she tears the house apart looking for it. What do you think she’s really looking for? Why do you think she willingly damages her house in the process?

  17.Sophie isn’t the only thief in this story. Who else is guilty of stealing?

  18.Sophie has trouble accepting help from others. Do you think her upbringing had something to do with this tendency? Are there people in your life who have trouble asking for help?

  19.The story begins with a trip to pick strawberries, and ends with a trip to pick pumpkins. Compare and contrast the two outings. How have Sophie and Brian changed in the intervening time? How are those changes reflected in the mood of these scenes?

  20.Do you think Brian should take Sophie back? Why or why not?

  A Conversation with the Author

  1.Wh
ere did you get the idea for this book?

  When my husband and I first had kids, I struggled to keep my freelance business going while nursing, changing diapers, and renovating a Civil War era row house that needed lots of work. It was a pivotal moment in my life, when everything—priorities, expectations, hopes, and fears—changed quite suddenly and dramatically. My career receded into the background as I struggled to manage the demands of motherhood and family life.

  Meanwhile, my husband was pursuing the career of his dreams at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. I loved listening to his stories of dealers and collectors and all the behind-the-scenes plotting that went into every acquisition. I loved going to museum parties, and accompanying him on trips to Europe. I envied his comparative freedom, and the stimulating nature of his work life. At times I found myself living vicariously through him.

  Thinking about the contrast between our work lives, I wondered how a less stable character might react to the tensions I was experiencing. What if someone were driven a little crazy by her new life as a mother, and her longing for a more satisfying career? What if you threw financial pressure into the mix—like a house going into foreclosure?

  At the time, I was fascinated by the antiheroes who were becoming so popular on television: the drug dealing suburban mom in Weeds, the psychopathic forensic investigator in Dexter, the meth-cooking chemistry teacher of Breaking Bad. I love the idea of an ordinary person struggling with an irresistible secret vice. I thought it would be interesting to create a character who reacts to the challenges of motherhood by doing something awful—and then to follow her journey to redemption.

  2.Is it really that easy to steal things from a museum?

  No. The scenarios that allow Sophie to steal objects simply wouldn’t happen in a modern-day museum. Storage practices are quite rigorous, and visitors—even curators’ spouses—are never allowed to be anywhere near museum objects without an escort, and they’re never allowed to enter storage areas at all. The system of object cards that I describe has been replaced by collection management software such as The Museum System (TMS). I based Sophie’s idea for a computerized collection management system on TMS, which is widely used by most major museums to keep track of works of art.

  3.You obviously have a lot in common with Sophie, your main character. Did you base other characters in the book on real people?

  The only other “real” character in the book is Sophie’s row house. My husband and I renovated a very similar house in Philadelphia while our children were very small. I shared Sophie’s passion for that house’s sturdy Victorian proportions, honest materials, and lovingly crafted details. I personally ripped out all the shag carpet (and Ukrainian newspapers), tore down the drop ceilings, and demolished the seventies-era cabinetry while taking periodic breaks to pump breast milk. Fortunately, I didn’t get suckered into a bad mortgage the way Sophie does.

  4.Are the objects and artists in your story real?

  Some objects are real, and some are modeled after real objects. All of the artists mentioned are real. The Jamnitzer mirror is in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The van Vianen tazza is loosely based on a piece in the collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum. The Saint-Porchaire candlestick is in the collection of the National Gallery of Art. Het Scheepje (The Little Ship) is a period room you can visit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, as are the Ceremonial Tea House and the Temple of the Attainment of Happiness. The Rembrandt seascape was one of the paintings stolen from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in 1990; it has yet to be recovered.

  5.With two kids and a freelance business, how did you find the time to write this book?

  For a couple of years, I tried working on my manuscript during my free time, but I found it really difficult to gain momentum—especially since it was my first book. I had no idea what I was doing, and I kept throwing out my work and starting over from scratch. That didn’t get me anywhere, so I finally decided to take a year off from my job in order to focus full-time on the book. I was only able to do this because of a financial windfall, and because my freelance clients were very understanding. I realize what a luxury that year was. I have boundless admiration for writers who are able to finish novels while holding down full-time jobs, and I wonder how many talented writers will never be discovered because they are too busy trying to pay the rent and put food on the table.

  6.Was it hard to make yourself sit down and write every day?

  I sit down and write every day for my job, so that part wasn’t hard. What was hard was overcoming my insecurities about my writing. I made sure to include plenty of reading time in my daily schedule. Reading good books is the best writing education you can buy. The author Donald Ray Pollock went so far as to retype stories by great writers, to get the feel of their words into his bones. When I’m trying to improve my writing, that’s how I try to read—closely. Why did the author zoom in on that detail? Why did she summarize the dialogue here, instead of quoting it? How did she handle this transition? Etc.

  7.What did you read during that year?

  For pure literary beauty—lots of Updike (particularly the Rabbit novels), Paul Harding’s Tinkers, and Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson. Ian McEwan’s book Saturday taught me about slowing down time and getting inside granular, moment-by-moment observations. Jane Smiley’s novella The Age of Grief sat open on my desk for most of the year; I was incredibly inspired by her ability to assemble the nuts and bolts of domestic life into a story of incredible emotional force. I also reread my favorite Michael Frayn novel, Headlong, which is a hilarious account of amateur art theft, greed, shame, and marital implosion. Great stuff.

  Acknowledgments

  My deepest thanks to all the early readers, advisers, and friends who helped along the way: Amy Conklin, Kathryn Craft, Felicia Crosby, Brett and Maia Cucchiara, Nic D’Amico, Collette Douaihy, Mike Drazen, Stew Ellington, Karen Engelmann, Holly Fiss, Nell McClister, Kelly Simmons, Karen Stephenson Shore, Corey Wise, and Robert Wittman. Three cheers to my intrepid agent, Adam Schear, and my editor, Shana Drehs; many thanks also to Lucy Stille. Profound gratitude to Ed and Eulalia Cobb, Alison Cobb, and Kathy Vaughan for lending me your eyes and your ears and your quiet rooms with desks. Big kisses to Jodi Cobb, Charlie and Janet Cobb, Lauren Cobb Silva, and Ashley de Coligny for making it all possible. And most of all, my eternal love and gratitude to my devoted husband and best friend, Pierre, for your good humor, good sense, and unwavering support through it all. I love you.

  About the Author

  Sonya Cobb is an author and advertising copywriter. She lives in Westchester County, New York, with her two children and her husband, a curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.