Vincent in Tucson

By Steven Bye

The compilation of this writing in a fictional format was my way of conveying the unquestionable appeal equally to those who are already familiar with Van Gogh as well as to those with less knowledge of art and history.

I was always faced with the challenge of finding new ways to inspire my students as a high school art teacher. One way that seemed to work most often was adding some type of adventure to the subject at hand.

I invite you to explore the larger-than-life characters from Arizona and Europe from the late 1800s that I have woven into this fictional adventure.


Reviews

An adventure from beginning to end! Steven has captured the beauty and spirit of the Old Pueblo, its surrounding areas, and what makes it southwest such a treasure. The characters are what make the journey so believable. Well done! (Andy Bastine).

I found, while reading Vincent in Tucson, an amazing connection between the historical perspective of his work and a fictional story that connected me to a life (Don Brown; deputy superintendent, Arizona Department of Education).

More than a story, its a journey into two artists mindsVincent and the author. It takes a what-if story to a did-it story. You will crave to know more about Vincents life and death (Jodi Smith, art aficionado).

Only a very talented artist and teacher could possibly create this fascinating fictional account of Vincent van Goghs time in Tucson, Arizona (Gary Bruner, PhD; retired superintendent, Bend, Oregon public schools).

By any standard, one would have to say that, this time, Bye has come up with a doozy (J. C. Martin, Arizona Daily Star book reviewer).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524543198

Steven Bye

Steven Bye is a retired high school art teacher. He taught in Alabama, New Mexico, Michigan, and Arizona. He lives with his wife, Nancy, in Tucson, Arizona.

Book preview

Copyright © 2016 by Steven Bye.

Cover: Vincent’s (alias Maxwell Hamblin) Self-Portrait, 2013

Cover Illustrated: Steven R. Bye

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016915351

ISBN: Hardcover     978-1-5245-4321-1

Softcover     978-1-5245-4320-4

eBook     978-1-5245-4319-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/19/2016

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CONTENTS

Prologue

Acknowledgment

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 1 The Author’s Story

This book is dedicated to all public school teachers.

Those who educate children well are more to be honored than they who produce them, for these gave them life, those the art of living well.

—Aristotle

PROLOGUE

This is a total and complete work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of my vivid and outlandish imagination and were used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, or events is entirely coincidental.

The dialogues are drawn completely from my imagination and should never be construed as real or ever happening.

Most of the fiction is based on conjectures and theories that began to surface in the late 1920s. There has always been a special obsession surrounding the life of Van Gogh, and people seem to want more. I think everyone has a fascination with mental illness. Most of us know someone who struggles with a form of it.

One of my main theories has always been that great art is art that never gets old. That’s why people all over the world cannot get enough of Van Gogh.

I have studied his life and works extensively over the past twenty years. I often wondered what might have happened if he did make it to Japan. I guess I’m like everyone else; I wish he had lived longer so there was more of him to appreciate.

The book is all about What ifs, like did Jesse James live on under an assumed name? What would the world be like if Hitler died as a young starving artist? Would James Dean have been such an icon if he had lived longer? Did Hemingway have one great novel left inside him? Would Marilyn Monroe have faded into obscurity if she had lived into her seventies?

What does Vincent van Gogh mean to us? Perhaps he was put here as a test for modern humanity.

His fascinating story has been appealing on so many levels.

His painting style is easily recognizable, and when you get to the basics of his life (lack of success, severed ear, suicide, and posthumous success), you see a drama with an unfinished arc.

For a man who never stopped trying, who kept on going, I saw a fictional story with another five dramatic years.

I wanted to make Vincent van Gogh a new fictional hero by using the link between my writing and painting.

I dedicate these fictional characters to my readers because concentrating on what we already know would get pretty damn boring.

I’ve learned a lot from my characters; they have taken me to places I thought I could never go.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The effort in this book lies in the delightful journey of my imagination and the love of art and history. My wife, Nancy, and I have been to most of the places in Europe mentioned in this book, and we do live in Tucson.

Nancy deserves all the credit for making this resemble a piece of literary work. She helped me with structure and spelling. She toned down my imagination and kept me focused. There are no lines in the book that have given me more pleasure to write than these few lines that express my gratitude to my wife, Nancy Bye.

Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.

—Pablo Picasso

CHAPTER 1

Vincent turned his face upward toward the sky as a flock of crows flew overhead. After pressing a gun into his waist, he hesitated, winced, and then pulled its trigger. As he lay in a wheat field, his mind drifted back to the DeGroot family in The Potato Eaters, his first oil painting in which he felt a sense of confidence in his work.

Sometime later, he found himself slowly staggering into Ravoux Café. As he worked his way through the café toward his upstairs room, Madame Ravoux noticed blood on his clothes.

Vincent, what happened! she cried as she saw him steady himself against a billiard table.

Vincent remembered turning slowly and making some comment about one’s own destiny and how she needn’t worry. He vaguely remembered taking the stairs to his room.

At least that’s the story Vincent told Dr. Gachet as he examined the wound and found the bullet went through the upper abdomen from an oblique angle that could not have been self-inflicted.

You have lost some blood, Vincent! I’m concerned about clotting! Gachet said. But you are strong, and there is hope, my friend.

Gachet dressed the wound, then told Vincent to get some rest.

Would you get my pipe from my coat pocket for me, please? said Vincent.

Certainly, Vincent, and then I need to run a quick errand.

Paul, Vincent said as he was given his pipe, don’t blame anyone for this, and don’t accuse the boys.

Dr. Gachet stopped, turned around, and just stood there, saying nothing. He gave Vincent a long, discerning look, then left quietly and headed for the telegraph office. There he sent a telegram to Theo’s address at Cit’e Pigalle in Paris. He shared Vincent’s dilemma and asked him to contact Alexis Carrel, a medical student at the University of Lyons.

Carrel displayed a deft talent for dissection and surgery while working at hospitals in Lyons.

Friends of Gachet at the university suggested he come and intern for a few months with him. While working with Gachet, he had shared with him that he had devised a way to prevent blood clotting that was learned through embroidery lessons; it uses very fine needles and silk thread. Upon his return to Lyons, he had kept Gachet posted of his progress. Gachet was impressed with young Carrel.

Gachet knew that for Vincent to survive, he needed to find a way to stop the clotting. He also needed time to have the procedure done before the gendarmes began investigating. Arthur Ravoux, a friend of Vincent, was asked not to allow anyone into Vincent’s room until he was stable.

When Vincent’s brother Theo arrived at Goupils the following morning, he found Dr. Gachet’s telegram awaiting him.

He contacted Carrel and was surprised by how easy it was to convince him to come to Auvers. Theo and Alexis met in Pontoise; from there, they took a carriage to Auvers. Theo asked Carrel what Gachet meant by This is the time to try your method. Alexis Carrel explained his method in detail but told Theo he had not yet tried it on a human.

Theo, I feel confident that I’m ready to do the procedure successfully, but no one must know, or there will be dire consequences for all involved. Do you want to save your brother’s life? Carrel asked.

Most certainly, said Theo.

Then I will need your total support and secrecy for this procedure, Carrel replied.

Theo and Alexis arrived at Ravoux’s, and Dr. Gachet was able to get them upstairs without anyone noticing.

He stopped them both just outside Vincent’s room.

Theo, did Alexis fill you in on what must be done to save Vincent’s life? Gachet looked imploringly into Theo’s eyes as he spoke.

Yes, Dr. Gachet—whatever it takes to save his life. I also know this must remain a secret among the three of us.

Splendid. We must get started as soon as possible. I doubt Monsieur Ravoux can hold off the gendarmes much longer, said Gachet.

Theo walked into the room and sat beside Vincent’s bed. He held out his hand, and Vincent took it and smiled warmly at his brother. Vincent, you will survive this, and I feel better things will come for us all, proclaimed Theo. Do you remember when you wrote to me about the painting of Daubigny’s garden and how much meditating you did over it! You also mentioned how much you love art and life very much, but as for ever having a wife, you had no great faith in that.

Vincent took a puff of his pipe and said he remembered the letter quite clearly. Theo explained the procedure to Vincent, while Alexis and Dr. Gachet listened and found themselves impressed with the brothers’ devotion to one another.

Vincent, I’m here to give you faith in your future.

There was little time to spare; they locked the door and began.

Dr. Gachet meticulously prepared the surgical site with Alexis’s instructions and gave Vincent 0.12 moles of chloroform to induce about two hours of unconsciousness. Carrel coated needles, instruments, and thread with paraffin. It took him forty-five minutes to stitch three of Vincent’s blood vessels together by rolling back the vessel ends like cuffs and then stitching the turned-back ends together.

Gachet and Theo realized young Carrel was a genius and they had witnessed a medical breakthrough; however, they all took the secret to their graves. No mention would ever be made of the life-saving procedure performed on Vincent.

Vincent opened his eyes from what felt like a long and deep sleep. Theo was sitting next to his bed, writing a letter to Johanna.

Theo, you need to get back to Jo, Vincent said in a weak voice.

Theo set his pen down with a deep sigh, and as Vincent’s eyes started to focus, he could see Theo’s eyes watering.

Vincent, this has been a remarkable day. We are truly blessed.

Theo stood up, poured Vincent a glass of water, and held Vincent’s head up so he could drink. The water felt so cool and soothing to his throat; he drank two more glasses and cleared his throat to speak.

Theo, I have found a true friend in Dr. Gachet. He is something akin to another brother. So much do we resemble each other physically and mentally. He is a slightly nervous man with an odd behavior. He has extended much friendliness to the artists and has helped with some financing. Did I tell you I painted his portrait the other day and I plan on doing a painting of his daughter? He lost his wife a few years back. It has left him a lonely soul. I do believe his experience as a doctor is the only thing that keeps him balanced enough.

Theo paused before replying to Vincent. Monsieur Carrel stayed with you after the procedure while Dr. Gachet and I took his instruments back to his house. We did not want Monsieur Ravoux and the authorities becoming suspicious and walking in and seeing what we were doing. We knew the gendarmes were on their way. His house is full of dark antiques, and its walls are covered with paintings. The impression I got of him was not unfavorable. He spoke of Belgium and the old painters. I could see the stress leave his face and a smile form on his lips as he reminisced.

I would very much like to thank young Alexis for taking such a risk, Vincent said.

Sorry, Vincent. He is already in a carriage headed for Pontoise. Dr. Gachet has asked us to never correspond with him. It is the way it must be, said Theo.

Theo could tell Vincent was having a hard time gathering his feelings and knew he needed rest.

Theo, you must return to Paris. Johanna and little Vincent Willem need you. Enough is enough. Please return to your home and family. Vincent was feeling guilty for what he had put his brother through.

Theo knew how Vincent felt. He loved his brother and wanted him to understand he was always there for him, but it was time to leave. As you wish, Vincent, but will you please think of those who love and care about you? You must continue with your painting. The impressionist movement is gaining popularity. Goupil and Cie have an exhibit going on now with Degas and Manet. Theo pulled out a letter from his coat pocket and held it up to Vincent. This letter is why you must continue your work.

He sat down and began to read.

Theo, today I saw a red vineyard—all red like red wine. In the distance, it turned yellow, and then a green sky with the sun, the earth after the rain violet, sparkling yellow here and there where it caught the reflection of the setting sun.

Your loving brother,

Vincent

Theo continued to convince Vincent that a man who can see, describe, and paint such beauty has a place in this world.

With tears in both their eyes, Theo hugged Vincent and then handed him a folded piece of paper. Please read this after I leave. You will find it to be wonderful news and should boost your confidence.

Theo slowly walked down the stairs and found Madame Ravoux waiting for him. Madame, I would like to pay a month’s rent for Vincent and some extra for you to care for him. Does this sit well with you?

I would be happy to care for your brother and will keep you informed of his healing, Madame Ravoux replied.

Theo paid her and thanked her again for all she had done for Vincent.

Dr. Gachet had asked Theo to stop by before he left Auvers; he had some ideas about helping Vincent’s recovery, both mental and physical. An hour later, Theo was on his way back to Paris.

Vincent opened the note Theo gave him not long after Theo left the room. When Vincent finished reading the note, he realized how selfish and disconnected he had become. Little did he know that with the exception of a letter describing an unusual chain of events, that note was the last time he and Theo would correspond with each other.

Over the next week, Gachet would stop by daily and check on Vincent’s progress. Vincent became stronger each day, and by the second week, he was on his feet for a short time each day. After convincing the gendarmes that he accidentally shot himself and lost the revolver in the wheat field, his attitude became positive, and he began to do some sketches of Adeline Ravoux.

On the Monday of the third week, Madame Ravoux summoned Gachet at about seven in the evening; it seemed Vincent had developed a fever. When the doctor examined Vincent, he noticed he had developed a thick cough. He knew it had nothing to do with the wound as it was already far too late for it to cause an infection.

He asked Madame Ravoux to observe him during the night and to please report back the next day.

At four in the morning, there was a loud knock at Dr. Gachet’s door. He jumped out of bed and ran to the door. It was Arthur Ravoux, and he could tell something was wrong. Vincent has developed chills and night sweats, and he’s complaining of chest pains. You need to come at once, Arthur Ravoux said as he tried to regain his composure.

As they hurried to the café, Arthur Ravoux said that Madame Ravoux had noticed Vincent’s shortness of breath and little appetite. She said that at first, she thought they might be from his recovery, but they had only been worsening for the past three days.

When they got to Vincent’s room, Gachet noticed the heavy sweat on his face. He also noticed that Vincent had a handkerchief; on further observation, there was bloody mucus inside it.

Vincent, how long have you been coughing this up?

About an hour, Vincent replied in a raspy voice.

Gachet examined Vincent and in little time had a prognosis.

Vincent, you are in the early stages of tuberculosis.

I’m sorry, Doctor, but I’m not sure what that is, Vincent said weakly.

You know it as consumption, Vincent. Gachet went on to explain the symptoms and some options they had to treat it. He told Vincent there was little they could do as far as medicine was concerned but a change in climate might help.

Vincent, I know a place that would suit you, and you will find colors in the landscape there that your eyes have never seen.

Gachet paused for a reaction.

Go on, Doctor, Vincent said with interest.

Gachet went on to describe this faraway land of desert in the southwestern United States. He talked about an old friend he’d been writing to and how he could make arrangements for him to get settled in this place called Tucson in the United States territory called Arizona.

You need to leave soon—while the weather is warm and you still have some strength to travel. I will make arrangements for your trip. You can go from here to Madrid, then on to Lisbon where you will board a ship to New Orleans in America. Degas spent a year in New Orleans. Did you know his mother was born there? His younger brother, Rene, married their cousin, Estelle Balfour. She still lives in the French Quarter, and I’m sure she would love to meet you! Edgar is impressed with your use of color. He has shared his opinion with many.

Gachet paused for a moment to give Vincent time to take this all in and was a bit surprised when Vincent said, How do I get from New Orleans to this place called Tucson?

Gachet thought it would be nearly impossible to convince Vincent to leave, but he knew that Vincent’s life was in danger if he stayed, and tuberculosis wasn’t the only reason!

Adeline Ravoux saw two boys run past her from Monsieur Gosselin’s farmyard. When she reached Vincent, he was gathering his art materials and seemed to be in a great deal of pain. She also said he seemed to be looking for something else on the ground.

He told her he was fine and she should return home.

Vincent told Gachet he was in a wheat field when the incident occurred and said nothing about Adeline being there.

Gachet then noticed Vincent was waiting for a reply. Oh yes, my friend Alphonse wrote to me that in 1880, the Southern Pacific Railroad finally reached Tucson.

Gachet had been corresponding with his old friend Alphonse Lazard for years. Alphonse had moved from France to the United States years ago and had finally settled in Tucson, Arizona.

Gachet loved the stories of the Wild West, which are filled with cowboys, Indians, gunfights, and gamblers. Alphonse—or Frenchie, as the locals liked to call him—worked at a butcher shop owned by a man named Sam Hughes.

Sam had moved from Wales with a severe case of tuberculosis, and Frenchie said he was left outside the city walls to die but had regained his health. In one of his recent letters, Frenchie talked about more and more people moving to Tucson with tuberculosis and how the dry climate seemed to help. He also shared how beautiful the mountains, desert, and sunsets were.

Maybe a change is what I need.

Vincent’s comment brought Gachet abruptly out of his thoughts of the desert. If you would like, Vincent, I could write to Frenchie and Edgar today.

How long will I need to stay there? Vincent asked.

Depending on how fast you heal and how much a trip like this takes out of you… I would think at least a year.

Gachet knew this was a great deal of information for Vincent to absorb in such a short time but continued to stress how important it was for them to act fast.

Make the plans, Doctor, Vincent said after a moment’s pause.

It took Vincent three days to compose a letter to Theo. He thought it funny that what took moments to decide took days to explain.

The next day, Dr. Gachet brought in two letters he wanted Vincent to read. Vincent, I have letters that Frenchie wrote to me a few years back that I think will entertain you. He has a great way of telling stories about Arizona and the people who live there.

He handed the letters to Vincent. Gachet had shared some magazines with Vincent about the cowboy life with gunfights and gambling. Vincent seemed interested but had a hard time getting an image of how life would be in Tucson. Gachet knew Vincent would enjoy reading about and getting an idea of the new land that awaited him. Vincent opened the letters and began to read.

October 29, 1881

My Dear Friend,

Read in the paper about a real gunfight that happened in Tombstone, Arizona, a day’s ride by stagecoach from Tucson.

I am copying what was written in the local newspaper, the Arizona Daily Star, on the twenty-eighth.

"On Wednesday, October 26, Ike Clanton and Tom McLaury were arrested by Virgil Earp and charged with carrying firearms within the city limits. After they were disarmed and released, the two men joined Billy Clanton and Frank McLaury, who had just arrived in town. The men gathered at a place called the OK Corral on Fremont Street. Virgil Earp decided to disarm Billy Clanton and Frank McLaury and recruited Wyatt Earp, Morgen Earp, and Doc Holliday to help him with this dangerous task. Sheriff John Behan was in town, and when he heard what was happening, he raced to Fremont Street and urged Billy Clanton and Frank McLaury to hand over their guns to him. They replied, ‘Not unless you first disarm the Earps.’ Behan headed toward the advancing group of men. He pleaded for Virgil not to get involved in a shoot-out, but he was brushed aside,