Born of illustrious New England stock, Rachel Field was a National Book Award-winning novelist, a Newbery Medal-winning children's writer, a poet, playwright, and rising Hollywood success in the early twentieth century. Her light was abruptly extinguished at the age of forty-seven, when she died at the pinnacle of her personal happiness and professional acclaim.
Fifty years later, Robin Clifford Wood stepped onto the sagging floorboards of Rachel's long-neglected home on the rugged shores of an island in Maine and began dredging up Rachel's history. She was determined to answer the questions that filled the house's every crevice: Who was this vibrant, talented artist whose very name entrances those who still remember her work? Why is that work-so richly remunerated and widely celebrated in her lifetime-so largely forgotten today? The journey into Rachel's world took Wood further than she ever dreamed possible, unveiling a life fraught with challenge, and buried by tragedy, and yet incandescent with joy.
The Field House is a book about beauty-beauty in Maine island landscapes, in friendship, love, and heartbreak; beauty hidden beneath a woman's woefully unbeautiful exterior; beauty in a rare, delightful spirit that still whispers from the past. Just listen.
Fifty years later, Robin Clifford Wood stepped onto the sagging floorboards of Rachel's long-neglected home on the rugged shores of an island in Maine and began dredging up Rachel's history. She was determined to answer the questions that filled the house's every crevice: Who was this vibrant, talented artist whose very name entrances those who still remember her work? Why is that work-so richly remunerated and widely celebrated in her lifetime-so largely forgotten today? The journey into Rachel's world took Wood further than she ever dreamed possible, unveiling a life fraught with challenge, and buried by tragedy, and yet incandescent with joy.
The Field House is a book about beauty-beauty in Maine island landscapes, in friendship, love, and heartbreak; beauty hidden beneath a woman's woefully unbeautiful exterior; beauty in a rare, delightful spirit that still whispers from the past. Just listen.
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