A Reflection on van Gogh’s Sunflowers

& a book review of Sunflowers: A Novel of Vincent van Gogh by Sheramy Bundrick

“It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done.”

—Vincent van Gogh

I’ve always found a specific elegance in fiction novels based on artists, musicians, and other creators that helped shape history as we see, hear, and read it.

While it is safe to assume a great deal of creative license is taken by the authors of these stories, the tales they tell help us by offering a sense of “being” with the artist. They allow us to spend a few days with the historical figure as we follow them on their adventures, enjoying with them their happy endings—or, in the case of this of this man, their tragic final chapters.

Today’s reverie was brought on by a book I just finished called Sunflowers: A Novel of Vincent van Gogh. It is rich with color and emotion. Like the yellow of the flower for which it is named, there are moments of happiness and light; these moments tend to be brief, as if the artist painting the picture has decided all of a sudden to use a different palette where every shade is muddy.

It is an excellent way to represent the way Vincent van Gogh’s emotions could change at the drop of a (straw) hat.

On the topic of the hat, I cannot help but mention how brilliantly it was used in this novel as a plot device. The main character is a young prostitute named Rachel with whom Vincent falls in love. The book is told in her viewpoint, and she first spots the strange foreign artist when he is painting in the woods, wearing a straw hat.

A straw hat. This object, simple and humble, becomes a symbol of love and hope. Rachel finds herself searching the streets for a straw hat, knowing it is unlikely she will find another man who would wear it among the haughty and well-dressed.

This is a plot device used the right way: the author took a simple object and made it something emotionally relevant to the protagonist. It gained value that way. I will think of the novel in question for the rest of my life when I see a straw hat.

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The painting called Sunflowers is special to me in a personal way, as well. I have seen one of Vincent’s sunflower paintings in person.

In 2019, I went with my mom and brother on a dream trip to Europe. One of the places that we visited was the National Gallery in London, where some of the most esteemed pieces of art are on display. Tourists and locals alike visit to marvel at what the human imagination is capable of creating, given a brush and palette.

We went rather late in the day, so we did not have time to explore the whole museum. However, as we were rushing from salon to salon, making the best of it, we stumbled into one exhibit where I found myself breathless with wonder—for I was staring at a painting I had seen many times before. Before me was the painting Sunflowers!

I was admiring colors that had become beautiful and famous after the death of the painter. I was in the presence of a master, because surely van Gogh’s spirit lurks in every piece of art that he created in life. It is a feeling I am never going to forget.

Sunflowers has always seemed to me as if it was painted in an effort by Vincent to lift his own spirits. After all, every account I’ve read describes him as having been melancholy. When he was passionate about a project, nothing could steer his concentration—but when his spirits dropped, he would do things that he’d later regret, such as cutting off his own ear.

I believe that part of van Gogh’s great popularity now, so long after his death, is due to studies in mental health. These studies revealed that such behaviors have explanations—and such illnesses have treatments, a fact which helped lift the taboo.

Unfortunately, in Vincent’s time, the medication that might have been able to help him had not yet been created. He lived his life in fear of his own mind, eventually shutting himself into an asylum where he could not hurt himself (though I’d wager there are instances when he tried).

Sunflowers is beautiful because it rings as a cry for help—a downcast spirit reaching for the heavens. It will continue to inspire people until the end of time, even if few share my fortune of running into it by accident.

It’s tragic that even those sunflowers could not save him, in the end, from his own demons.

I hope Vincent’s art can inspire people who struggle mentally and spiritually today to seek help. The world could not save him, but his work can—and does—aid in healing the world. Art is such a great medicine.

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Now, for the actual book review.

Sunflowers: A Novel of Vincent van Gogh by Sheramy Bundrick is told from the point of view of Rachel, the prostitute he fell in love with. The story shows in tender, heartbreaking detail how they bonded in a world prejudiced against them.

After all, they were both outcasts—Rachel was judged because of her profession (she did not like her job, but what other choice did she have in a world where poor women were helpless?) Meanwhile, Vincent was mocked by the locals as a broke, unhinged painter.

It’s not long before they fall in love and begin to dream of starting a family. 

Self-Portrait, Vincent van Gogh

This dream is not to be, though, for many reasons.

To start with, Vincent doesn’t have sufficient funds to maintain a family; he can barely keep himself fed, and is forced to ask his brother Theo for money. Worse than that, though, is that Vincent is ill. He constantly loses himself in fits of mania or melancholy. We all know the famous incident during which he cut off his ear.

It is a tender novel, in spite of the many obstacles preventing Rachel and Vincent’s love. We see hope springing in both of their hearts as they begin to plan a marriage and family.

Unfortunately, these plans begin at the time when his hallucinations worsen. A series of traumatic events causes Vincent to topple further into oblivion. His illness pulls him away from Rachel and into his own misery, even as he makes feeble attempts to fight, for her sake.

He loves her; he wants to give her a respectable life with a home, a place where she is secure, her lonely and tragic history a thing of the past.

Though we as optimists don’t wish to accept this fact, two broken people can seldom do much for one another, if they are not offered adequate support from those around them.

Rachel and Vincent are both alone in the world. While Theo sends Vincent money and letters, he has a wife and child. Vincent does not wish to rely on his brother forever. His dream of starting a painter’s guild with Paul Gauguin falls through. With it, I think he also begins to give up on painting. Even when he tries painting portraits in the hopes of earning money, people do not like his work.

For the character of Vincent, it’s one step forward and two steps back—until there is only a chasm behind him. The world was not ready for his brilliance, and it was not willing to offer him the help and compassion he deserved.

He left us hundreds of beautiful paintings, including Sunflowers, but I wish that he could have known—could have had just an inkling—of how celebrated he is today.

If you, dear reader, ever find yourself in a situation where life seems too heavy—where you cannot go on—I beg and plead that you reach out for help. Paint your sunflower and let its vibrant yellow soak into your soul.

I like to imagine that if Vincent had the chance to speak once more, he would offer the same advice.

There is hope for you, friend; there is always hope. Look for your sunflowers. I promise you, they’re there.