Sometimes, you want to read a book in one setting and this was the only novel that I had that met my « short/ read in one-sitting » criteria.
I couldn’t remember reading something set or written by a Dutch authors. So I was please to discover that, although Tracy Chevalier is from the U.S.A., the action took place somewhere I was not familiar with (in a bookish sense of the world, I’m no traveler).
We follow a fairly young woman who has to work in order to provide for her family, since her father is no longer able to do so. She is sent as a servant for the big family of a painter. And she cannot help but be fascinated by his work… and his aura. I was please to realised that it did turn out to be an actual love story —nothing wrong with them, just didn’t fancy one at the time.
Yet, there is a sense of obsessionnal attraction between the two characters that created an edge, moments during which the reader stops breathing for a minute, anticipating if something will finally leave the imagination of the characters involved, whether or not they would let it win. It’s unsettling, addictive and I guess toxic and maybe manipulative if you consider how young, naive and unexperienced the main character is. That’s why the ending felt like I could breathe again; because somewhere, we know there is something that is not completely right to what they are feeling, something truly cruel.
But the difficulty to breathe was also a reflection of what the female character has to go through and what it makes us feel as contemporary women, priviledged in the rights that we now have. The novel suggests that the paternity of the work of this painter, this world-known painter is not completely his own… But he is male and a master, she is nothing and she doesn’t deserve recognition. Obviously, this is fiction but how many times did it happen in History? A man taking credits for someone else’s work (a woman, someone from a minority group with a voice). And all along those pages in which she is cleaning, the sense of dreadfullness of the task, the itch to take the colours into your own hands and have the freedom of creation. This room was so suffocating, even as the reader.
I enjoyed the parts where she would go in town, to the markets, etc. First because the painter’s wife is unsufferable but also because I realised that even the city had something heavy in its atmosphere. The war of religions are fresh and we can feel the strictness of the Protestant faith. That’s what made the book for me: its atmosphere, it had its own feeling, as if you were surrounded by fog and transported there.
Obviously, I cannot exactly jugde the writing as I’ve read a translation but I’m definitely curious of Tracy Chevalier’s other work
Have you read it? Did you watch the movie? Are you as obsessed with Colin Firth as I am?I couldn’t remember reading something set or written by a Dutch authors. So I was please to discover that, although Tracy Chevalier is from the U.S.A., the action took place somewhere I was not familiar with (in a bookish sense of the world, I’m no traveler).
We follow a fairly young woman who has to work in order to provide for her family, since her father is no longer able to do so. She is sent as a servant for the big family of a painter. And she cannot help but be fascinated by his work… and his aura. I was please to realised that it did turn out to be an actual love story —nothing wrong with them, just didn’t fancy one at the time.
Yet, there is a sense of obsessionnal attraction between the two characters that created an edge, moments during which the reader stops breathing for a minute, anticipating if something will finally leave the imagination of the characters involved, whether or not they would let it win. It’s unsettling, addictive and I guess toxic and maybe manipulative if you consider how young, naive and unexperienced the main character is. That’s why the ending felt like I could breathe again; because somewhere, we know there is something that is not completely right to what they are feeling, something truly cruel.
But the difficulty to breathe was also a reflection of what the female character has to go through and what it makes us feel as contemporary women, priviledged in the rights that we now have. The novel suggests that the paternity of the work of this painter, this world-known painter is not completely his own… But he is male and a master, she is nothing and she doesn’t deserve recognition. Obviously, this is fiction but how many times did it happen in History? A man taking credits for someone else’s work (a woman, someone from a minority group with a voice). And all along those pages in which she is cleaning, the sense of dreadfullness of the task, the itch to take the colours into your own hands and have the freedom of creation. This room was so suffocating, even as the reader.
I enjoyed the parts where she would go in town, to the markets, etc. First because the painter’s wife is unsufferable but also because I realised that even the city had something heavy in its atmosphere. The war of religions are fresh and we can feel the strictness of the Protestant faith. That’s what made the book for me: its atmosphere, it had its own feeling, as if you were surrounded by fog and transported there.
Obviously, I cannot exactly jugde the writing as I’ve read a translation but I’m definitely curious of Tracy Chevalier’s other work
If you have any recommandation for her work, please let me know!
xx
Laurie
Publicités
