2.5 Stars
According to the book blurb, this novel purports to give voice to Johanna Van Gogh-Bonger, Vincent Van Gogh’s sister-in-law, the key player in the growth of Vincent's posthumous fame: “The tireless efforts of one woman gave the world one of its greatest creative minds.” The problem is that this book gives scant information about these “tireless efforts.” Vincent’s death is announced on page 354 of the book, just 100 pages before the end. So obviously, Johanna’s efforts are not the focus.
Instead, the book details Johanna’s arrival in Paris, and her meeting, courtship, and marriage to art dealer Theo Van Gogh, Vincent’s younger brother. The artist’s struggles with mental health and Theo’s unfailing financial and emotional support of his brother are also detailed.
Pacing is an issue. The first 379 pages cover the time period between the summer of 1888 and the winter of 1891. The remaining 75 pages span from the winter of 1891 to the fall of 1925, with two additional pages devoted to the spring of 1990! The novel drags and then the last section is rushed; Johanna’s life after Theo’s death, including her second marriage, is largely dismissed. In the Author’s Note, Cauchi acknowledges that she is not a biographer or historian so she has been very creative; the impression I have is that she just used the Van Gogh name to attract readers to what is really a historical romance. She has not done anything to reclaim Johanna’s importance in art history.
For such an important figure, Johanna does not come across as admirable. For much of the book, instead of intellectual, she seems just silly and stupid. When a public meeting with Vincent proves to be potentially damaging to her reputation, what does she do but rush out to meet with him again?! And this is the behaviour of a woman whose reputation has already been tarnished by an affair?! She’s naïve, petulant, and impulsive. Then she has an epiphany, realizing she is “truly full of flaws” and no longer wants to be an artist but “to learn about art and the selling of art.” Yet these lessons never seem to occur. Having taken only one art history course and only one art appreciation course, I know more than she does . . . at least that’s what this book suggests.
The novel does touch on how women were viewed in the late 19th century: “Vincent’s behaviour will be excused as eccentricity, but if I’d left in a similar way, my brother would be dragging me back in to the parlour by my skirts.” The problems of female artists, ridiculed and ostracized in the art world, are discussed: male artists could study the naked form but a woman’s sculpture featuring any nudity was considered obscene. Johanna observes that “The women of France are irrelevant and Eiffel’s [phallic] tower is unapologetic about that.”
The book also questions whether there is a connection between madness and creativity: “the stepping into insanity and the producing of ‘true art’ seem to dance alongside each other.” Is pain necessary to create? The existence of a link between creativity and mental health is a topic of interest to me.
The writing style is repetitive. For instance, everyone laughs from their belly? “Vincent laughs from his belly” (94) and “[Rodin] laughs from his belly in response” (100) and Andries, Johanna’s brother, “laughs from his belly” (136) and “Theo laughs from his belly” (141) and “Agostina laughs from her belly” (156)!? How many times must the same French words be repeated again and again? Johanna always mentions sitting on the confidante and whenever she’s outdoors she always refers to the fiacres with their coachmen yelling “Hé, la-bas!”
The book’s marketing is deceiving. Though its title may appeal to art lovers, the novel offers little of substance. People interested in really learning about Johanna Van Gogh-Bonger should read Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman Who Made Vincent Famous by Hans Luijten.
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