Emily Carr was a pioneering painter, choosing as her subject the lush landscape and pre-European history of British Columbia. She focused her efforts first on recording the incredible art of the First Nations clans, especially as expressed in their totem poles, but soon expanded to capturing the spirit of the place - the serenity, power and life’s blood of the centuries-old forests that surrounded her. The path she chose was not an easy one. She refused to conform to the expectations of the white Vancouver society into which she was born. She fought her sisters for the money she needed to paint as she felt she must. She suffered negative reviews and scorn of her countrymen for her focus on native peoples. She pushed her way into art studios in France to learn the techniques she would need to capture the spirit of her beloved forests. She refused to compromise her vision, and finally achieved the recognition she deserved. Vreeland paints a vivid portrait of Emily. She had a wealth of information from which to draw her novel’s characters. Carr, herself, left volumes of journals and narrative sketches, chronicling her efforts to understand, preserve and celebrate the land and the rich culture of its tribal people. I was captured from the first paragraph. There are passages in the novel that are breathtaking, powerful, urgent, serene and/or heartbreaking. I felt Emily’s frustration, elation, confusion, compassion and joy. I’ve visited Canada many times, going to art museums in Vancouver, Victoria, Toronto and Montreal. Reading the book I can only think that I never saw Carr’s work in all those visits. How could I forget something so evocative and powerful? This novel makes me want to visit “the forest primeval” again, and to see Emily Carr’s paintings.
Just before we left for a week-long cruise, I received word from my local library that two books I had requested were available for me. One was just so-so, and the other by Sue Monk Kidd The Invention of Wings kept me immersed from cover to cover. I searched for others that were available now, without a hold, and this one looked as though it might be interesting. And it was. It, too, kept me reading through its pages from cover to cover until I was done. Two books in two days, and barely a word skipped in either of them.I knew nothing of Emily Carr before I read this book, and now I will spend time googling her as soon as I am home again. I want to study her paintings to see if I can see what she saw! (I later found, in a port-of-call independent bookseller, a book, Seven Journeys: The Sketchbooks of Emily Carr by Doris Shadbolt. I will look at these sketches for a long time and think about this woman.)Interesting to me that both books that captured me were fictionalized accounts of North American women about whom I knew nothing. Interesting that both books were written by women. And interesting to me that both accounts were so tightly packed with characters and supporting characters who were colorful and tragic, yet brave in the face of the obstacles life set against them. Both stories are so encouraging and give glimmers of why one shouldn't give up in the face of a struggle. A life is a life. We must live it whether it seems important or not, whether we think we will accomplish something or not, whether we think we will be successful or not. We should follow our own stars, even when those stars seem dim and discouraging. Amen to these kindred sisters. Amen to these two authors. A life counts.
What do You think about The Forest Lover (2004)?
This is a fascinating fictionalized biography of Emily Carr, a woman of the repressive Victorian era, who overcame the disapproval of her family and society at large to follow her passion of capturing the disappearing culture of the native tribes of British Columbia in art. In particular, she wanted to record the totem poles that were quickly disappearing even at that time, but even more, she worked to paint in a way that would provide the viewer with an emotional reaction to the subject. She struggled with self doubt her whole life, but in the end was vindicated as a treasured Canadian artist. Vreeland researched her subject for years, including reading Carr's correspondence and journals. The book is a well-written tribute to a woman who knew her calling and followed it with courage, determination, and a huge amount of talent.
—Carolyn
This was the book that inspired my interest in Emily Carr, a famous early 20th century artist from British Columbia, who traveled up the coast to paint the Native American villages and totem poles. She also painted dramatic scenes of old growth forest and depressing scenes of cut forest landscapes. Her painting evolved from representational to a more "Fauvist" style as she became acquainted with other artists, and her own sense of emotional connection with her subjects grew. This is a fictional account, but includes many historical facts about her life and travels, the Native Americans she befriended, and the art world she eventually joined. Vreeland really captures well Carr's personality and quirks, as well has her interactions with friends and family. I have read all of the Carr's diaries (she wrote a lot, including several books) and Vreeland's story is a great tribute to a wonderful and underrated artist and a powerful and gutsy lady.
—Kathy
I started this book several years ago, before I knew anything about Emily Carr, and couldn't finish it. Not knowing that many of the characters and situations were based on fact, I found it all too maudlin. Discouraged artist, downtrodden native cultures, stereotypes galore. It was like looking at a reflection, feeling that you're missing something critical, but not sure you really care. Since then, I've "discovered" Emily Carr and rank her among my favorite artists. Her paintings of northwest coast forests and totem poles are unbelievable -- colors that seep into your soul and abstraction that renders objects more real somehow than a literal reproduction ever could. And you know what? Emily could write too. Anyone considering reading The Forest Lover should hold that thought and hunt down a copy of Klee Wyck, one of her collections of short stories. You'll get your fill of oppressive missionaries and wronged First Nations. You'll also get some astonishingly visual writing. It's true, she writes like she paints. So, The Forest Lover. I can't recommend it to anyone who doesn't know Emily Carr's work. It's not an entre book, it's more of a fictional commentary. I'm not sure of the value of this, when the original is available and so, so extraordinary.
—Cathy
