What do You think about The Passion Of Artemisia (2003)?
A fictionalized look at the life of Artemisia Gentileschi, an Italian Baroque painter in the 17th century. I'd never heard of her before this, and I found looking up her paintings enhanced my enjoyment of the book. The story begins during the latter part of the trial of her rapist, and continues through her times in Florence, Genoa, Rome, Naples, and London. It's interesting how the rape trial was all but skipped, seeming to imply that we all know that story already, even though it shaped the course of her life for the next several years. I have mixed feelings about this book. I enjoyed it while I was reading it, but taken as a whole I'm a little disappointed. Huge chunks of time are glossed over, few of the characters are given any personality or physical description, and the main plot arc - Artemisia's relationship with her father - feels like it was shoehorned in. Despite all that, I'm still glad I read it. Reading about painted is often inspiring, and I've now been introduced to another talented artist.
—melydia
Ex Bookworm group review:It took me rather a long time to read this book. Despite the fact the life of a female painter in what was pretty much a man's world was a great subject, the book failed to engage me somehow. I felt unmoved by Artemisia's suffering in the same way she suspected her daughter Palmira was, and for the same reason, I suspect. It was too far removed from the world I know to have any real meaning for me.My progress through the book was a series of highs and lows. I liked the descriptions of Florence and some of the great works of art to be found there. I was fascinated by Artemisia's thought processes when she was creating a new painting, and by the details about proportions, light and shade and the mixing of pigments (the colours had wonderful names), how she looked at things and tried to paint truth. I was immensely irritated by the Italian words scattered needlessly (and, on the whole, meaninglessly) throughout the book. In italics, too (my pet hate). I couldn't be bothered to look them up and find out what they meant, sometimes I guessed, sometimes I didn't care. But I didn't see the point of putting 'cassone' when trunk would do just as well (if I guessed right). Perhaps I shouldn't object to Italian words and Italics in a book about Italy, but I did.Artemisia was a bit too much of a victim for my liking, and often, she was a victim of herself. She wanted to be loved but she wasn't very loving. She was supposedly betrayed by her husband, but she was not exactly a bundle of warmth and love herself. She wanted everyone to accept her for what she was, but she didn't do that. She was determined Palmira would be a painter despite her having no interest in painting. I'm sure she felt betrayed by Palmira too, but she betrayed little understanding that her daughter might have different aspirations. In many senses, Artemisia was as wooden as Palmira's Bathsheba. Painting was her only passion and when she wasn't painting, she was not particularly interesting. But even painting didn't seem a source of joy to Artemisia, just an essential part of her being. She was rather lacking in joy overall, though there were some funny moments, they were unintentional, such as her rather carnal use of Michelangelo's paintbrush and her statement to Galileo that she would try to feel the earth move.To my own surprise I was moved by the ending of the book, which brought quite a lump to my throat. Looking back on what I had read I decided Artemisia was a very interesting person despite what I thought of her along the way.
—Hilary G
I liked this better than her first book (The Girl in Hyacinth Blue) because of it was (1) a less familiar artist and (2) because of the elaborate interweaving of Gentileschi's motivations in painting with her life. It's an amazing true story with appropriate embellishments to make it a great read. Vreeland's brief notes make the facts and her telling of the story clearly distinguishable.I did not appreciate before reading this book about the difference between painting well and painting with imagination. Sometimes it's nice to be ignorant just so you can learn a stunning lesson! It helps me understand why some paintings move me more than others. It feels like I have been let in on a secret that artists don't share. I will no longer avoid studying paintings of Judith killing Holofernes. Now I also understand why artists can paint the *same* thing without repeating themselves. Maybe you all knew this already, but I am excited to learn this.It's also a good story about a woman who fought female oppression in an unlikely time. Her legitimate claim to greatness stiffened her determination to support herself by painting in spite of the highs and lows of her career. It's also a story of forgiveness without weakness--another subtlety convincingly built into the story.I don't know if it was during this book or her earlier one that she was doing her research during treatment for bone marrow cancer. It is moving to know Vreeland transcended her physical problems to create such a beautiful book.
—Martha Bratton
