The highly acclaimed biography of the Pre-Raphaelite artists' muse
The supermodel did not arrive when Twiggy first donned false eyelashes; the concept began more than 100 years previously, with a young artists' model whose face captivated a generation. Saved from the drudgery of a working-class existence by a young Pre-Raphaelite artist, Lizzie Siddal rose to become one of the most famous faces in Victorian Britain and a pivotal figure of London's artistic world, until tragically ending her young life in a laudanum-soaked suicide in 1862. In the 21st century, even those who do not know her name always recognize her face: she is Millais's doomed Ophelia and Rossetti's beatified Beatrice. With many parallels in the modern-day world of art and fashion, this biography takes Lizzie from the background of Dante Rossetti's life and, finally, brings her to the forefront of her own.
Lucinda Hawksley is a British biographer, author and lecturer. She is the great-great-great-granddaughter of Victorian novelist Charles Dickens and his wife Catherine. Hawksley is an award-winning travel writer. She also writes under the name Lucinda Dickens Hawksley.
My ex boyfriend - my greatest love - used to think I was a pre-Raphaellite and he used to leave pictures of Lizzie on my bed when he found them in old books or art magazines; because he knew I loved her.
Once, we went to the most enchanted forest and camped there. One day when we were walking, we found a patch under a treee with a bed of all these beautiful wild flowers. My ex asked me to lay on it, in my old floral dress, and my long hair everywhere, and i pretended I was dead amongst the flowers, just like Lizzie.
Elizabeth "Lizzie" Siddal is one of the most famous women associated with the Pre-Raphaelite art movement – and one of its most iconic and celebrated models. Beautiful – though not by the standards of the day – her fame was gained not only through her arresting looks, but her tumultuous relationship with Dante Gabriel Rossetti and her suicide.
Author Lucinda Hawksley traces the tragically short life of Siddal in Lizzie Siddal: The Tragedy of a Pre-Raphaelite Supermodel, succeeding not only in this endeavour but also drawing attention to the often-neglected facets of Siddal's life – namely, her work as a artist and poet.
Lizzie Siddal is an excellent and thoroughly enjoyable biography. Although only a slim volume at 240 pages and a fast read, it is thorough, absorbing and remarkably unbiased. Unlike some other authors writing an account of the lives of Siddal and Rossetti, Hawksley displays a willingness not to make one into a saint while demonising the other and thoroughly grounds her narrative in the context of the times.
I am very grateful for this. It allows for the narrative to be both more balanced and nuanced. Context – both personal and historical – is a vital key to understanding how and why people – of the past and the present – act like they do. The lack of emotion in Rossetti's writing of the still-birth of his daughter might be confronting to people today, but Hawksley allows to see the multitude of reasons behind this "non-reaction" (for example: he was relieved that Siddal had survived, having feared and suspected he would lose both wife and child, and he was suppressing his own grief in order to comfort the distraught and often-ailing Siddal).
In Hawksley's hands, the image of Siddal that emerges is a woman living in hard circumstances – sympathetic, intelligent, talented and sometimes charming, but also sometimes manipulative (most notably, using her ill health to control Rossetti) and cruel, difficult and a laudanum addict. This may not be to everyone's tastes, but I found Hawksley's handling of events fit with what limited knowledge I have of the Pre-Raphaelites. Additionally, I very much appreciated the focus that Hawksley paid to Siddal's work as an artist and poet, allowing for her to be seen outside the labels of "tragic heroine" and "Rossetti's mistress/wife".
This is an amazing biography – intensely readable and unimposing (especially important for a reader who is unfamiliar with or, like me, has limited knowledge of the Pre-Raphaelites). Hawksley's narrative is fair and balanced, everything well-explained. I cannot begin to explain how glad I am to have read this.
How could I resist a biography of the woman who made red hair fashionable? Nevertheless, 'Lizzie Siddal' is a desperately sad read of mental illness, opium addiction, bitter betrayal and unfulfilled potential. Romantic as the Pre-Raphaelite movement may seem to us now, this book left me profoundly grateful that I live in the era I do now and that I'm free to pursue both a career and creative endeavors, and I don't have to wait nearly ten years for some nut-case, self-obsessed painter to give my life meaning by finally deciding to marry me. Lucinda Hawksley does a good job at piecing together Elizabeth Siddal's story, although she does sometimes stray into unsubstantiated supposition of what people may or may not have felt - this feels a little presumptuous at times. Still, the over-all impression is of a woman who could have made such a significant contribution to the culture of her time with more opportunities, less opium or a little more happiness. I was left sad at the waste of her potential as an artist and poet and her lack of agency in her own life, and with a profound distaste for Rosseti.
Enjoyed this, but the main takeaways I got are there exists serious academia about why Ruskin does not consummate his marriage with young bride, Effie, laudanum is a hell of a drug, and Dante Gabriel Rossetti is a PSA not to date artistic men.
All flippancy aside, this is a short but mesmerizing biography of Lizzie Siddal, a Pre-Raphaelite model whose face is immortalized in Millais's painting "Opheilia."It is written by Lucinda Hawksley, a great-great-great-granddaughter of Charles Dickens, and Hawksley brings Lizzie and the art world of Victorian England to life.
What I found most interesting was the discussion around Lizzie’s mysterious illness. It is not clear what exactly caused her illness, and how much of it was feigned in order to manipulate Dante back to her side.
Hawksley is of the opinion that her illness was a result of her laudanum addiction. Others, according to Lizzie Siddal's Wikipedia page, suggest she had a gastrointestinal disorder. Whatever it is - what a far out look into laudanum, and how it was seen as a perfectly normal and safe drug to use for any and every occasion - for men, women and children! That was so fascinating. But so was Lizzie's travels to find a cure for her health. I wish that this was explored more, beyond a ranking of the most popular health towns in England.
From a quick online search, it seems some women chose to be invalids, which suggests it is a leisure activity for a certain class, especially given the numerous destination towns known for their restorative climates. Invalidism is also associated with ideas of fragile and weak femininity that conforms to gender roles but could also be transgressive.
The million-dollar question this book poses is, why doesn't Dante marry Lizzie already?! Make an honest woman of her, Dante's friends and even patrons tell him.
It's not very clear, given the affection he has of her, and the obsession he carries after her death. Like the Ruskin bride question, the obvious answer is staring at us in the face. While I quite liked Hawksley's Beatrice corollary, the practical explanation is that Dante didn't marry her because he was a selfish man.
Charming and fun, but loyal? To a certain extent, sure, but the record shows he borrowed money from his friends without paying them back and didn't think twice about going after Jane Morris. He was aware of what he was doing to Lizzie by not marrying her, but he chose to put his needs above hers. For all that, he also nurtured her artistic talent and championed it to art patrons. As an art mentor, Dante fared a bit better than Colette and Willy, but still an artist husband.
Overall, a good read, although there is a minor sense of disjointedness: there were initial chapters that give an overview into Lizzie and Dante's relationship and Lizzie's illness that are then expanded in full. Sometimes, the same anecdote is repeated, with different details. For example, the story of when Dante buys Lizzie a cloak and decides to get the marriage license is told in two separate chapters.
The cover of my edition features Siddal posing as Ophelia, which is a pretty much an indicator of how Siddal's life story is going to go. This is okay because I already knew that.
Hawksley biography is really engaging. I found myself jotting things down in the book as I went along. She doesn't make Siddal the opposite of a demon, a saint, and she does seem to be over all fair. Her discussions and analysis are well thought out.
What made this a three star, and a strong three star, was two things. The first is the progression. At times, Hawksley jumps around. For instance, when discussing whether or not Siddal and Rossetti had sex before marriage, she brings up Siddal's addiction which she had yet to mention. To be fair, I am not quite sure how this problem could be fully resolved, but at times it is a little distracting. The second is the lack of citation. There is a chapter source section at the end of the book, but nothing is cited in text.
While working as a hat-maker and assistant in a London hat shop, Lizzie is discovered by the Irish poet William Allingham. He recommends her to his artist friend, Walter Howell Deverell of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. With her flowing red hair, delicate features, and waif-like figure, Lizzie captivates the Pre-Raphaelite artists, serving as their muse and posing for many of their paintings. She becomes romantically involved with the most illustrious of the Pre-Raphaelites, Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The attraction was instantaneous and mutual. Their tempestuous relationship was to last a little over a decade until her untimely death.
Jealous, possessive, and childish, Rossetti threw temper tantrums if Lizzie formed friendships with anyone other than himself. But he allowed himself the liberty of engaging in sexual relations with other models, understandably causing Lizzie considerable distress. All the while, he dangled Lizzie for over nine years with the promise of marriage, finally marrying her in the tenth year of their relationship.
For her part, Lizzie used emotional blackmail and her illnesses (real or imaginary) to manipulate Rossetti into running back into her arms whenever she felt threatened by his absence. Possibly anorexic and complaining of constant pain, she began taking laudanum to dull the physical and psychological pain, becoming increasingly dependent on the drug. She intentionally overdosed at the age of thirty-three.
It is to Hawksley’s credit that she portrays Lizzie Siddal as having more than just a stunning face. She was a talented artist and poet in her own right. Although she had no formal training, her sketches and paintings elicited praise and eventually garnered the patronage of John Ruskin, a leading art critic. Hawksley includes several of Lizzie’s poems and pictures of her art. Lizzie emerges as a talented, tortured soul whose entanglements with the Pre-Raphaelites presented her with advantages she would otherwise never have had. But her turbulent relationship with Rossetti came at a heavy price.
Hawksley situates Lizzie in the context of her time and place, making it as much a biography of the times as it is of Lizzie Siddal. We are given glimpses of the Pre-Raphaelites’ life-style, families, friendships, and relationships with models. On the surface, the group appears fun-loving and supportive of each other’s artistic endeavors. But lurking beneath are infidelities, betrayals, and estranged relationships, all of which are underpinned with a heavy dose of class distinctions.
Hawksley’s portrayal is balanced in that neither Lizzie nor Rossetti emerge unscathed. Lizzie is a product of a time when women were totally reliant on men for support. As such, she resorts to subterfuge, deception, manipulation, and emotional blackmail to achieve her goals. Rossetti is egotistical, selfish, and exploitative, monopolizing and controlling Lizzie with promises of marriage and respectability.
The biography is engaging, accessible, and provides a balanced perspective on the life and times of an intriguing woman who died tragically before realizing her potential. The bibliography is impressive. But the book suffers from a lack of adequate citations, leaving one wondering how much is speculation and how much is based on fact.
I love and I am fascinated by the sheer beauty and detail of Pre-Raphaelite art. I abhor self-centered, egotistical men, manipulative, conniving women, and the hypocritical Victorian era. This book combined a tale of some of the things I love and some of those I detest.
From the poorer socioeconomic scale, the former hat shop girl Lizzie Siddal was hauntingly beautiful. Hers was the face used by many of the Pre-Raphaelite artists. Waif like and mesmerizing, Lizzie captured the hearts of many, but loved only one.
From the higher echelons, Dante Gabriel Rosseti, was talented, handsome and egotistical.
Both were highly creative and self destructive. Enmeshed in a very unhealthy relationship, theirs was a downward spiral of laudanum and alcohol. Victorian norms frowned upon marriage beneath ones social standard. Thus, Rossetti willingly lived with Lizzie, keeping her as a mistress, but hid her from his family.
When philandering Rossetti strayed into the arms of two of his models, namely Jane Burden Morris and Fanny Cornforth, Lizzie cunningly manipulated Rossetti with her self-imposed illness.
While at times the writing seemed to drag, this is a well researched and interesting snap shot of the Victorian era and the incredible art that was produced during the time.
If you liked Thing of Beauty, you'll like this one too. There are a lot of parallels between the two stories. The author does a good job of capturing the temper of the times Lizzie Siddall lived in and the group personality of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, who made her a star. While this was basically a blow-by-blow, undramatic recitation of the facts of Lizzie's life, her story was quite moving. I recommend this one.
I read this biography in preparation for the Rossetti exhibition at Tate Britain in London.
Elizabeth Siddall was the model and lover of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the painter, poet and novelist who was the instigator of the Pre-Rafaelite brotherhood. Lizzie is known for her ethereal, delicate beauty, with her red hair as her greatest feature. She was the famous face of Millais’ Ophelia and Rossetti’s Beatrice.
Hawksley traces her origins in a lower middle class family, her coincidental discovery as a model and her tumultuous relationship with Rossetti. The picture that emerges is quite sad: she was the pupil and property of Rossetti, forever waiting for a marriage proposal, addicted (and finally succumbing) to laudanum. Rossetti, who had many mistresses, had the audacity to burn her suicide note, and had her body exhumed after burying a collection of new poems in her coffin. In her turn, Lizzie was often manipulative and abusive.
Hawksley has a keen eye for all too sensational details (when did they have sex, the labeling of Lizzie as a ‘supermodel ‘), hence only three stars.
Aside from being my favourite art movement, I have always been fascinated by those who began the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, and the muses who so inspired them. Lizzie Siddal is perhaps the most iconic of these, serving as the model for such well-known figures as Ophelia and Beatrice, with her pale skin and cascading auburn hair.
Even as a history nerd, I must admit that I've not picked up one of Lucinda Hawksley's books before. This seems odd, considering that whilst looking through her oeuvre, I wrote down almost every single title on my sprawling TBR list. Hawksley's books and areas of research really appeal to me, and after my extremely positive experience reading Lizzie Siddal: The Tragedy of a Pre-Raphaelite Supermodel, I am keen to pick up more of her work soon.
Lizzie Siddal, born Elizabeth Siddall in Southwark, London, worked first for a milliner, modelling different styles of hats for wealthy clients. She was 'discovered' by the Irish poet William Allingham, who found that she almost perfectly fitted the criteria for a model his friend, Walter Howell Deverell, was seeking for a painting. Deverell was 'despairing of finding a woman without prominent curves; he had also hoped to find a red-haired model' for his depiction of Shakespeare's Viola.
At first, Siddal was flattered but sceptical of Deverell's approach, and it took his kindly mother to finally convince her to accept. Her scepticism was wound up with the fact that during the 1840s, 'modelling for an artist was perceived as being synonymous with prostitution'. Her introduction to modelling for the group of artists, however, was a pleasurable one, and throughout, she demonstrated her fervent respectability. She had a desperation to be accepted.
Siddal went on to become one of the most famous faces in Victorian Britain, sitting for the likes of John Everett Millais and Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the latter of whom she eventually married after a tumultuous relationship. As Hawksley puts it, this brought with it 'nine years of emotional agony'. She writes of their nervous inclination, and the clash of their personalities: '... both were headstrong and wilful; they were also depressive; prone to wild mood swings... [They] had a tendency to addiction and shared a destructively jealous need to be the most important figure in their - or, indeed, any - relationship.'
At the point of her marriage to Rossetti, Siddal had an addiction to laudanum, and was suffering from a debilitating, and quite mysterious, illness. Her illness was misdiagnosed by specialists as consumption and curvature of the spine in her lifetime. As Hawksley notes, it 'has long baffled medics and scholars'. It is thought that she may have suffered from an eating disorder, or that 'she was simply "neurotic" - a vague description that can encompass myriad symptoms and mental illnesses.' The majority of the symptoms which she manifested, including nausea, dizziness, and a constant cough, can indicate a laudanum addiction. After giving birth to a stillborn daughter, and suffering much heartache, Siddal eventually committed suicide at the age of 32.
Of course, the primary focus here is on Siddal. However, Hawksley gives a lot of valuable context about the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, and its aims. They wished, she writes, 'to paint vibrantly coloured works that would mean something to the viewer, subjects that would provoke the imagination and cause discussion.' The Pre-Raphaelites wanted to return to the artistic ideals which existed before Italian painter and artist of the High Renaissance period, Raphael (1483-1520), the point at which they believed art had "gone wrong".
Throughout, Hawksley gives a real flavour for the Southwark which Siddal grew up in - highly crowded, with no access to clean running water. Her family, though, was an aspirational one, and she did not grow up in poverty exactly. Siddal exaggerated about her unbringing, leading everyone around her to believe that she grew up in an impoverished slum. This, Hawskley suggests, was a ploy to 'make Rossetti feel the need to protect her. She preferred to be known as a romantically tragic figure rather than reveal the truth about her family's shabby working-class respectability.' Hawksley moves through Siddal's life with care and sensitivity, and does not simply focus upon her as a muse; she also writes of Siddal's own artistry, as she was a painter in her own right. Indeed, John Ruskin purchased her entire portfolio of work in 1855, after he became her mentor.
Lizzie Siddal is a thorough and highly readable account of what became an incredibly sad life, marred by tragedy. The research and primary sources have been meticulously examined, and extra information - which tends to give more context, or further explain a brief point Hawksley makes - is often provided in footnotes. Hawksley's book is relatively slim for a biography, standing at just over 200 pages, but such good use has been made of the original sources, and the whole feels intricately woven. Lizzie Siddal moves along so well, and is an excellent example of historical biography, which I would highly recommend.
Außergewöhnlich ist es gewesen, das Leben der Lizzie Siddal. Als Angestellte in einem Londoner Hutmachergeschäft wird sie vom Maler Deverell entdeckt, einem Vertreter der umstrittenen Präraffaeliten, und schon bald wollen alle die junge Frau malen, die mit ihrem roten Haar und der so wenig weiblichen Figur gar nicht dem gängigen Schönheitsideal ihrer Zeit entspricht. Vor allem ist es das feingeschnittene Gesicht mit den großen Augen, die in Kombination mit ihrer extremen Schlankheit die feinsinnigen Herren begeistert, wohl auch, weil sie darin Schönheit und Tod vereint sehen (eine Verbindung, der auch Poe seinerzeit überhaupt nicht entgehen konnte). Und folgerichtig wird Lizzie von Millais, in dessen Wanne sie sich tatsächlich fast den Tod holt, als die Wassertemperatur sinkt und sie Stunde um Stunde darin posiert, als Model für Ophelia erwählt. Aber dann ist genau dieses Bild der endgültige Durchbruch und ein Traum wird wahr: das Mädchen aus einfachen Verhältnissen avanciert zum Supermodel. Diesem Traum hängen auch heute noch junge Mädchen an, die sich von Klum & Co. ausbeuten lassen; und wenn es nur das wäre, man müsste keine Biografie über Lizzie Siddal lesen. Lizzie aber ist nicht nur das Model, dass die gewünschten Posen der Herren Maler einnimmt, sie verfügt auch selbst über Kreativität und malt und dichtet beachtlich. Zu ihrem Unglück verliebt sich der hedonistische und immer untreue Dante Rossetti in Lizzie, und die letzten 10 Jahre ihres Lebens wird sie damit verbringen, Mittel und Wege zu finden, um Rossetti an sich zu binden. Die nicht durch Ehe legitimierte Beziehung zu Rossetti zwingt dem begehrten Supermodel der PRB die Rolle einer Geliebten auf, die von Fremden nicht in der gemeinsamen Wohnung gesehen werden darf und von Rossettis Familie nicht akzeptiert wird. Liebe wird es gewesen sein, aber eine giftige Beziehung, an der Lizzie schließlich zugrunde geht, auch wenn Rossetti sie kurz vor ihrem Tod dann doch noch heiratet. Opiumkonsum in Form des im 19. Jahrhunderts beliebten Laudanums, Verzweiflungsschübe, die pathologische Formen annehmen, (berechtigte) Eifersucht und eine Fehlgeburt: am Ende nimmt sich das erste "Supermodel" nach einem schier endlos anmutenden Leidensweg selbst das Leben, am 11. Februar 1862 (auf den Tag genau 101 Jahre später wird auch Sylvia Plath diesen Weg beschreiten, an die ich während des Lesens der Biografie einige Male gedacht habe).
Leider habe ich den Eindruck, dass Lucinda Hawksley nicht die Biografin ist, die Lizzie Siddal verdient hat. Da ich mich mit Lizzie Siddal zuvor noch nicht beschäftigt hatte, kann ich nicht beurteilen, wie gut oder schlecht die Quellenlage ist, und vielleicht musste Hawksley die Biografie auf nur wenige verläßliche Informationen gründen. In ihrer Biografie geht es leider sehr viel häufiger und ausführlicher um Rossetti und sein Umfeld als um Lizzie. Das ist für Leser, die sich für das Viktorianische Zeitalter und die Präraffaeliten interessieren, eine gute Sache, aber dann wäre der Titel der Biografie unglücklich gewählt und sollte richtiger lauten: Lizzie Siddal und die Präraffaeliten. Fast meint man eine Erleichterung zu spüren, wenn Hawksley sich auf verläßliche Quellen beziehen und die Architektur eines Hauses beschreiben kann oder die Entwicklung von Badeorten. Zu Lizzie Siddal fällt ihr dagegen oft nicht viel ein, immer und immer wieder wird sie reduziert auf die Opiumsüchtige, die nicht geheiratet wird. Hawksleys Spekulationen, ob Lizzie und Rossetti in den ersten Jahren ihrer Beziehung Sex hatten, finde ich unseriös, aber das Thema Sex scheint Hawksley zu faszinieren, so auch die Frage, ob Ruskin die Ehe mit Effie vollzogen hat. Auch, dass Effie nach der Scheidung Millais heiratet, wird protokolliert. Wenig aber findet sich zur seelischen Situation von Lizzie. An die hundert Male schreibt Hawksley, dass Lizzie dann plötzlich doch "too ill" gewesen sei, um dieses oder jenes zu tun; dass sie wieder einmal mehr entgegen aller Hoffnungen von Rossetti nicht geheiratet wird. Gerade diese Frau, die sich auch im wortwörtlichen Sinne den Korsetts ihrer Zeit entzogen hat, wird in der Biografie immer wieder in (Opfer)Rollen hineingezwängt, nachdem die Zeitumstände dieses bereits ein erstes Mal erledigt hatten. Ich hätte mir mehr Lizzie und weniger Rossetti gewünscht, vor allem etwas mehr Tiefgang bei der Schilderung von Lizzies Persönlichkeit.
Wow. I put off doing the review of this book because it's such an emotional topic for me that I did not want to go off half cocked. I started out as a fan of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and found Lizzie through that path. Like so many, I had no idea I had seen her face a million times in so many paintings. Lizzie Siddal is pretty much my physical ideal. The red hair, the pale skin, the faery look of her...it's what I would choose as my physical form if I could. Until I started to read about her, I had no idea of the depth of the human behind all that ethereal beauty. I was fortunate to see some of her art work in a visit to the Delaware Museum of Art many moons ago and I was enchanted. The same delicacy of her beauty is found in her work. She is also a wonderful poet. As you would figure, she was much more than a model and muse for the PRB...she was a gifted artist and poet and a charmer of the first magnitude when she wanted to be. This book does a really nice job of encapsulating and illuminating an incredibly complicated subject. The author effectively explains the mundane facts as well as the inherent romance in Lizzie's brief life. She manages to be honest without bashing (both Lizzie and Gabriel) which is not easy to find in devotees of Lizzie. I think of all the things I have read about Lizzie, this one really gets to the heart of the reality of someone so very complicated and also so tragic without becoming sucked into the mire of the Cult Of Lizzie. This "cult" generally involves trashing Gabriel Rossetti and holding Lizzie up as perfect. Now, don't get me wrong--I wanted to whip up on Gabriel many times while reading this--I have wanted to whip up on him before, when reading about their relationship. However...it does Lizzie an injustice to paint her as a total victim and rube. She was well able to stick up for herself in many ways. I feel that the time period she lived in and the idiotic mores of the day concerning women are much more to blame than their relationship. I have been in complicated relationships before and I know that they are nearly always a two way street-not to excuse bad behavior but the course of true love never did run smooth...and that is the truth. It does not make the love invalid. I learned a great deal of information that I never knew, despite having read a great deal about Lizzie herself and the PRB in general. Still, this book hipped me to many facts I was not aware of. I had no idea of the depth of Ruskin's support of Lizzie's work. I despise Ruskin and have a tendency to avoid reading about him due to my deep dislike of him as a human. I can acknowledge his importance to art, but I cannot forgive his revolting personality. I will say that his fierce devotion to Lizzie and her work gave him a little check mark in the category of "okay, he had some decent qualities" in my mind. I would say that one of the few issues I have with the book is that I wish it had more reproductions of Lizzie's work and the work of her husband. This is generally a complaint for me with books that involve art so deeply. I can acknowledge that there may have been money issues with that in terms of licensing etc, but it still would have made the book better for me. Having said that, I would still highly recommend this as a balanced and yet loving portrait of an important and fascinating woman.
Wonderful, thoughtful biography of a weird and troubled woman.
The history of art often divides itself up with artists (mostly male) on one side and models/muses (mostly female) on the other. But Lizzie Siddal was a talented artist as well as the model of many iconic works of art of the Pre-Raphaelite movement... and, tragically, a laudanum addict.
This book explores the wild, strange life of Lizzie alongside her longtime love and eventual husband Dante Gabriel Rossetti, as well as her patron John Ruskin. It's a must read for those who enjoyed the TV series Desperate Romantics... separating out the myths and legends from the real stories of these bohemian friends, critics and creators. I appreciated how much the stories of the men around Lizzie are there to put her life into context, rather than the other way around. We also learn more about the lesser-known women of this era, who like Lizzie were models, wives and lovers of more famous male artists, and are largely remembered because of those associations.
Why is there not a similar book about Christina Rossetti, Lizzie's estranged-never-quite-friends-in-the-first-place sister-in-law?
La autora realiza un excelente trabajo al acercarnos a la vida de la musa prerrafaelita por excelencia. Esta breve biografía nos da a conocer en profundidad la trágica historia de Elizabeth Siddal: sus ambiciones artísticas, su compleja relación con Rossetti y su entorno, su producción poética nos son presentados con detalle y seriedad.
Me han sorprendido y conmovido los dibujos y escritos de Siddal, o su amistad con Ruskin y Swinburne, que siempre la defendieron. Esto me ha llevado a reflexionar sobre el destino de la mujer en la época victoriana, y sobre cómo a veces herimos a quienes más creemos amar.
Adaptaciones como “Desperate Romantics” están muy bien como entretenimiento, pero libros como este (que compré en la Tate Britain) se agradecen y son igualmente amenos.
I loved the premise for this but the writing was so dry and never really felt like it showed us who Siddal was other than a languishing figure. The summary of the almost ten year on-again off-again relationship with Rossetti itself becomes an agonizing slog so I totally feel for Lizzie. Yes the marriage was only a small fraction of their time together but there’s very few chapters about it. Honestly the whole thing feels like the first few chapters of a biography before anything happens or you meet anyone important yet, and the whole book is that way about it’s own subjects. I think there was a more compelling way to present a biography about a really interesting figure in art history.
Effie Gray’s small mention also steals the show of like “oh? Something interesting? Finally!”
The facts are well researched, but the style is very dry and made reading this feel like a chore. Not bad, just a bit dull. A much more enjoyable, informative and thorough book on Elizabeth Siddal and the Pre-Raphaelite group of artists is Gay Daly’s The Pre-Raphaelites in Love. Don’t be put off by the title.
Oh Lizzie you poor thing. The ultimate in tragic artist’s muse. Beautiful, complicated and a drug addict you couldn’t make up a more tragic figure. This book is very well researched and the author clearly wants to do her subject justice. It’s a balanced account of a complicated woman and her turbulent relationship. Very readable and fascinating.
As an art history major, I didn't spend much time with the Pre-Raphaelites. As a huge fan of Whistler, I spent more time with Pre-Raphaelite supporter and art critic, John Ruskin. But I've been interested to learn more about them, and where better to start than with one of their most iconic muses?
Lizzie Siddal was discovered in a fashionable milliner's shop in London, and soon became a model for a number of the Pre-Raphaelites. She and Dante Gabriel Rossetti quickly became an item. Their relationship was riddled with jealousies and betrayals (Rossetti asked Lizzie to stop modeling for anyone but him while he continued to sleep with other women, and promised to marry her for eight years before actually going through with it). While I knew about the romance, I was unaware of many of the details of Siddal's life. That Siddal was an artist in her own right has been glossed over in every textbook I read, along with her addiction to laudanum and depression, which greatly reduced her output. Even though Lizzie's poor health and stress from her tumultuous relationship with Dante kept her from producing more art, the plates included in Hawksley's biography demonstrate definite artistic ability.
It's not surprising that Siddal has been overlooked by the textbooks, both because she was a woman, and because she was not as prolific as her male compatriots. Still, her life is important in more than that she was a "muse". She was a woman with her own agency and an independent life in the 19th Century. She diverged from the acceptable model of a woman at the time, and pursued her own goals, even if she still wanted to be married and have a happy family of her own.
Hawksley's biography makes good use of primary documents to draw a picture of not only Lizzie, but the other Pre-Raphaelites in her social circle. There are still a few places where the author has to draw conclusions based on typical behavior of the time period, or secondhand accounts from members of the Pre-Raphaelite community. Throughout this book, Hawksley tries to impress upon the reader both the talent and the tragedy of Lizzie Siddal.
Wonderfully written. Obviously well researched. Read much like a novel. Had just been to exhibit of Pre-Raphalite paintings and this really added to my enjoyment.
3.5 Stars Lizzie Siddal is probably the most well-known ‘face’ of the pre-Raphaelite paintings, with her long red hair, alabaster white skin and somewhat distant, haughty expression. When this ‘Stunner’ was first discovered by Walter Deverell, one of the lesser-known of the Pre-Raphaelite Brothers, she was a respectable milliner’s assistant. The man who became her lover/husband/tutor, Dante Rosetti, quickly claimed her for his own however, and it is through his paintings that we know her (though perhaps her MOST famous depiction is of Ophelia by Millais).
Lizzie Siddal’s relationship with Rosetti is hard to read. Hawksley tries her best to present both sides, of a woman who was overly-clingy, insecure and addicted to opium, and a philandering, tempestuous star-in-the-making who always wanted what he couldn’t have. The couple clearly loved each other in the early days, and there were times when their love was resurrected in their rather tragic romance, but for most of the decade or so they were together, they seemed to be a thorn in each other’s side. A thorn neither could do without, but one which was often an agony to bear.
There is scant evidence of much of Lizzie’s life. We rarely hear her voice and Hawksley has had to build up her story from what others – often very biased others – say of her. There’s her few surviving paintings too, and her extremely morbid poetry, but did her art truly reflect her life? Ultimately, I was disappointed to discover that so many questions about her simply couldn’t be answered. She’s not easy to like, but then Rosetti is very hard to like (IMHO anyway). Why did she put up with him! I asked myself that question so many times, reading this, and I didn’t really ever get an answer. It’s not the author’s fault, but unless some new source comes to light, it will remain very easy to interpret the face of tragic suffering in the paintings of Lizzie as a window into her reality.
Una donna consumata dall'amore per Rossetti e per l'arte. Minata dalla dipendenza da laudano, la sua salute pericolosamente oscillante fra depressione e gioia a seconda delle attenzioni ricevute dal suo amante e carnefice, per dirla alla Bronte. Una vita spesa nel mito romantico dell'amore e dell'attesa che si spegne lentamente nell'anoressico bisogno di essere amata. Lizzie Siddal, il volto dei Preraffaeliti, rende immortale il suo tormento lasciandoci struggenti poesie e poche preziose opere d'arte e pone fine alla sua esile vita a soli trentadue anni.
Un'accurata biografia che esplora ampiamente il rapporto, sicuramente insano e morboso, fra l'artista e la sua musa. Un amore degno delle migliori star maledette del rock, non a caso lei viene paragonata ad una Groopie dall'autrice.
Sentii il vento gelido e freddo soffiare E i vapori alzarsi dalla terra rossastra; Sentii la stessa malia togliermi il respiro E piegarmi veso una vivida morte.
Through this marvellous novel I have learned a lot about the Pre-Raphaelite movement and artists. Actually I am very much drawn the cover of the book as Millais’s masterpiece Ophelia is one of my favorite paintings in Tate Britain. It was a good surprise to see that the model Elizabeth Siddall was an artist herself and she even was the only female artist to exhibit at the summer exhibition at Russell Place in 1857. The book is very well written and decorated with the paintings of the artists. It is so sad to see that such talented young woman was a victim of an addiction and couldn’t have her own career although she was given the chance by John Ruskin. Such a bad destiny… That is my first book from Lucinda Hawskley. She is a good story teller just like her great-great-great grandfather Charles Dickens.
A subject I am very interested in and which I thought I knew something about, but this readable and lively book took issue with accepted ideas about the muse and partner of Rosetti.
At times it felt as if the author assumed the reader had a lot of knowledge to begin with, which made me feel like I'd missed a lecture, however it was accessible and her opinions were stated quite strongly without a excess of historical evidence.
Overall, I find this group of creative people as fascinating as ever. The book made me feel sad for the loss of Lizzie and the way her life turned out.
Started off very interesting, and then became pretty repetitive. They were the OG toxic couple. They could probably do a Real Housewives of the Pre Raphaelites on Bravo and it would be a huge hit.
out of all the horrors Rossetti put her through, insisting on the pet name Gubbens is unforgivable. The fact that i am sat here reading 180 year old heartwrenching love letters addressed to "my dearest Gub" are you serious !!! be serious. Rossetti you freaky man, i hope you were in fact haunted by lizzie until your dying day.
Really enjoyed this. Big fan of William Morris, Millais and Rossetti and it was fascinating to read about how all their lives were so intertwined. Lizzie had a truly tragic life and death. It reveals the secrets and inspiration behind many famous works of art. Highly recommended!
The subtitle use of the word 'supermodel' nearly put me off reading this at all, thinking it might be a high gloss, retouched, overview of the life of Elizabeth Eleanor Siddall, later known as Lizzie Siddal. However Hawksley concisely covers both the parts of Lizzie Siddal that were admirable and remarkable. But also doesn't shy away from the aspects of this woman who has also been characterized as haughty, sullen, and manipulative.
Lizzie Siddal has come to be the most well-known of the Pre-Raphaelite models, but perhaps in spite of her depiction in several canvases and in particular in one of the most renown works, 'Ophelia' painted by John Everett Millais. Because the visage of Elizabeth Siddal is but the tip of the iceberg in her legend. That she was married to Dante Gabriel Rossetti at the time of her death, that they had a decade long on and off relationship prior to being married. That she was so often reported near death during those years. That she had the ambition to become a painter and poet in her own right and be an equal in both to her husband.
Hawksley covers the known details and uses some of Siddal's lines of poetry to give more context to those details. But even with this supplemental context for Siddal's life, so much about her attitudes, her illnesses, and other aspects of her art and life come down to supposition. After her death and more particularly after Rossetti's death, the characterization of their turbulent relationship fell to Rosetti's younger and very protective brother William. No known biographical writing by anyone in the Siddal family was every found, so the reports of Siddal's jealousy, her manipulation of Rossetti when she needed his attention, her hypochondriac tendencies and how rapidly she would recover once she had Rossetti at her side. And the final year and moments of her life provided enough fodder for looky-loos down the years to keep her 'legend' alive.