"An exceptional book, sensible, illuminating and readable...probably the best straightforward account of Bosch and his works which we shall have for some time."― Times Literary Supplement No one can look at the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch without amazement and bewilderment. Professor Gibson shows that what seems inexplicable to us today―the canvases full of torture, monsters, and leering devils―was perfectly intelligible to the fifteenth-century viewer. The subjects of Bosch's paintings were in fact the overwhelming concerns of late medieval the Last Judgment, original sin, death, temptations of the flesh. The author describes each picture in detail, placing each work within the context of medieval folklore and religion, and explains that many of the acts portrayed in the pictures were visual translations of verbal puns or metaphors.
World Fantasy Award-winning author Zoran Zivkovic once described my short fiction as "the contemporary prose equivalent of the wildly imaginative paintings of Heironymus Bosch." For this, I am flattered, grateful, and, before reading this book, woefully ignorant of the artist to whom I am being compared.
Not that I'm unfamiliar with his paintings. I suppose my first exposure to Bosch's work came indirectly by way of a Black Sabbath album cover (remember albums?), that of The Best of Black Sabbath Vol. 1, back in the early '80s. Now, this must have been a bootleg, because I can't, for the life of me, find it now, even though I bought it at the ostensibly-reputable JC Penney store in Westroads Mall in Omaha, NE. At the time I really didn't care whether or not the band received their deserved royalties, as I was thunderstruck by the cover art, "The Triumph of Death" by Pieter Bruegel. I spent long hours listening to "War Pigs," "NIB," and "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath," while studying this painting. I must have been 12 or 13, and my virgin eyes had never beheld such a thing as this before. Ah, sweet innocent blasphemy in the Spring of youth!
Later, as a result of knowing this Bruegel piece, I was introduced to Bosch, since the two are often compared to each other. In fact, Bosch's "The Garden of Earthly Delights" hangs across the aisle from Bruegel's "The Triumph of Death" at the Prado in Madrid. Truth be told, while I appreciate "The Garden of Earthly Delights," I don't think it is Bosch's best painting. That honor, in my feeble eyes, goes to his "Temptation of St. Anthony," wherein Bosch's surreal, nightmare leanings are carefully honed in a technically-precise, symbolically-rich presentation of, well, the temptation of Saint Anthony.
But this is a book review, no? Yes. Let's get to the book.
No, let's not. Before we go further, I need to point something out. When I was an undergraduate, dutifully earning my BA in Humanities (History Emphasis), I developed a sort of snobbery toward Art History majors. I really felt that most of the Art History majors I knew were not-so-well-versed in anything outside of visual art. I was (and still am) pleased that my education encompassed many, many disciplines. I felt that my knowledge of music, theater, literature, dance, cinema, philosophy, and history all informed my appreciation of the static visual arts. Frankly, my conversations with Art History majors usually ended up with them abruptly ending the conversation with an uncomfortable "oh," at which point I knew I had gone too far afield from strictly visual art, in an attempt to contextualize the art itself. Not to slam all Art History majors, as I'm sure there are some that are well-versed in a variety of . . . stuff, but my experience left me with a snob's-eye-view of the "discipline" of Art History in general.
So when I pick up a book that is clearly in the Art History category, I go in with some hesitation. I'm excited about the subject, of course, but am always fearfully anticipating an involuntary intellectual flinch or two or ten along the way. It's purely a visceral reaction conditioned by my snobbery, no doubt. In this case, it's clearly not about the money - I bought this at a garage sale for a buck. Scratch up one point for my tightwadedness frugality!
Thankfully, the Thames & Hudson World of Art series has done something to alleviate my fears over the years. This volume, with commentary by Walter S. Gibson, does much to bolster my faith in the potential of art history as a discipline. Gibson is quick to note that there is much we do not know about Bosch - in essence we have no record of the man's training, though there are hints within his work that point to a couple of possible schools of art (not formal institutions, mind you, but certain perceived movements in certain artistic circles). For the most part, Gibson is careful to note that while certain conclusions about Bosch and his art might be inferred, there is the danger of thinking we understand far more than we actually do understand. Still, that doesn't stop Gibson, in a couple of places, from "projecting" by stating that Bosch "did not view the world as a stage upon which was enacted the struggle between equally powerful forces of good and evil, for this would have denied the omnipotence of God." Well, this may or may not have been true, but Gibson provides little evidence of this other than the fact that Gibson says that Bosch did not view things in this way. Unless Gibson was some sort of necromancer who raised the artist from the dead and personally interviewed him (how do you cite such an interview, anyway?), there is no way to be so sure of Bosch's views, opinions, etc.
Nevertheless, I'm older now, and at least a little bit more mature than in my undergraduate years. So I'm willing to forgive Gibson for falling back on his training a couple of times. Overall, his analysis was brilliant, well-supported, and cohesive. I learned a lot about Bosch and his world from Gibson's analysis. And, of course, the artwork in the book is beautifully dark and surreal - my favorite kind of art, the kind that makes me giddy like a school-child again. So the adult in me can leave his snobbery behind, making way for the 13-year-old, greasy-haired fanboy at the Mall to smile back across all those years.
This book was great because as an amateur art enjoyer it helped me get a sense of how a painting is analyzed piece by piece. Bonus I learned a lot about like the Netherlands and like medieval Dutch culture and it was so much fun. And there were lots of pictures :)
This art history book has a good combination of details of paintings, full views of paintings, explication painting details, and biography of Bosch set in the context of fifteenth century.
I probably don't like this style of painting enough, which has biased my opinion of the book.
I like his Haywain and Garden of Earthly Delights triptychs and the author spends a chapter on these two pieces, but the rest of the book I mostly skimmed.
i came into this book with not that much knowledge of bosch aside from the garden of early delights and one of his paintings i saw in vienna. i knew enough to say i “liked” him however didn’t really have any sort of wider perception of his artwork however this book has changed that! feeling like an expert.
i think that the art is fascinating and the writing was very clear in putting across the key ideas of bosch’s work and the place that it held within the medieval mindset. i love his painting style a LOT actually which is probably part of what made this book so enjoyable (i will admit the text is rather dense sometimes and it’s hard to follow what is going on) however for a general overview of his work it’s amazing and i’ve discovered plenty more of his works (special mentions to the last judgement and the temptation of st anthony and the prado tabletop) which i think are incredible. the depth at which he paints is ridiculous (and very dutch) and generally i think way in which this book interprets his works is very good. especially fond of the idea that his images are circles as to lean towards reflection, his paintings being a brutal portrait of the sinning of human beings in the middle ages and almost acting as a warning as to what humanity was becoming (the haywain is a metaphor for capitalism).
i do wish it was clearer to follow which images were where, the detail that it shows us is all well and good however i have no clue where the detail is on the main image without studying the main painting for a while and there seems to be a lot of works mentioned where the image was shown pages earlier? rather confusing. or maybe i’m still used to the overly perfect image insertion of gombrich’s the story of art. also sort of wish it told us more about the perception of his art through time, especially after the reformation and how his work was interpreted in places like italy where beauty was revered above all.
side note - this book also showed to me the importance of good restoration and preservation. bosch’s work looks entirely different depending on how well it was preserved to quite an alarming extent. rlly shows the job of the restorer quite brutally when you compare things like the garden of earthly delights to even the haywain.
Good, if somewhat brief, overview of major themes in Bosch's works, superimposed with cultural and religious background in the society at the time. While not as comprehensive as seminal Fraenger's tour de force on the subject, it is definitely more accessible and recommended for anyone mesmerized by Bosch's paintings.
My biggest criticism of this book is the quality of illustrations. It is average at best - both in quality as well as in the approach (major works are presented in color scaled down significantly, while fragments are oftentimes reproduced in black and white and are uniformly of inferior quality). Granted, the size of the book does not allow meticulous reproduction of paintings in all their glory, but it could be still done better.
Good little World of Art on Bosch which surely correctly debunks the various hallucinogens/apocalyptic cults/etc arguments for how odd his work is, arguing instead that he was a pretty orthodox religious thinker for the time - but perhaps because of that gives very little sense of how and why his work was as (visually) odd as it was.
A very in depth look into the artwork of Hieronymus Bosch, an artist who used Dutch landscapes as the background for satires of human folly and Christian religious scenes, often featuring his signature fantastical demons.
I found this book in the garbage. Never had thought Bosch would interest me, but this work on his art was great. Gives one a good glimpse into, pardon me for generalizing, the mentality of the Middle Ages, and makes one think of the many elements that are still actual in our day and age. Question: Why is each demon/devil unique, verbatim sui generis, as opposed to the angels who are vastly uniform in their features? Just to underlie the chaos of evil or something more?
I found this book rather disappointing. I read it after Lynda Harris's 'Secret Heresy of Hieronymus Bosch' and felt by comparison Gibson's interpretation of the work is fairly predictable. It's a solid work but nothing amazing.