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Suave caricia: Las muchas vidas de Amory Clay
When Amory Clay was born, in the decade before the Great War, her disappointed father gave her an androgynous name and announced the birth of a son. But this daughter was not one to let others define her; Amory became a woman who accepted no limits to what that could mean, and from the time she picked up her first camera, one who would record her own version of events.
Moving freely between London and New York, between photojournalism and fashion photography, and between the men who love her on complicated terms, Amory establishes her reputation as a risk taker and a passionate life traveler. Her hunger for experience draws her to the decadence of Weimar-era Berlin and the violence of London's Blackshirt riots, to the Rhineland with Allied troops and into the political tangle of war-torn Vietnam. During her ambitious career, the seminal moments of the twentieth century will become the unforgettable moments of her own biography as well.
In Sweet Caress, Amory Clay comes wondrously to life, her vibrant personality enveloping the reader from the start. And, running through the novel, her photographs over the decades allow us to experience this vast story not only with Amory's voice but with her vision. William Boyd's Sweet Caress captures an entire lifetime unforgettably within its pages. It captivates.
Moving freely between London and New York, between photojournalism and fashion photography, and between the men who love her on complicated terms, Amory establishes her reputation as a risk taker and a passionate life traveler. Her hunger for experience draws her to the decadence of Weimar-era Berlin and the violence of London's Blackshirt riots, to the Rhineland with Allied troops and into the political tangle of war-torn Vietnam. During her ambitious career, the seminal moments of the twentieth century will become the unforgettable moments of her own biography as well.
In Sweet Caress, Amory Clay comes wondrously to life, her vibrant personality enveloping the reader from the start. And, running through the novel, her photographs over the decades allow us to experience this vast story not only with Amory's voice but with her vision. William Boyd's Sweet Caress captures an entire lifetime unforgettably within its pages. It captivates.
541 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 27, 2015
574 people are currently reading
6749 people want to read
About the author
William Boyd
69 books2,482 followersNote: William^^Boyd
Of Scottish descent, Boyd was born in Accra, Ghana on 7th March, 1952 and spent much of his early life there and in Nigeria where his mother was a teacher and his father, a doctor. Boyd was in Nigeria during the Biafran War, the brutal secessionist conflict which ran from 1967 to 1970 and it had a profound effect on him.
At the age of nine years he attended Gordonstoun school, in Moray, Scotland and then Nice University (Diploma of French Studies) and Glasgow University (MA Hons in English and Philosophy), where he edited the Glasgow University Guardian. He then moved to Jesus College, Oxford in 1975 and completed a PhD thesis on Shelley. For a brief period he worked at the New Statesman magazine as a TV critic, then he returned to Oxford as an English lecturer teaching the contemporary novel at St Hilda's College (1980-83). It was while he was here that his first novel, A Good Man in Africa (1981), was published.
Boyd spent eight years in academia, during which time his first film, Good and Bad at Games, was made. When he was offered a college lecturership, which would mean spending more time teaching, he was forced to choose between teaching and writing.
Boyd was selected in 1983 as one of the 20 'Best of Young British Novelists' in a promotion run by Granta magazine and the Book Marketing Council. He also became a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in the same year, and is also an Officier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. He has been presented with honorary doctorates in literature from the universities of St. Andrews, Stirling and Glasgow. He was appointed Commander of the Order of the British Empire in 2005.
Boyd has been with his wife Susan since they met as students at Glasgow University and all his books are dedicated to her. His wife is editor-at-large of Harper's Bazaar magazine, and they currently spend about thirty to forty days a year in the US. He and his wife have a house in Chelsea, West London but spend most of the year at their chateau in Bergerac in south west France, where Boyd produces award-winning wines.
Of Scottish descent, Boyd was born in Accra, Ghana on 7th March, 1952 and spent much of his early life there and in Nigeria where his mother was a teacher and his father, a doctor. Boyd was in Nigeria during the Biafran War, the brutal secessionist conflict which ran from 1967 to 1970 and it had a profound effect on him.
At the age of nine years he attended Gordonstoun school, in Moray, Scotland and then Nice University (Diploma of French Studies) and Glasgow University (MA Hons in English and Philosophy), where he edited the Glasgow University Guardian. He then moved to Jesus College, Oxford in 1975 and completed a PhD thesis on Shelley. For a brief period he worked at the New Statesman magazine as a TV critic, then he returned to Oxford as an English lecturer teaching the contemporary novel at St Hilda's College (1980-83). It was while he was here that his first novel, A Good Man in Africa (1981), was published.
Boyd spent eight years in academia, during which time his first film, Good and Bad at Games, was made. When he was offered a college lecturership, which would mean spending more time teaching, he was forced to choose between teaching and writing.
Boyd was selected in 1983 as one of the 20 'Best of Young British Novelists' in a promotion run by Granta magazine and the Book Marketing Council. He also became a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in the same year, and is also an Officier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. He has been presented with honorary doctorates in literature from the universities of St. Andrews, Stirling and Glasgow. He was appointed Commander of the Order of the British Empire in 2005.
Boyd has been with his wife Susan since they met as students at Glasgow University and all his books are dedicated to her. His wife is editor-at-large of Harper's Bazaar magazine, and they currently spend about thirty to forty days a year in the US. He and his wife have a house in Chelsea, West London but spend most of the year at their chateau in Bergerac in south west France, where Boyd produces award-winning wines.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,002 reviews
December 3, 2022
He’s written a few of these, has Boyd. That’s to say fictional biographies of people who have lived through the great events of the 20th century. The other’s I’ve read, The New Confessions and Any Human Heart covered the lives of men. Both were highly entertaining and, in the end, sucked me into the mindset that was I reading of the life of a real person. This time around, the book documents the life of a woman, Amory Clay, who was to become a photographer and photojournalist. Her story flows between the Hebridean Islands, London, Berlin, New York and Vietnam. This time around, the major events that become its focus are the build up to and anecdotes of WW2 and the Vietnam War.
Clay proves to be a brilliant invention. She’s brave (and occasionally reckless), forthright, and sometimes impulsive. Once again, I was taken in by Boyd’s skill in bring his fictional character to life in a way that completely affected me. This says a lot about the author’s ability to get right under the skin of a character and to bring the person alive in a believable and compelling way. I didn’t particularly like or dislike Amory, but I did find her entirely credible. Yes, it’s a story about war and its impact on the people who see and participate in the barbarous acts such conflicts proliferate, but it’s also about love and the relationships she has with the men and women she meets.
The book is full of brilliantly described scenes, from the Berlin strip clubs of the 20’s to the fascist riots in London’s East End in the 30’s and on to wartime experiences in France and Vietnam. The descriptions of places and events are deftly handled. Boyd really is clever and accomplished writer. He’s also brilliant at blurring the lines between fact and fiction.
Yes, ok, he’s done it all before and it does cause me to wonder why he keeps repeating largely the same exercise. Is this book better than the others I’ve referenced? The answer for me is no, but that doesn’t make it a bad book. The saving grace is that he does choose to focus on different events, or at least he offers different perspectives, with regard to his accounts of the last century. And the most important question for me is, does the book inform or entertain? Well, in my view it does both – rather well, actually.
Clay proves to be a brilliant invention. She’s brave (and occasionally reckless), forthright, and sometimes impulsive. Once again, I was taken in by Boyd’s skill in bring his fictional character to life in a way that completely affected me. This says a lot about the author’s ability to get right under the skin of a character and to bring the person alive in a believable and compelling way. I didn’t particularly like or dislike Amory, but I did find her entirely credible. Yes, it’s a story about war and its impact on the people who see and participate in the barbarous acts such conflicts proliferate, but it’s also about love and the relationships she has with the men and women she meets.
The book is full of brilliantly described scenes, from the Berlin strip clubs of the 20’s to the fascist riots in London’s East End in the 30’s and on to wartime experiences in France and Vietnam. The descriptions of places and events are deftly handled. Boyd really is clever and accomplished writer. He’s also brilliant at blurring the lines between fact and fiction.
Yes, ok, he’s done it all before and it does cause me to wonder why he keeps repeating largely the same exercise. Is this book better than the others I’ve referenced? The answer for me is no, but that doesn’t make it a bad book. The saving grace is that he does choose to focus on different events, or at least he offers different perspectives, with regard to his accounts of the last century. And the most important question for me is, does the book inform or entertain? Well, in my view it does both – rather well, actually.
November 25, 2019
In ‘Sweet Caress: The Many Lives Of Amory Clay’ William Boyd imagines himself into the head of a female professional photographer, who in her life, experiences many of the great events and turning points of the century.
The novel is written in the form of an autobiography replete with grainy back and white photos and traces Amory’s life from her middle class upbringing, through her colourful career, her various love affairs and on to her later years of reflection living in a small cottage on a barren Scottish island.
Amory was born in 1908 and over subsequent decades we follow her as she moves from the small village of her birth in East Sussex to Paris, Berlin, New York, Saigon and Barrendale Island in Scotland. She travels with her work extensively, covering society events, human interest stories, riots and wars - including time spent at the front during WW2 and the Vietnam war. As she says at one point:
‘ ......... war had shaped, directed and distorted my life in so many ways.’
William Boyd has written a small group of novels within his eclectic and prolific output that follow similar lines to that of Sweet Caress i.e. novels written in first person following a central character who over several decades bears witness to key historical events.
His earlier works The New Confessions and Any Human Heart fall into this group and are thought by many to be stronger novels. Maybe this is true but William Boyd is such a good and wise writer that the bar is set very high. I’ve never read what I consider to be a ‘bad’ Boyd novel. Does he do a good job getting into the head of a strong, unconventional, lead female character?
I’ve no idea ........... but it all felt realistic to me!
I very much enjoyed (and was ultimately moved by) Sweet Caress and as with most of William Boyd’s novels I came away with some new historical perspectives and a little more insight into the human condition.
The novel is written in the form of an autobiography replete with grainy back and white photos and traces Amory’s life from her middle class upbringing, through her colourful career, her various love affairs and on to her later years of reflection living in a small cottage on a barren Scottish island.
Amory was born in 1908 and over subsequent decades we follow her as she moves from the small village of her birth in East Sussex to Paris, Berlin, New York, Saigon and Barrendale Island in Scotland. She travels with her work extensively, covering society events, human interest stories, riots and wars - including time spent at the front during WW2 and the Vietnam war. As she says at one point:
‘ ......... war had shaped, directed and distorted my life in so many ways.’
William Boyd has written a small group of novels within his eclectic and prolific output that follow similar lines to that of Sweet Caress i.e. novels written in first person following a central character who over several decades bears witness to key historical events.
His earlier works The New Confessions and Any Human Heart fall into this group and are thought by many to be stronger novels. Maybe this is true but William Boyd is such a good and wise writer that the bar is set very high. I’ve never read what I consider to be a ‘bad’ Boyd novel. Does he do a good job getting into the head of a strong, unconventional, lead female character?
I’ve no idea ........... but it all felt realistic to me!
I very much enjoyed (and was ultimately moved by) Sweet Caress and as with most of William Boyd’s novels I came away with some new historical perspectives and a little more insight into the human condition.
July 28, 2015
There are some books that you really want to love, so when they’re good but not great it feels really disappointing. I was so excited to get an advance copy of Sweet Caress, William Boyd’s new book to be released in September. It was a treat I intended to savour. I loved Any Human Heart and I really like Boyd’s writing. Sweet Caress is being billed as another Any Human Heart -- but focused on a female protagonist. And I had – and continue to have – complete faith in William Boyd to pull off a good female central character. And Amory is a good character. She was born in the early 20th century into a middle class family, but manages to pull herself away from the expectations of her family and class – becoming a professional photographer, traveling and living abroad, covering WWII and having more than one relationship without being married, then an unusual marriage, two children, and more work as a photographer in Vietnam during the war. It's a clever concept -- told in the form of a first person memoir -- even including photos. And the beginning of the book is so strong – Armory’s family life, time in boarding school and early years as a photographer are gripping – in particular one incident involving her father. But early in Amory's professional life Sweet Caress started to sag and flounder and I found myself losing interest. (I even stopped reading it to read a few other books in between.) What started off as a strong narrative began to feel like an aimless description of events – without any particular focus or emotional depth. Somehow, it got back on track toward the end, but it’s only left me hungry for a good William Boyd novel or for a book by another equally talented British author. If you are a true lover of William Boyd’s books, you will read this one and enjoy what you can of it. If you have not read William Boyd, don’t start here – go find a copy of Any Human Heart and decide whether you are a true fan before reading The Sweet Caress. Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an opportunity to read an advance copy.
July 18, 2023
SWEET CARESS is a wonderfully crafted literary work that tells the story of Amory Clay. It’s a work of fiction, but told in the form of a journal written by Amory in 1977. The journal format allows the reader to “feel” the voyage of Amory’s life, thereby making it authentic: a work of fiction that reads like a memoir.
Amory’s life is complicated, and at times a struggle, which makes it interesting. She was born into impoverished wealth, one of three children. She is enrolled into a posh boarding school, against her will, and through a life-changing event, quits. I found her stay at the boarding school to be a favorite part of the novel. Boyd has a sense of humor. In finding herself, she chooses to follow her love of photography. At the time, 1927, it was unusual for women to be independent.
It’s Amory’s interest in photography, and her insistence on becoming a known professional photographer that colors her life. Boyd uses real international events to anchor and authenticate his story. All events of Amory’s life are realistic. He also artfully utilizes photographs and snapshots in the narration to authenticate his tale. I found the photos to be intriguing.
The story is interesting on it’s own. Boyd’s literary skill alone is a reason to read this novel. His prose is beautiful. I enjoyed every sentence. This is my first William Boyd novel, and I enjoyed his literary skills to such an extent that I intend to read his other works. Luckily for me, another GR reader, thank you Andrew, brought this novel to my attention.
I highly recommend this fine novel.
Amory’s life is complicated, and at times a struggle, which makes it interesting. She was born into impoverished wealth, one of three children. She is enrolled into a posh boarding school, against her will, and through a life-changing event, quits. I found her stay at the boarding school to be a favorite part of the novel. Boyd has a sense of humor. In finding herself, she chooses to follow her love of photography. At the time, 1927, it was unusual for women to be independent.
It’s Amory’s interest in photography, and her insistence on becoming a known professional photographer that colors her life. Boyd uses real international events to anchor and authenticate his story. All events of Amory’s life are realistic. He also artfully utilizes photographs and snapshots in the narration to authenticate his tale. I found the photos to be intriguing.
The story is interesting on it’s own. Boyd’s literary skill alone is a reason to read this novel. His prose is beautiful. I enjoyed every sentence. This is my first William Boyd novel, and I enjoyed his literary skills to such an extent that I intend to read his other works. Luckily for me, another GR reader, thank you Andrew, brought this novel to my attention.
I highly recommend this fine novel.
July 30, 2015
Who has not talked about 'those-things-your-parents-said-often', when looking back at your own life? Or talked about their parents disorders? Or tried to explain 'their' baggage? Their parents insecurities, shame, tragedies, their accomplishments?
Who has not talked about their siblings? Their characteristics?
Shared about their own lives? Their special friendships? Lovers? Hobbies? Achievements? Career? Regrets? School experiences? Sexual experiences? Self esteem issues? Travel adventures?
Amory Clay, in her late 60's, is writing about her life....( first person narration). She also includes excerpts from current journal entries: The Barrandale journal..... (Writing from her cottage in the Highlands, during the 1970's).
Amory was a first born child. Her dad gave her the name 'Amory', as he wanted a son. Her dad, a writer -- he goes off to war, during her very early childhood years ....( not at home for the birth his 2nd & 3rd children).
Her mother was raising the children. She managed to conceal her affection towards her children. She had two expressions she used all the time: "I don't like a fuss and put that in your pipe and smoke it". The kids always called her 'Mother'.
Amory's first real recollection of her dad wasn't until she was 10 years old, at a time when she was old enough to have developed a personality ...and was on the road of becoming her own person.
Peggy, who later changes her name to 'Dido', ( piano prodigy), and Xan ( simple happy boy who could amuse himself for hours)....are Amory's two younger siblings.
Amory remember's her father coming back from leave when Xan was only 3 or 4 months old.
The year was 1916. Amory particularly remembers that leave...because she watched closely
as her father held his baby 'son' Xan with a strange fixed expression on his face.
He had left precise instructions about naming his 3rd child. We will learn later in the novel
if his expectations for his 'son' match his hopes & dreams.
Her father was never the same after the war. He came home thin, irritable, and
unable to write. Yet... nothing much changed in their
household when he returned. They had a cook, a nanny, two house maids, and a gardener.
After those early days of the war... she only remembers her dad looking happy when on long walks or at the beach. Mostly he was a moody man..( or damaged from the war)
The man who Amory saw most growing up.. Was her mother's younger brother: her Uncle
Greville. He had been a photo-reconnaissance observer in the Royal Flying Corps. After breaking his leg in 5 places (ouch, I can relate)....he was invalided out of service.
Limping around...( I can relate)...Greville transformed himself into a society photographer.
Greville...(Amory never called him Uncle as he forbade it), gave her a Kodak Brownie No. 2
camera fir her 7th birthday in 1915.
**lovely photographs are inserted throughout ... all in black & white! When I looked at these photos 'with' the storytelling - I often had to stop and remind myself.. "This is not a real
memoir ...it's a fiction story". Not only does it 'feel' like a memoir... But Amory feels like a real
woman. I often had to stop and remind myself ..."this book is written by a man".
I'm impressed!
In 1921... It's announced in The Clay family that Amory will go away to a boarding Girls High School: at Amberfield "It was the first time in my life that I registered the full level of hurt, injustice, and disappointment that amounted to betrayal. My mother would hear nothing of it: 'You're a lucky girl, it's a wonderful school, don't make a fuss. I hate fuss and fusspots".
Greville would visit her at the Amberfield. He continued to teach her to take better
photographs.... which in time leads to her professional love affair with photography...mixing
with the high society crowd... then later going into war herself as a photographer.
Yet... In that first year of being sent away to school, Amory still felt a nagging resentment.
After finding the courage to ask her mother why she was the only child to be sent away...
her reply was that Peggy was a genius, and Xan had problems. ....
"And that was that, an end to the matter until my father finally went totally insane".
Older girls regularly practice kissing each other at Amberfield. Being 17 years old, Amory, wasn't sure what all the fuss was about.... But she too, wanted to 'practice' with her
best friend, Millicent.
"But aren't we femmes? Millicent asked? Kissing each other like this?"
"No, I said. We only do it to educate ourselves, to see what it would be like with a man. We are not bitter, my dear. 'Bitter' was Amberfield slang for 'perverted'.
" Then why do you want to kiss your uncle? Eight,"
"Simple – – I'm in love with him".
"And you say you are not bitter!"
"He's the handsomest, funniest, kindest, most sardonic man I've ever met. If you were in his presence – – not that you will ever be – – you'd understand".
"It just seems a bit odd to me".
"Everything in life is a bit odd, when you come to think of it. I was quoting my father – – it was something he say from time to time".
"The Barrandale Journal":
"I suppose we all--men and women --remember our first lover; like it or not; good, bad or
indifferent. However, I've a feeling that women remember more, better".
"IS THAT TRUE......men"? lol
Greville had taught Amory everything she knew about photography... but when she no longer wanted to be a virgin... and tried to seduce him....he tells her he is gay. He directed her to
another man who had eyes for her. So, after her first sexual experience ... It's as if Amory is
hungry and eager to 'be-an-independent-of-the-world'.
"I began to feel I'd already moved on by coming to Berlin-- the Amory Clay Society
Photographer era was over. I was changing".
Hannelore, (Hanna), was an influential woman that Amory met in her young adult life. She suggested Amory dress like a 'garconne' - one of the many subtypes of Berlin lesbian ... as a
way not to have to be bothered by her clients. Hanna changed Amory's look...
cropping off her hair, round clear-lense framed tortoiseshell spectacles ... giving her a
'masculinefeminine' look.
In America...Amory took photographs of the French Writer Jean-Baptiste Charbonneau
who was a mid ranking diplomat at the French consulate. It was a perfect example, that before
she met him.. her name 'Amory', (usually a man's name), was able to get the
appointment as photographer because the diplomat thought a 'Mister Photographer'
would be arriving. She would also wear an engagement ring ...lie that she was engaged to
a man back in England to avoid working problems with unmarried male colleagues.
Amory alternated between being satisfied and 'not' when living in New York.
Seeing a married man- Cleve- ( even took a trip to California with him)... would never really
end well....you think?
In her case... an even bigger surprise smacks her in the face.
When Amory is faced with a difficult choice to consider, she remembers her father's words:
"Inertia is a very underrated state of mind. If you feel you have to make a decision the
decide not to make a decision. Let time pass. Do nothing".
Travels in Guadalajara, Mexico...sex with a woman...(Constanze, which she later learns
of a sad story about this woman), then back to London......only to find herself in a sad situation soon requiring medical needs.
Back in New York:
Pearl Harbor instantly had changed everything. Life was serious.
Then...
Back to London for a job...(its a 'drama-at-it's-best' keeping up with Avory's life ...cigarettes, drinks, photography, working with journalist , sexual encounters, friends, etc).
Being the 'female' she was ... at age 36, she began to question her self...
Does having sex with only three men by this age mean she is promiscuous? And if she had
two lovers in a 24 hour day -Is she a nymphomania?
Paris: a tragic time....loss...deep sadness --- the year was 1944
Photographs of German soldiers, German tanks, 'Nazi Super-Tank' photos. Death, ... ( I can't
Imagine how anyone could stomach such a job)
Later -at age 38, in 1946....marriage! ....to Sholto Farr. They would live in Scotland!
At this point... I'll say no more.. as to anything else...of what happens for about the last 30-35%
of the story... ( no more... 'Who, what, where, or when)...
I adored this book. I'm 63 years old. I was easily able to visualize the history, the countries, the people, and nightclubs, clothes, the relationships, and connect with the emotional feelings.
I found it relaxing reading this story ... ( eased my own worries - of doctor visits,
CAT scans and more surgery). This book might not be for everyone, but it was a perfect book for me at the right time. The writing was luscious.
Thank You Bloomsbury Publishing, Netgalley, and William Boyd!
Who has not talked about their siblings? Their characteristics?
Shared about their own lives? Their special friendships? Lovers? Hobbies? Achievements? Career? Regrets? School experiences? Sexual experiences? Self esteem issues? Travel adventures?
Amory Clay, in her late 60's, is writing about her life....( first person narration). She also includes excerpts from current journal entries: The Barrandale journal..... (Writing from her cottage in the Highlands, during the 1970's).
Amory was a first born child. Her dad gave her the name 'Amory', as he wanted a son. Her dad, a writer -- he goes off to war, during her very early childhood years ....( not at home for the birth his 2nd & 3rd children).
Her mother was raising the children. She managed to conceal her affection towards her children. She had two expressions she used all the time: "I don't like a fuss and put that in your pipe and smoke it". The kids always called her 'Mother'.
Amory's first real recollection of her dad wasn't until she was 10 years old, at a time when she was old enough to have developed a personality ...and was on the road of becoming her own person.
Peggy, who later changes her name to 'Dido', ( piano prodigy), and Xan ( simple happy boy who could amuse himself for hours)....are Amory's two younger siblings.
Amory remember's her father coming back from leave when Xan was only 3 or 4 months old.
The year was 1916. Amory particularly remembers that leave...because she watched closely
as her father held his baby 'son' Xan with a strange fixed expression on his face.
He had left precise instructions about naming his 3rd child. We will learn later in the novel
if his expectations for his 'son' match his hopes & dreams.
Her father was never the same after the war. He came home thin, irritable, and
unable to write. Yet... nothing much changed in their
household when he returned. They had a cook, a nanny, two house maids, and a gardener.
After those early days of the war... she only remembers her dad looking happy when on long walks or at the beach. Mostly he was a moody man..( or damaged from the war)
The man who Amory saw most growing up.. Was her mother's younger brother: her Uncle
Greville. He had been a photo-reconnaissance observer in the Royal Flying Corps. After breaking his leg in 5 places (ouch, I can relate)....he was invalided out of service.
Limping around...( I can relate)...Greville transformed himself into a society photographer.
Greville...(Amory never called him Uncle as he forbade it), gave her a Kodak Brownie No. 2
camera fir her 7th birthday in 1915.
**lovely photographs are inserted throughout ... all in black & white! When I looked at these photos 'with' the storytelling - I often had to stop and remind myself.. "This is not a real
memoir ...it's a fiction story". Not only does it 'feel' like a memoir... But Amory feels like a real
woman. I often had to stop and remind myself ..."this book is written by a man".
I'm impressed!
In 1921... It's announced in The Clay family that Amory will go away to a boarding Girls High School: at Amberfield "It was the first time in my life that I registered the full level of hurt, injustice, and disappointment that amounted to betrayal. My mother would hear nothing of it: 'You're a lucky girl, it's a wonderful school, don't make a fuss. I hate fuss and fusspots".
Greville would visit her at the Amberfield. He continued to teach her to take better
photographs.... which in time leads to her professional love affair with photography...mixing
with the high society crowd... then later going into war herself as a photographer.
Yet... In that first year of being sent away to school, Amory still felt a nagging resentment.
After finding the courage to ask her mother why she was the only child to be sent away...
her reply was that Peggy was a genius, and Xan had problems. ....
"And that was that, an end to the matter until my father finally went totally insane".
Older girls regularly practice kissing each other at Amberfield. Being 17 years old, Amory, wasn't sure what all the fuss was about.... But she too, wanted to 'practice' with her
best friend, Millicent.
"But aren't we femmes? Millicent asked? Kissing each other like this?"
"No, I said. We only do it to educate ourselves, to see what it would be like with a man. We are not bitter, my dear. 'Bitter' was Amberfield slang for 'perverted'.
" Then why do you want to kiss your uncle? Eight,"
"Simple – – I'm in love with him".
"And you say you are not bitter!"
"He's the handsomest, funniest, kindest, most sardonic man I've ever met. If you were in his presence – – not that you will ever be – – you'd understand".
"It just seems a bit odd to me".
"Everything in life is a bit odd, when you come to think of it. I was quoting my father – – it was something he say from time to time".
"The Barrandale Journal":
"I suppose we all--men and women --remember our first lover; like it or not; good, bad or
indifferent. However, I've a feeling that women remember more, better".
"IS THAT TRUE......men"? lol
Greville had taught Amory everything she knew about photography... but when she no longer wanted to be a virgin... and tried to seduce him....he tells her he is gay. He directed her to
another man who had eyes for her. So, after her first sexual experience ... It's as if Amory is
hungry and eager to 'be-an-independent-of-the-world'.
"I began to feel I'd already moved on by coming to Berlin-- the Amory Clay Society
Photographer era was over. I was changing".
Hannelore, (Hanna), was an influential woman that Amory met in her young adult life. She suggested Amory dress like a 'garconne' - one of the many subtypes of Berlin lesbian ... as a
way not to have to be bothered by her clients. Hanna changed Amory's look...
cropping off her hair, round clear-lense framed tortoiseshell spectacles ... giving her a
'masculinefeminine' look.
In America...Amory took photographs of the French Writer Jean-Baptiste Charbonneau
who was a mid ranking diplomat at the French consulate. It was a perfect example, that before
she met him.. her name 'Amory', (usually a man's name), was able to get the
appointment as photographer because the diplomat thought a 'Mister Photographer'
would be arriving. She would also wear an engagement ring ...lie that she was engaged to
a man back in England to avoid working problems with unmarried male colleagues.
Amory alternated between being satisfied and 'not' when living in New York.
Seeing a married man- Cleve- ( even took a trip to California with him)... would never really
end well....you think?
In her case... an even bigger surprise smacks her in the face.
When Amory is faced with a difficult choice to consider, she remembers her father's words:
"Inertia is a very underrated state of mind. If you feel you have to make a decision the
decide not to make a decision. Let time pass. Do nothing".
Travels in Guadalajara, Mexico...sex with a woman...(Constanze, which she later learns
of a sad story about this woman), then back to London......only to find herself in a sad situation soon requiring medical needs.
Back in New York:
Pearl Harbor instantly had changed everything. Life was serious.
Then...
Back to London for a job...(its a 'drama-at-it's-best' keeping up with Avory's life ...cigarettes, drinks, photography, working with journalist , sexual encounters, friends, etc).
Being the 'female' she was ... at age 36, she began to question her self...
Does having sex with only three men by this age mean she is promiscuous? And if she had
two lovers in a 24 hour day -Is she a nymphomania?
Paris: a tragic time....loss...deep sadness --- the year was 1944
Photographs of German soldiers, German tanks, 'Nazi Super-Tank' photos. Death, ... ( I can't
Imagine how anyone could stomach such a job)
Later -at age 38, in 1946....marriage! ....to Sholto Farr. They would live in Scotland!
At this point... I'll say no more.. as to anything else...of what happens for about the last 30-35%
of the story... ( no more... 'Who, what, where, or when)...
I adored this book. I'm 63 years old. I was easily able to visualize the history, the countries, the people, and nightclubs, clothes, the relationships, and connect with the emotional feelings.
I found it relaxing reading this story ... ( eased my own worries - of doctor visits,
CAT scans and more surgery). This book might not be for everyone, but it was a perfect book for me at the right time. The writing was luscious.
Thank You Bloomsbury Publishing, Netgalley, and William Boyd!
February 7, 2021
3.5 stars.
There are many excellent reviews of this novel on GR which discuss Sweet Caress in great depth. So I will just write a few words about my experience reading this novel.
I liked Sweet Caress by William Boyd but I didn’t love it. I was interested in this very readable story but it did not compare favorably to Boyd's other novels which I loved, particularly the ones which follow a protagonist's life from beginning to end throughout key events of the 20th Century, like Any Human Heart and Love is Blind. The latter 2 books were a pure joy to read and I marveled at Boyd’s writing, his imagination and his characters and was always fully engaged by the stories. In contrast, Sweet Caress is very readable but the plot and the protagonist Amory Clay, and the secondary characters didn’t have the substance to make them come fully to life. Another problem stemming from this lack of substance was that Amory spent the book/her life going from one life event and lover to the next but some of the segues were leaps instead of a natural flow within the story because Boyd didn't set them up well enough. But the worst part is that I never felt like I knew or cared very much for Amory. I know Amory’s story and I know things about her and her life, but Boyd doesn’t show us her inner life. The reader is told what she feels, but isn’t shown.
I would recommend this book to Boyd fans only. Please do read the other reviews especially since I mostly focus on the negative aspects of this novel.
My comments and my rating are based on my comparing this novel to other Boyd novels. He set a high bar with his best works. I have changed the star rating of this book several times since finishing it yesterday and might still change it again.
I will end with a quote from Amory:
"The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews."
There are many excellent reviews of this novel on GR which discuss Sweet Caress in great depth. So I will just write a few words about my experience reading this novel.
I liked Sweet Caress by William Boyd but I didn’t love it. I was interested in this very readable story but it did not compare favorably to Boyd's other novels which I loved, particularly the ones which follow a protagonist's life from beginning to end throughout key events of the 20th Century, like Any Human Heart and Love is Blind. The latter 2 books were a pure joy to read and I marveled at Boyd’s writing, his imagination and his characters and was always fully engaged by the stories. In contrast, Sweet Caress is very readable but the plot and the protagonist Amory Clay, and the secondary characters didn’t have the substance to make them come fully to life. Another problem stemming from this lack of substance was that Amory spent the book/her life going from one life event and lover to the next but some of the segues were leaps instead of a natural flow within the story because Boyd didn't set them up well enough. But the worst part is that I never felt like I knew or cared very much for Amory. I know Amory’s story and I know things about her and her life, but Boyd doesn’t show us her inner life. The reader is told what she feels, but isn’t shown.
I would recommend this book to Boyd fans only. Please do read the other reviews especially since I mostly focus on the negative aspects of this novel.
My comments and my rating are based on my comparing this novel to other Boyd novels. He set a high bar with his best works. I have changed the star rating of this book several times since finishing it yesterday and might still change it again.
I will end with a quote from Amory:
"The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews."
January 29, 2020
However long your stay on this small planet lasts, and whatever happens during it, the most important thing is that – from time to time – you feel life’s sweet caress.
A fictional quote from a fictional character is used here to introduce us to the true-to-life memoirs of another fictional character: Amory Clay, our guide through three score years and ten of her ‘horizontal fall’ through the twentieth century. Amory is looking back at the past from the loneliness of a little island off the Western coast of Scotland, the place she has finally settled on after being hurled like a storm-tossed log through three major wars and several love affairs.
Amory has a word game she learned from her socialite uncle and artistic mentor Greville, a game she would later play with her daughters and with us – the readers. Mainly, it’s about trying to describe any person you see on the street and any situation using only four adverbs. If I were to describe the current novel by playing this particular game, I would go with : clever, complicated, elegant, alive. William Boyd, being so much better at words than me, came up with one French expression ( ‘un peu loufouque’ ) and a four adverb translation: burlesque, extravagant, bizarre and droll.
But where is Amory Clay between all these adverbs? And why should we care about her life at all? What makes her so special, so memorable, so representative of our modern life? I know that memoirs, fictional or real, are not really my favorite literary genre, so how did Mr. Boyd manage to make ordinary, often boring, stumbling through life Amory Clay mean so much to me? It’s a gift, a true magic trick that makes you see your own life experience reflected in the pages of a novel.
All family histories, personal histories, are as sketchy and unreliable as histories of the Phoenicians, it seems to me. We should note everything down, fill in the wide gaps if we can. Which is why I am writing this, my darlings.
Most of us don’t keep journals, or work on our memoirs, or even consider our own lives memorable at all. As I’m getting older though, I sometimes wish I did write things down. Or that I asked more questions about our family history while I still could. I’m left now mostly with old photographs of near strangers, some of which I need to invent background stories for in the absence of real context. The life of Amory Clay is also told mostly through photographs, an integral part of the text and of her whole life – the one thing that she has really chosen right from the start and not been forced upon her from outside influences.
I think tonight I might begin to sort out all those old boxes of photographs. Or maybe not.
The first image, the first memory, the beginning of her journey: a little girl living in a beautiful mansion in the countryside receives her very first snapshot camera. It is another form of magic: you can freeze time / motion / memory with the click of a button. Looking at that first effort, some seven decades later, what does it say to you? What is left of that distant summer day on the lawn in 1914? An age of innocence, unspoiled yet by the horrors of the trenches, “the light and the laughter” that might, just might, help you get through the rough patches ahead.
And Amory Clay will receive more than her fair share of lemons from life in the following decades. Everything will be taken away from her, one way or another. Family ties, lovers, success, health, money, children, friends. She ends up alone in a remote house on a small island, with only a dog and a camera for companionship. And with her memories.
Time is a racehorse, eating up the furlongs as it gallops towards the finish line. Look away for a moment, be preoccupied for a moment, and then imagine what has passed you by.
I am tempted to go though each and every chapter of Amory’s biography, and find something pertinent to say about it. For sure, there are moments that have been captured in a photograph, turning points that took her abruptly from a comfortable small gentry farmhouse lifestyle down dark paths that include roadside accidents, accusations of obscenity, exile to foreign shores, wartime reports from Germany and Vietnam, street muggings, alienation, government abductions and illness. The only constants in Amory’s life are her passion for photography, her resilience, her stubborness that kept picking her up after each knockdown. Some might call it stoicism, resignation.
We don’t sense mistakes coming, there’s this crucial unforeseen factor to them. So I found myself asking the question: what is the opposite of a mistake? And I realised there wasn’t a word, in fact, precisely because a mistake always arises from best intentions that go awry. You can’t set out to make a mistake. Mistakes happen – there’s nothing we can do about them.
A majority of the grief that comes her way, Amory rightly blames on war. Armed conflict is indeed a defining trait of the twentieth century, and this memoir is as much an exploration of the way it creates collateral damage for each of us as it is a search for artistic expression through photography and a map of the twisted paths love follows. From a father traumatized by his experiences in Flanders, to a brother becoming part of the statistics of carnage in the next world war, a husband driven to drink by witnessing war crimes and her own mauling at the hands of homegrown fascists on the streets of London, Amory knows that for her life to make any kind of sense she must confront this demon. When other people think about retirement, she goes back to her career as a war photographer in Vietnam.
I think now – now that time has passed – that what I really wanted, fundamentally, was to confront warfare again. [...] War had shaped, directed and distorted my life in so many ways – through my father, Xan, Sholto.
I see something more in these memoirs, something that is hinted at right from the start in that quote from Jeanne-Baptise Charbonneau that opens the novel. There’s a silver lining for those of us who are able to weather the storms and wait for the next break in the clouds, however brief the sun may shine. A sense of humour and a friendly shoulder to lean on will also help. For Amory, one of those friends is Charbonneau, a French novelist who crosses her path (and becomes her lover) in New York and in Paris.
Then he smiled at me
‘And if we’re not amused by life we might as well take our cyanide pill now – no?’
Love is, like many other things in Amory’s history, hard to capture and easily misplaced. Yet what choice do we have but either to succumb to its promise or to lock our hearts tight against future disappointments. Amory is let down more than once in her amorous pursuits, but, like with her photographic career, she refuses to give up.
‘Have you ever had an affair, Amory?’ she asked me.
‘Well, not when I was married,’ I said. ‘But I did have an affair when I was having an affair.’ I paused, thinking back. ‘Twice, in fact.’
‘Only you could make it that complicated,’ she said.
>>><<<>>><<<
The rest of my quotes from the novel are mostly repetitions on the given themes of stoical acceptance of grief and pain, unavoidable in a long life, yet the only choice we have if we want a chance to taste the sweetness.
Sometimes it seems to me as if my life had been made up entirely of curveballs and unwelcome surprises
;;;
The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews, as the poet says: not to be born is the best for man – only that way can you avoid all of life’s complications.
;;;
My three score years and ten have been rich and intensely sad, fascinating, droll, absurd and terrifying – sometimes – and difficult and painful and happy. Complicated, in other words.
and finally,
What’s waiting for me? A cold fine day, a dog, a walk, a white beach, a wind-scored ocean, a camera, an urgent concentrating eye, a curious active mind. I weigh the orange in my hand, sniff its citrus astringency. The singular beauty of the orange ... The here and now. Seize the day, Amory.
A fictional quote from a fictional character is used here to introduce us to the true-to-life memoirs of another fictional character: Amory Clay, our guide through three score years and ten of her ‘horizontal fall’ through the twentieth century. Amory is looking back at the past from the loneliness of a little island off the Western coast of Scotland, the place she has finally settled on after being hurled like a storm-tossed log through three major wars and several love affairs.
Amory has a word game she learned from her socialite uncle and artistic mentor Greville, a game she would later play with her daughters and with us – the readers. Mainly, it’s about trying to describe any person you see on the street and any situation using only four adverbs. If I were to describe the current novel by playing this particular game, I would go with : clever, complicated, elegant, alive. William Boyd, being so much better at words than me, came up with one French expression ( ‘un peu loufouque’ ) and a four adverb translation: burlesque, extravagant, bizarre and droll.
But where is Amory Clay between all these adverbs? And why should we care about her life at all? What makes her so special, so memorable, so representative of our modern life? I know that memoirs, fictional or real, are not really my favorite literary genre, so how did Mr. Boyd manage to make ordinary, often boring, stumbling through life Amory Clay mean so much to me? It’s a gift, a true magic trick that makes you see your own life experience reflected in the pages of a novel.
All family histories, personal histories, are as sketchy and unreliable as histories of the Phoenicians, it seems to me. We should note everything down, fill in the wide gaps if we can. Which is why I am writing this, my darlings.
Most of us don’t keep journals, or work on our memoirs, or even consider our own lives memorable at all. As I’m getting older though, I sometimes wish I did write things down. Or that I asked more questions about our family history while I still could. I’m left now mostly with old photographs of near strangers, some of which I need to invent background stories for in the absence of real context. The life of Amory Clay is also told mostly through photographs, an integral part of the text and of her whole life – the one thing that she has really chosen right from the start and not been forced upon her from outside influences.
I think tonight I might begin to sort out all those old boxes of photographs. Or maybe not.
The first image, the first memory, the beginning of her journey: a little girl living in a beautiful mansion in the countryside receives her very first snapshot camera. It is another form of magic: you can freeze time / motion / memory with the click of a button. Looking at that first effort, some seven decades later, what does it say to you? What is left of that distant summer day on the lawn in 1914? An age of innocence, unspoiled yet by the horrors of the trenches, “the light and the laughter” that might, just might, help you get through the rough patches ahead.
And Amory Clay will receive more than her fair share of lemons from life in the following decades. Everything will be taken away from her, one way or another. Family ties, lovers, success, health, money, children, friends. She ends up alone in a remote house on a small island, with only a dog and a camera for companionship. And with her memories.
Time is a racehorse, eating up the furlongs as it gallops towards the finish line. Look away for a moment, be preoccupied for a moment, and then imagine what has passed you by.
I am tempted to go though each and every chapter of Amory’s biography, and find something pertinent to say about it. For sure, there are moments that have been captured in a photograph, turning points that took her abruptly from a comfortable small gentry farmhouse lifestyle down dark paths that include roadside accidents, accusations of obscenity, exile to foreign shores, wartime reports from Germany and Vietnam, street muggings, alienation, government abductions and illness. The only constants in Amory’s life are her passion for photography, her resilience, her stubborness that kept picking her up after each knockdown. Some might call it stoicism, resignation.
We don’t sense mistakes coming, there’s this crucial unforeseen factor to them. So I found myself asking the question: what is the opposite of a mistake? And I realised there wasn’t a word, in fact, precisely because a mistake always arises from best intentions that go awry. You can’t set out to make a mistake. Mistakes happen – there’s nothing we can do about them.
A majority of the grief that comes her way, Amory rightly blames on war. Armed conflict is indeed a defining trait of the twentieth century, and this memoir is as much an exploration of the way it creates collateral damage for each of us as it is a search for artistic expression through photography and a map of the twisted paths love follows. From a father traumatized by his experiences in Flanders, to a brother becoming part of the statistics of carnage in the next world war, a husband driven to drink by witnessing war crimes and her own mauling at the hands of homegrown fascists on the streets of London, Amory knows that for her life to make any kind of sense she must confront this demon. When other people think about retirement, she goes back to her career as a war photographer in Vietnam.
I think now – now that time has passed – that what I really wanted, fundamentally, was to confront warfare again. [...] War had shaped, directed and distorted my life in so many ways – through my father, Xan, Sholto.
I see something more in these memoirs, something that is hinted at right from the start in that quote from Jeanne-Baptise Charbonneau that opens the novel. There’s a silver lining for those of us who are able to weather the storms and wait for the next break in the clouds, however brief the sun may shine. A sense of humour and a friendly shoulder to lean on will also help. For Amory, one of those friends is Charbonneau, a French novelist who crosses her path (and becomes her lover) in New York and in Paris.
Then he smiled at me
‘And if we’re not amused by life we might as well take our cyanide pill now – no?’
Love is, like many other things in Amory’s history, hard to capture and easily misplaced. Yet what choice do we have but either to succumb to its promise or to lock our hearts tight against future disappointments. Amory is let down more than once in her amorous pursuits, but, like with her photographic career, she refuses to give up.
‘Have you ever had an affair, Amory?’ she asked me.
‘Well, not when I was married,’ I said. ‘But I did have an affair when I was having an affair.’ I paused, thinking back. ‘Twice, in fact.’
‘Only you could make it that complicated,’ she said.
>>><<<>>><<<
The rest of my quotes from the novel are mostly repetitions on the given themes of stoical acceptance of grief and pain, unavoidable in a long life, yet the only choice we have if we want a chance to taste the sweetness.
Sometimes it seems to me as if my life had been made up entirely of curveballs and unwelcome surprises
;;;
The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews, as the poet says: not to be born is the best for man – only that way can you avoid all of life’s complications.
;;;
My three score years and ten have been rich and intensely sad, fascinating, droll, absurd and terrifying – sometimes – and difficult and painful and happy. Complicated, in other words.
and finally,
What’s waiting for me? A cold fine day, a dog, a walk, a white beach, a wind-scored ocean, a camera, an urgent concentrating eye, a curious active mind. I weigh the orange in my hand, sniff its citrus astringency. The singular beauty of the orange ... The here and now. Seize the day, Amory.
August 9, 2015
This story of the life and loves of a female photographer presents enough clarity of details across an interesting period of history to capture my imagination, but it left me with the task of breathing life into the character. Amory Clay is writing an account of her life from a late phase where she lives alone in a seacoast cottage in Scotland in the 70s. Despite the memoir format she is rather matter of fact about her relatively happy life and not anguished about her modest successes in her relationships and photography career. From the start we see her forgiving of herself for getting into certain messes and mostly not regretful about the choices she has made. In summing up her trajectory through life, it’s hard not to feel affection for her outlook and to see through her self-deprecation to recognize some bravery in certain chances she has taken for her art and admiration for so few moral transgressions when economic circumstances made their demands.
The coherence of Amory’s life and impact she has made on others is rather joyous to behold, but I still hankered for something more endearing in the rendering and something more to say about how a photographic artist comes to flower. We experience bits of her family upbringing in England in the 1920’s, a life that includes an emotionally distant mother, a dreamy brother, a musically talented sister, and a loving father who enjoys a modest success in a writing career and hollow spots for the dark secrets from his war experiences. All pretty ordinary except for the periodic mental breakdowns by her father. Knowing that Amory is a photographer leads us to expect that her passion and pathways in her career comprise the core focus of this novel. I always hope to be enlightened on the origins of the vision and ambitions of a great artist or genius in talent. Somehow it feels up to me to color that in, which as always exceeds my grasp.
I now share a bit on the book’s content with respect to Amory’s art, so bee warned that the details could be considered a spoiler. We are first treated to a tour of Amory’s youthful mentorship in London fashion photography with her gay uncle. Her favorite photos of her clients from a human rather than elegant perspective are not wanted. With her breakaway to experiment with “art” photography in the risqué clubs of pre-war Berlin, we see her reach for an avante garde window on a subculture, only to get in trouble with its perceived pornographic content. She takes a turn toward photojournalism and gets a job with an American news magazine. Her father’s experience with World War 1 contributes to her compulsion to seek coverage of World War 2 action in France. Though she has a few successes, the reality of the dangers forces her to rein her ambitions in. We hear about and get some illustrations her themes of interest, such as light reflections on water and scenes that evoke missing people, but there is no sense of esthetic vision we can really grasp from such tantalizing bits. Only later, in middle age, does she get drawn back to a passion for photojournalism and she wangles a field position covering the Vietnam War. Instead of dramatic war scenes she eventually chooses the everyday life of rural people and of the occupying soldiers as her subject.
If this was a fictional rendering of a significant real photographer, maybe I would have been more engaged. Why is it that with a fictional character it takes a portrait that is larger than life to satisfy me? The alternative is a realistic, distorted, or satirical portrait of another time and place in history with the characters used to bring that to life, but this novel spreads over too many times and places to serve in that way. I come back to the collusion that Boyd seems to be tasking the reader with on envisioning this life of a fairly ordinary woman. I don’t “get” it. I loved his portrayal of scientists biased in their study of wild chimps in Africa in his “Brazzaville Beach”, so I intend to pursue more of Boyd’s diverse work.
This novel was provided as an ebook for review by the publisher through the Netgalley program.
The coherence of Amory’s life and impact she has made on others is rather joyous to behold, but I still hankered for something more endearing in the rendering and something more to say about how a photographic artist comes to flower. We experience bits of her family upbringing in England in the 1920’s, a life that includes an emotionally distant mother, a dreamy brother, a musically talented sister, and a loving father who enjoys a modest success in a writing career and hollow spots for the dark secrets from his war experiences. All pretty ordinary except for the periodic mental breakdowns by her father. Knowing that Amory is a photographer leads us to expect that her passion and pathways in her career comprise the core focus of this novel. I always hope to be enlightened on the origins of the vision and ambitions of a great artist or genius in talent. Somehow it feels up to me to color that in, which as always exceeds my grasp.
I now share a bit on the book’s content with respect to Amory’s art, so bee warned that the details could be considered a spoiler. We are first treated to a tour of Amory’s youthful mentorship in London fashion photography with her gay uncle. Her favorite photos of her clients from a human rather than elegant perspective are not wanted. With her breakaway to experiment with “art” photography in the risqué clubs of pre-war Berlin, we see her reach for an avante garde window on a subculture, only to get in trouble with its perceived pornographic content. She takes a turn toward photojournalism and gets a job with an American news magazine. Her father’s experience with World War 1 contributes to her compulsion to seek coverage of World War 2 action in France. Though she has a few successes, the reality of the dangers forces her to rein her ambitions in. We hear about and get some illustrations her themes of interest, such as light reflections on water and scenes that evoke missing people, but there is no sense of esthetic vision we can really grasp from such tantalizing bits. Only later, in middle age, does she get drawn back to a passion for photojournalism and she wangles a field position covering the Vietnam War. Instead of dramatic war scenes she eventually chooses the everyday life of rural people and of the occupying soldiers as her subject.
If this was a fictional rendering of a significant real photographer, maybe I would have been more engaged. Why is it that with a fictional character it takes a portrait that is larger than life to satisfy me? The alternative is a realistic, distorted, or satirical portrait of another time and place in history with the characters used to bring that to life, but this novel spreads over too many times and places to serve in that way. I come back to the collusion that Boyd seems to be tasking the reader with on envisioning this life of a fairly ordinary woman. I don’t “get” it. I loved his portrayal of scientists biased in their study of wild chimps in Africa in his “Brazzaville Beach”, so I intend to pursue more of Boyd’s diverse work.
This novel was provided as an ebook for review by the publisher through the Netgalley program.
September 22, 2019
Amory Clay is a photographer travelling trough the world..
Amory Clays life is like a roadmap with milestones protruding aimlessly and chaotic..
But most of all Amory Clays life is the story of a life fully lived!!!
A few milestones of her life:
**The demi-monde of 1920s Berlin**
**New York in the 1930s**
**The Blackshirt riots in London**
**France during the Second World War**
William Boyd novel carries the title "Sweet Caress", the meaning is as follow:
"However long your stay on this small planet lasts, and whatever happens during it, the most important thing is that-- from time to time --you feel life's sweet caress.."
A deeply touching and vivid rendering of a life well lived!!!
Amory Clay and her hunger after life will stay with me unforgotten and for a long time..
This beautiful novel will nestle down in your heart and mind giving you a new appreciation for what it means lo be alive in spite of the complications and sufferings we are to undergo!!!
Happy readings..
Dean;)
Amory Clays life is like a roadmap with milestones protruding aimlessly and chaotic..
But most of all Amory Clays life is the story of a life fully lived!!!
A few milestones of her life:
**The demi-monde of 1920s Berlin**
**New York in the 1930s**
**The Blackshirt riots in London**
**France during the Second World War**
William Boyd novel carries the title "Sweet Caress", the meaning is as follow:
"However long your stay on this small planet lasts, and whatever happens during it, the most important thing is that-- from time to time --you feel life's sweet caress.."
A deeply touching and vivid rendering of a life well lived!!!
Amory Clay and her hunger after life will stay with me unforgotten and for a long time..
This beautiful novel will nestle down in your heart and mind giving you a new appreciation for what it means lo be alive in spite of the complications and sufferings we are to undergo!!!
Happy readings..
Dean;)
July 29, 2015
Most of us have had this experience: we’re at a party and a remarkable woman is holding sway; we’re attracted to her like moths to a candle. Her achievements…the illustrious people she knows…her daring pursuits…mesmerize us for the few hours we’re in her company. Yet we walk away feeling as if we only know what she chooses to reveal. At the end of the day, we realize we don’t really understand much about her at all.
That, in a nutshell, is how I felt about Amory Clay, the key character in William Boyd’s Sweet Caress.
The story starts promisingly enough. Given a boy’s name by a father who yearned for a son, Amory quickly reveals herself to not fit into the mold of the typical “wife-and-mother” track. As an exceptional photographer, her story is often focused on the events of the century: the excesses of pre-Hitler Berlin and the rise of the Socialist party, the Blackshirt riots in London, glamorous France prior to and during WW II, Vietnam. Throughout the ups and downs of her professional career, Amory juggles lovers, a husband, children, and real-life luminaries in the publishing and photography fields.
For me, the problem was that I never was privy to the introspection and, indeed, the essence of who Amory Clay really was. It is no spoiler that we know what became of her; various interspersed passages ground us in her present life in Scotland, circa 1977. William Boyd grounds us in another way too: he includes sepia photographs as a means of showcasing Amory’s photography career. (I must admit to more than a little curiosity of the source of the photos). By doing so, he taps into nostalgia and provides a faux reality that can sometimes be elusive in books.
The novel soars highest at the beginning and the end. During those times, Amory Clay comes most alive as we witness the troubled relationship she holds with one integral family member and then another. The complexity and pluckiness of the character really shines during these times. But when the book turns its lens on her life as a photographer – particularly as a war photographer in the second World War and later in Vietnam – it seems (pardon the pun) out-of-focus, more interested in the subject matter than the subject herself.
In some ways, the book reminded me of another one I’ve read this year: Circling the Sun by Paula McLain – a well-researched book where history sometimes overshadows the depth of character. Now, for many readers, that’s a good thing and I’m the first to admit that reading is subjective. It may well be that, with few exceptions, sagas that span many years are not my “thing.”
I loved William Boyd’s psychologically astute Waiting for Sunrise. I’ve loved some of his other books, too. I haven’t read Any Human Heart, but friends who have tell me that this one is somewhat similar. So go ahead and give it a try. This is a talented author and it may very well be the reader, not the writer, who is at fault.
That, in a nutshell, is how I felt about Amory Clay, the key character in William Boyd’s Sweet Caress.
The story starts promisingly enough. Given a boy’s name by a father who yearned for a son, Amory quickly reveals herself to not fit into the mold of the typical “wife-and-mother” track. As an exceptional photographer, her story is often focused on the events of the century: the excesses of pre-Hitler Berlin and the rise of the Socialist party, the Blackshirt riots in London, glamorous France prior to and during WW II, Vietnam. Throughout the ups and downs of her professional career, Amory juggles lovers, a husband, children, and real-life luminaries in the publishing and photography fields.
For me, the problem was that I never was privy to the introspection and, indeed, the essence of who Amory Clay really was. It is no spoiler that we know what became of her; various interspersed passages ground us in her present life in Scotland, circa 1977. William Boyd grounds us in another way too: he includes sepia photographs as a means of showcasing Amory’s photography career. (I must admit to more than a little curiosity of the source of the photos). By doing so, he taps into nostalgia and provides a faux reality that can sometimes be elusive in books.
The novel soars highest at the beginning and the end. During those times, Amory Clay comes most alive as we witness the troubled relationship she holds with one integral family member and then another. The complexity and pluckiness of the character really shines during these times. But when the book turns its lens on her life as a photographer – particularly as a war photographer in the second World War and later in Vietnam – it seems (pardon the pun) out-of-focus, more interested in the subject matter than the subject herself.
In some ways, the book reminded me of another one I’ve read this year: Circling the Sun by Paula McLain – a well-researched book where history sometimes overshadows the depth of character. Now, for many readers, that’s a good thing and I’m the first to admit that reading is subjective. It may well be that, with few exceptions, sagas that span many years are not my “thing.”
I loved William Boyd’s psychologically astute Waiting for Sunrise. I’ve loved some of his other books, too. I haven’t read Any Human Heart, but friends who have tell me that this one is somewhat similar. So go ahead and give it a try. This is a talented author and it may very well be the reader, not the writer, who is at fault.
July 15, 2015
William Boyd is accomplished at writing from the women’s point of view, and not in a soft, sentimental style. His women are fully dimensional and intelligent, and a combination of rare and familiar. In this, his bildungsroman of a woman growing up in the war years, he takes us with Amory to London, Berlin, New York, Paris, the Vosges, the Rhineland, Vietnam, California, and Scotland. The journeys of Amory Clay shaped her consciousness; her father's influence shaped the journeys of her heart.
Amory Clay was born in the Edwardian Era in England, in 1908, in Hampstead Heath, and moved with her family to East Sussex while very young. This is her story, told from the pages of her Barrandale Journals (Scotland) in 1977, at the age of 69, looking back at her life with a matured lens, and alternating with a linear-ish self-portrayal from girlhood to her present time.
The book is divided by eight Books, separated by years, such as 1908-1927, or 1968-1977, and each book is sub-headed by titled chapters, such as “LIFE IS SWEET,” “BERLIN,” and “D-Day.”
Amory is fictional, of course, but she leaps off the pages so vividly that you can hear the ice tinkling in her glass and see the smoke curling from her cigarette. She was always a forward-thinking individual, very much herself, and a keen observer. It was a pleasure to be inside her head for over 400 pages, and see the world from her sharp, adventurer’s eyes.
When Amory was seven, in 1915, her uncle Greville, a veteran and photo-reconnaisance observer in the Royal Flying Corps (now a society photographer), introduced her to her first camera, a Kodak Brownie No. 2. This was the beginning of a love affair with photography, one that subsequently gave her access to high society, iconic events, and the brutalities of war(s). Amory’s life unfolds within the backdrop of a tumultuous and dynamic history, a bygone era lived by a modern woman.
The turning point of Amory’s life was a shocking event ignited by her father, a struggling writer, and a soldier of the Great War. When he came home after the war to his wife and three children, he was severely damaged by events he would not disclose—we would call it PTSD in our era. I’ll let readers discover on their own what happened. However, on page three, a foreshadowing:
“Was that why he tried to kill me later, I wonder…?”
In fact, Amory often reveals, in a few circumspect words, future occurrences, but in the hands of Boyd, it doesn’t alter the later pleasure of disclosure. Instead, it piques our interest and adds to the development of plot and character. Likewise, Amory’s relationship with her father informs her future relationships with men.
Boyd's narrative of Amory's life flickers with a vintage patina--just enough to distinguish the era. She’s not defined as a feminist or bohemian, but Amory was radiant, with dishy social skills and a fluid intellect; she didn’t capitulate to men in her work. She’s au courant with a touch of the droll, a hint of the Bacall, but not a mock-me-up stereotype. Amory is complex, with an agile, resourceful sensibility. Even during the years that she was stuck doing weddings or cheesy portraits, she continued to build her portfolio on the side.
In her love life, Amory made some unfortunate choices, but she was savvy—she didn’t bury her head in the sand when she carried on a long-term love affair with her married boss. Amory told the woman’s side of a man’s world, alight in the age of exclusion. She pushed through uncertainties and refused regrets. And her ardent ambitions and unconventional talent gave her entrance to notable events, such as The Maroon Street Riot, WWW II, and the Vietnam War. Her professional practice also led to a watershed effect in her personal life.
Peppered throughout the novel are Amory's black-and-white photographs, which authenticates and deepens her character, giving us glimpses of her work. (I would love to know where these photos are really from. Boyd's ancestors?)I just finished a book by Jane Urquhart, The Night Stages, where one of the quotes and themes was “the presence of the absence,” and, kismet! Here it happened again! Amory’s life began on its trajectory with the absences of her father, and it informed her artistry, which she pursued in her pictures. As she evolves, so does her artistic vision, imbued by the ripples in her life, her pursuit for the eternal moment.
"In my hands I had the power to stop time, or so I thought."
Boyd dodges boilerplate cliché by keeping it real He is obviously aware of books such as Marjorie Morningstar and The Dud Avocado, but SWEET CARESS doesn’t succumb to derivative mimicking. Amory is a singular woman written by a spirited writer.
I was swept up in Amory’s character, and the way she perceived and acted upon the world around her. By the end of this intoxicating story, I reckoned that history wouldn’t have been the same without her.
Amory Clay was born in the Edwardian Era in England, in 1908, in Hampstead Heath, and moved with her family to East Sussex while very young. This is her story, told from the pages of her Barrandale Journals (Scotland) in 1977, at the age of 69, looking back at her life with a matured lens, and alternating with a linear-ish self-portrayal from girlhood to her present time.
The book is divided by eight Books, separated by years, such as 1908-1927, or 1968-1977, and each book is sub-headed by titled chapters, such as “LIFE IS SWEET,” “BERLIN,” and “D-Day.”
Amory is fictional, of course, but she leaps off the pages so vividly that you can hear the ice tinkling in her glass and see the smoke curling from her cigarette. She was always a forward-thinking individual, very much herself, and a keen observer. It was a pleasure to be inside her head for over 400 pages, and see the world from her sharp, adventurer’s eyes.
When Amory was seven, in 1915, her uncle Greville, a veteran and photo-reconnaisance observer in the Royal Flying Corps (now a society photographer), introduced her to her first camera, a Kodak Brownie No. 2. This was the beginning of a love affair with photography, one that subsequently gave her access to high society, iconic events, and the brutalities of war(s). Amory’s life unfolds within the backdrop of a tumultuous and dynamic history, a bygone era lived by a modern woman.
The turning point of Amory’s life was a shocking event ignited by her father, a struggling writer, and a soldier of the Great War. When he came home after the war to his wife and three children, he was severely damaged by events he would not disclose—we would call it PTSD in our era. I’ll let readers discover on their own what happened. However, on page three, a foreshadowing:
“Was that why he tried to kill me later, I wonder…?”
In fact, Amory often reveals, in a few circumspect words, future occurrences, but in the hands of Boyd, it doesn’t alter the later pleasure of disclosure. Instead, it piques our interest and adds to the development of plot and character. Likewise, Amory’s relationship with her father informs her future relationships with men.
Boyd's narrative of Amory's life flickers with a vintage patina--just enough to distinguish the era. She’s not defined as a feminist or bohemian, but Amory was radiant, with dishy social skills and a fluid intellect; she didn’t capitulate to men in her work. She’s au courant with a touch of the droll, a hint of the Bacall, but not a mock-me-up stereotype. Amory is complex, with an agile, resourceful sensibility. Even during the years that she was stuck doing weddings or cheesy portraits, she continued to build her portfolio on the side.
In her love life, Amory made some unfortunate choices, but she was savvy—she didn’t bury her head in the sand when she carried on a long-term love affair with her married boss. Amory told the woman’s side of a man’s world, alight in the age of exclusion. She pushed through uncertainties and refused regrets. And her ardent ambitions and unconventional talent gave her entrance to notable events, such as The Maroon Street Riot, WWW II, and the Vietnam War. Her professional practice also led to a watershed effect in her personal life.
Peppered throughout the novel are Amory's black-and-white photographs, which authenticates and deepens her character, giving us glimpses of her work. (I would love to know where these photos are really from. Boyd's ancestors?)I just finished a book by Jane Urquhart, The Night Stages, where one of the quotes and themes was “the presence of the absence,” and, kismet! Here it happened again! Amory’s life began on its trajectory with the absences of her father, and it informed her artistry, which she pursued in her pictures. As she evolves, so does her artistic vision, imbued by the ripples in her life, her pursuit for the eternal moment.
"In my hands I had the power to stop time, or so I thought."
Boyd dodges boilerplate cliché by keeping it real He is obviously aware of books such as Marjorie Morningstar and The Dud Avocado, but SWEET CARESS doesn’t succumb to derivative mimicking. Amory is a singular woman written by a spirited writer.
I was swept up in Amory’s character, and the way she perceived and acted upon the world around her. By the end of this intoxicating story, I reckoned that history wouldn’t have been the same without her.
October 3, 2015
BABT
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06bncyg
Read by the lovely Barbara Flynn who you may remember from The Beiderbecke AffairDescription: In 1915, Amory's uncle unknowingly sets her life on its course when he gives her a Kodak Brownie No. 2 as a present for her seventh birthday, igniting a lifelong passion for photography. Her camera will take her from high society London in the 1920s to the cabaret clubs and brothels of inter-war Berlin; to 1930s New York, the Blackshirt riots in London's East End, and to France and Germany during the Second World War, where she becomes one of the first female war photographers.
She eventually comes to rest on a remote Scottish island, where she drinks, writes and looks back on a personal life that has been just as rich and complex as her professional one. She remembers the men that have been closest to her - her father, her brother, her lovers - irreparably scarred by two world wars, and reflects upon her own experiences of conflict and loss, passion and joy.
1/10: In 1915, Amory receives a camera from Uncle Greville for her birthday2/10: Amory goes to work for her Uncle, photographing high society events. 3/10: Amory heads to Berlin in search of scandal.4/10: Returning from Berlin and Amory's plans to scandalise prove all too succesful.5/10: Amory begins a new chapter, and a new relationship, in New York6/10: Amory learns the full consequences of the Maroon St Riot7/10: Amory receives terrible news and is forced to travel to France in search of answers8/10: Amory's life takes an unexpected turn after the handsome officer tracks her down in Paris9/10: Frustrated with life in Scotland Amory heads into the field once more10/10: As her health declines, Amory wonders whether she should carry on.
Of course I was going to love this: WB hits the spot again. No need to travel through this book with a note-pad and critical eye, just sit back and enjoy it in the way that really good fiction should be read. Just one pertinent observation, 'Sweet Caress' does follow the same-ish template as 'Any Human Heart' and if you liked that you will enjoy this.
Guardian review
5* Sweet Caress
4* Restless
5* Any Human Heart
TR Waiting for Sunrise
4* Ordinary Thunderstorms
4* Brazzaville Beach
2* Solo
3* Armadillo
3* A Haunting
February 4, 2016
What a whirlwind of a story, not sure if I love this book, but it's worth reading if only to get to know Amory Clay. What an alluring, intriguing character. She'll stay with me for a while...
Review to come...
August 26, 2015
Books that guide you through a whole life can be magical.
I know that William Boyd has written that kind of book before and I’ve read his books before I’ve not read any that have been journeys right through lives. I’ve meant to, because I’ve read good things about them, but because I’ve liked some of his books more than others they’ve never quite come to the top of my reading queue.
Until now.
I found much to appreciate in the stories that Amory Clay had to tell, reaching back from the late seventies to childhood when the twentieth century was still quite young, but I also found that some things were missing.
When Amory was seven, her uncle Greville, a society photographer, gave her camera, a Kodak Brownie. He showed her how to use it, and she was captivated. Her father had been her hero, but her was damaged by his experiences in the Great War and he let her down. That would shape her outlook on life, and her relationships with men.
Amory wanted to establish herself as a photographer and her uncle took her under his wing. She began by photographing socialites for the magazine Beau Monde. But a misjudgement has consequences and she escapes to Berlin, where she will take pictures of the demi monde of the late 20s. Back in London those pictures cause a sensation, but soon she needs another escape, and that leads her to 1930s.
Over the years she will photograph the Blackshirt riots in London, France during the Second World War, the Vietnam War, and an alternative community founded by those who opposed that war in 70s California.
Amory had a happy knack of being present at defining moments of modern history, but it is to William Boyd’s great credit that his story doesn’t feel contrived; Amory’s life was shaped by her own initiative, and by a few mistakes along the way.
It helped that the author clearly had a depth of knowledge of all of the history that Amory’s life touched. The story is episodic, as Amory looks back at significant parts of her life, and in every episode the world was so well evoked, the details were so well done, that I never doubted that Amory lived and breathed there, and that the author might, if he chose, extend every episode into a much longer piece.
The history is wonderful, but the book is at its strongest when Amory is involved with her family. Maybe because this is her story, because those relationships shape her, and it’s only then is her story feels entirely hers.
She’s a fascinating character, Amory Clay. Life taught her to be self-reliant, and she was. She made mistakes but she gained wisdom and I loved watching her operate; she was bright, she was complex, and she had all of the social skills she needed to move forward as a woman in what was very much a man’s world.
I appreciated that, in a world that sees full of fictional retellings of real lives lived, Amory is a proper fictional character. Clearly her life story is informed by lives of real 20th century women photographers, but I couldn’t tie it any more closely than that.
I was disappointed though that, as she told her story, she often seemed quite guarded; I appreciated that she was restrained, and in any places her understatement was wonderfully telling, but I often found myself wanting to feel a little more emotionally engaged.
I had to think that this was a life story told because she wanted to leave a clear record of the facts; rather than a story told because she wanted others to understand who she had been, and why she had done the things she had done.
I could understand that. I could accept it. I just would have liked to understand a little more of what made her want to become a photographer, and what made her define herself as a photographer throughout the course of her life.
I loved what I found in this book, I’ve very glad that I read it, and my only wish is that it had told me a little more that it did.
As it stands I’d say it’s a very good book, but not quite as magical as it might have been.
I know that William Boyd has written that kind of book before and I’ve read his books before I’ve not read any that have been journeys right through lives. I’ve meant to, because I’ve read good things about them, but because I’ve liked some of his books more than others they’ve never quite come to the top of my reading queue.
Until now.
I found much to appreciate in the stories that Amory Clay had to tell, reaching back from the late seventies to childhood when the twentieth century was still quite young, but I also found that some things were missing.
When Amory was seven, her uncle Greville, a society photographer, gave her camera, a Kodak Brownie. He showed her how to use it, and she was captivated. Her father had been her hero, but her was damaged by his experiences in the Great War and he let her down. That would shape her outlook on life, and her relationships with men.
Amory wanted to establish herself as a photographer and her uncle took her under his wing. She began by photographing socialites for the magazine Beau Monde. But a misjudgement has consequences and she escapes to Berlin, where she will take pictures of the demi monde of the late 20s. Back in London those pictures cause a sensation, but soon she needs another escape, and that leads her to 1930s.
Over the years she will photograph the Blackshirt riots in London, France during the Second World War, the Vietnam War, and an alternative community founded by those who opposed that war in 70s California.
Amory had a happy knack of being present at defining moments of modern history, but it is to William Boyd’s great credit that his story doesn’t feel contrived; Amory’s life was shaped by her own initiative, and by a few mistakes along the way.
It helped that the author clearly had a depth of knowledge of all of the history that Amory’s life touched. The story is episodic, as Amory looks back at significant parts of her life, and in every episode the world was so well evoked, the details were so well done, that I never doubted that Amory lived and breathed there, and that the author might, if he chose, extend every episode into a much longer piece.
The history is wonderful, but the book is at its strongest when Amory is involved with her family. Maybe because this is her story, because those relationships shape her, and it’s only then is her story feels entirely hers.
She’s a fascinating character, Amory Clay. Life taught her to be self-reliant, and she was. She made mistakes but she gained wisdom and I loved watching her operate; she was bright, she was complex, and she had all of the social skills she needed to move forward as a woman in what was very much a man’s world.
I appreciated that, in a world that sees full of fictional retellings of real lives lived, Amory is a proper fictional character. Clearly her life story is informed by lives of real 20th century women photographers, but I couldn’t tie it any more closely than that.
I was disappointed though that, as she told her story, she often seemed quite guarded; I appreciated that she was restrained, and in any places her understatement was wonderfully telling, but I often found myself wanting to feel a little more emotionally engaged.
I had to think that this was a life story told because she wanted to leave a clear record of the facts; rather than a story told because she wanted others to understand who she had been, and why she had done the things she had done.
I could understand that. I could accept it. I just would have liked to understand a little more of what made her want to become a photographer, and what made her define herself as a photographer throughout the course of her life.
I loved what I found in this book, I’ve very glad that I read it, and my only wish is that it had told me a little more that it did.
As it stands I’d say it’s a very good book, but not quite as magical as it might have been.
June 21, 2016
This book is good, but the author's Any Human Heart is better.....and they are so darn similar.
In both you get the history of the 20th century, although not the same historical events. Historical facts are always correct!
In both you visit places all over the world. Here it is England and Scotland and Paris, as well as Provence, and Berlin and Basel, Switzerland, and Vietnam and the US. The essence of each locale as well as the historical events that took place in each are well documented.
In the other book we follow Logan. In this we follow Amory, a photographer. Both are sexually active. Her behavior and character make complete sense. We follow her through her entire life. We come to understand her. The choices she makes are completely logical given her experiences..... But here is the problem; no other character has such depth as Amory. No other character do we come to fully understand. The story is really just about one person, just Amory. I happen to agree with her views on how one's own I also agree with her views on life, taking chances and one's own death. There is a lot in this book I agree with, for example the long lasting effects of war on the people that live through wars. You think when the peace treaties are signed the war is over.....but it is not so! Repercussions play out for decades.
There is nothing wrong with the book, but it simply is not a new story from Boyd. I wanted something different, something new.
I did not like the narration at all. As usual this does not influence my rating. Jilly Bond narrates the audiobook. If you like dramatizations then you will love it. I want to listen to the words and form my own opinion on the each respective character's personality. I don't want this to be spelled out to me through intonations. There are Scots and English and French and Americans and Australians. The dialects are sometimes ridiculously exaggerated and other times quite simply wrong. Bond had me giggling when I wasn't supposed to be. In my view the narration gets in the way of absorbing the written lines.
In both you get the history of the 20th century, although not the same historical events. Historical facts are always correct!
In both you visit places all over the world. Here it is England and Scotland and Paris, as well as Provence, and Berlin and Basel, Switzerland, and Vietnam and the US. The essence of each locale as well as the historical events that took place in each are well documented.
In the other book we follow Logan. In this we follow Amory, a photographer. Both are sexually active. Her behavior and character make complete sense. We follow her through her entire life. We come to understand her. The choices she makes are completely logical given her experiences..... But here is the problem; no other character has such depth as Amory. No other character do we come to fully understand. The story is really just about one person, just Amory. I happen to agree with her views on how one's own I also agree with her views on life, taking chances and one's own death. There is a lot in this book I agree with, for example the long lasting effects of war on the people that live through wars. You think when the peace treaties are signed the war is over.....but it is not so! Repercussions play out for decades.
There is nothing wrong with the book, but it simply is not a new story from Boyd. I wanted something different, something new.
I did not like the narration at all. As usual this does not influence my rating. Jilly Bond narrates the audiobook. If you like dramatizations then you will love it. I want to listen to the words and form my own opinion on the each respective character's personality. I don't want this to be spelled out to me through intonations. There are Scots and English and French and Americans and Australians. The dialects are sometimes ridiculously exaggerated and other times quite simply wrong. Bond had me giggling when I wasn't supposed to be. In my view the narration gets in the way of absorbing the written lines.
October 18, 2015
What I don’t understand is why all the newspapers have been unanimous in praising this book. All friends together maybe? This book clearly isn’t one of Boyd’s best – in fact it’s really very poor indeed – so why the cronyism? Thank goodness for Amanda Craig in the Independent - she at least had the courage to tell it like it is. I have no objection to anyone reading this book, enjoying it and writing a positive review. It’s simply a matter of personal taste. But I am suspicious when otherwise intelligent newspaper reviewers praise a book which is so poorly written and conceived. Be that as it may, I found the book pretty much unreadable. The main character, Amory Clay is unconvincing as a woman and as a photographer, and the rather grainy snaps Boyd has included in the text do nothing to convince me of her skill. And contrary to what Boyd might like to believe, I agree with Amanda Craig – women don’t take notes on and remember their lovers’ penises. That’s a male fantasy, which adds a certain distastefulness to this already flawed novel. As other reviewers have pointed out, there are also historical mistakes in the book, which suggest that it hasn’t been properly edited. Perhaps Boyd feels he doesn’t need editing. This book is dull, lazily written and superficial. Disappointing.
May 15, 2015
William Boyd's latest novel advertises itself as 'the story of a woman - the story of a century'; the subtitle is 'The Many Lives of Amory Clay'. From the moment I first heard about it, I instinctively wanted to describe it as 'the female-focused version of Any Human Heart', and with that book prominently mentioned in the marketing copy, it seems the publishers are intending to push it in a similar way. Like Any Human Heart, it is the life story of one character - in this case, the photographer Amory Clay - and it's told in first person. Amory, now in her late sixties, is writing her life story. Chapters from this are intersected by journal extracts charting her current life (living in a cottage in the Highlands in the late 1970s) and the progress of this biographical project.
As the blurb promises, Amory's unusual career takes her from private school to working as a photographer of London's society darlings; to debauched clubs in 1920s Berlin; to a career at an American magazine, based in New York, as WWII starts. She later becomes a war photographer, marries a man she meets in a decimated French village, and spends some time in Vietnam. Her life is often touched by tragedy and yet not defined by it.
At the end, though, I felt a bit deflated; for someone's life story, it all seems so thin. Perhaps it doesn't help that the book is dominated by Amory's adventures in war photography; in comparison, frustratingly small amounts of the narrative are devoted to the fascinating settings of 1920s Berlin and 1930s New York. It's certainly not that Amory's life doesn't make for interesting fiction, it's just that none of it seems substantial enough somehow? Amory just didn't come to life for me, didn't seem like a real tangible human being in the way Logan Mountstuart did. I felt her character was always painted in broad strokes; the narrative didn't seem to get into the nitty-gritty of what made her her.
This was a perfectly nice, diverting holiday read which kept me occupied for most of a plane journey, but outside that context/my prior knowledge of the author ( Armadillo also being a favourite from years ago) I'm not sure I'd even have stuck with it. I'm self-consciously aware I'm writing the first Goodreads review of this book, and I wish it could be more positive, but I'm sure plenty will find it more captivating than I did.
As the blurb promises, Amory's unusual career takes her from private school to working as a photographer of London's society darlings; to debauched clubs in 1920s Berlin; to a career at an American magazine, based in New York, as WWII starts. She later becomes a war photographer, marries a man she meets in a decimated French village, and spends some time in Vietnam. Her life is often touched by tragedy and yet not defined by it.
At the end, though, I felt a bit deflated; for someone's life story, it all seems so thin. Perhaps it doesn't help that the book is dominated by Amory's adventures in war photography; in comparison, frustratingly small amounts of the narrative are devoted to the fascinating settings of 1920s Berlin and 1930s New York. It's certainly not that Amory's life doesn't make for interesting fiction, it's just that none of it seems substantial enough somehow? Amory just didn't come to life for me, didn't seem like a real tangible human being in the way Logan Mountstuart did. I felt her character was always painted in broad strokes; the narrative didn't seem to get into the nitty-gritty of what made her her.
This was a perfectly nice, diverting holiday read which kept me occupied for most of a plane journey, but outside that context/my prior knowledge of the author ( Armadillo also being a favourite from years ago) I'm not sure I'd even have stuck with it. I'm self-consciously aware I'm writing the first Goodreads review of this book, and I wish it could be more positive, but I'm sure plenty will find it more captivating than I did.
November 22, 2020
Diesen Roman habe ich letztes Jahr einer guten Freundin geschenkt, sie war total begeistert von der Geschichte und hat ihn mir vor Monaten geborgt, weil ich das auch unbedingt lesen müsste.
Da ich selbst aber keinerlei Interesse für Fotografie hege, habe ich mir gedacht, dass das kein Buch für mich sei...weit gefehlt...es war umwerfend!
Eigentlich habe ich es jetzt nur begonnen, weil es schon so peinlich lang bei mir zuhause herumlag und ich es endlich zurückgeben wollte, aber jetzt überlege ich, ob ich mir nicht selbst ein Exemplar kaufen soll, denn es war eines der besten Bücher, die ich 2020 gelesen habe.
Die Geschichte der Amory Clay ist so wundervoll erzählt, es gibt mehrere Zeitebenen, die aber keineswegs verwirrend sind, sondern harmonisch ineinandergreifen und sich toll ergänzen. Ihr Leben ist spannend, abwechslungsreich und gespickt mit zahlreichen faszinierende Figuren.
Ich musste mich immer wieder regelreicht von der Geschichte losreißen und hätte mir gewünscht, noch mehr Zeit mit Amory verbringen zu können.
Da ich selbst aber keinerlei Interesse für Fotografie hege, habe ich mir gedacht, dass das kein Buch für mich sei...weit gefehlt...es war umwerfend!
Eigentlich habe ich es jetzt nur begonnen, weil es schon so peinlich lang bei mir zuhause herumlag und ich es endlich zurückgeben wollte, aber jetzt überlege ich, ob ich mir nicht selbst ein Exemplar kaufen soll, denn es war eines der besten Bücher, die ich 2020 gelesen habe.
Die Geschichte der Amory Clay ist so wundervoll erzählt, es gibt mehrere Zeitebenen, die aber keineswegs verwirrend sind, sondern harmonisch ineinandergreifen und sich toll ergänzen. Ihr Leben ist spannend, abwechslungsreich und gespickt mit zahlreichen faszinierende Figuren.
Ich musste mich immer wieder regelreicht von der Geschichte losreißen und hätte mir gewünscht, noch mehr Zeit mit Amory verbringen zu können.
December 11, 2022
They drink so much in this book, I can hardly fathom how they cope, let alone carry on with everyday’s chores
October 6, 2015
Nope, didn't get it. I read the whole long thing thinking 'any minute now I'm gonna get it'...but I never did. I didn't relate, like or even believe in Amory Clay and I didn't give a stuff about her either really. I only persevered because by the time I realised how unutterably bored I was I figured I might as well finish. Dreary dreary dreary.
January 29, 2023
Ich habe mich beim Lesen dieses Buches immer wieder gefragt wie ich es vor 15-20 Jahren wohl rezipiert hätte. Wahrscheinlich hätte ich es toll gefunden. Ein Buch mit einer “starken” (wie sehr mir dieses Wording mittlerweile auf den Keks geht, aber so wird's natürlich auch am Einband beschrieben) Frau als Erzählerin, die den gleichen Beruf ausübt wie ich und autobiografisch erzählt (wenn auch fiktiv in diesem Fall).
Zum Glück kann ich mittlerweile unterscheiden, dass das in den Vordergrund stellen von weiblichen Figuren (sei es in Büchern oder Filmen/Serien) nicht automatisch zu einer feministischen Erzählung führen muss. Die Erzählerin und Hauptfigur des Buches, Amory Clay ist Fotografin und erzählt ihr Leben rückblickend, beginnend kurz nach dem 1. Weltkrieg bis in die späten 1970er Jahre hinein. Dass sie in eine Zeit geboren wird, in der Sexismus, v.a. in der Berufswelt noch stärker ausgeprägt war als heute (und seien wir uns ehrlich, wir haben das Patriarchat noch lange nicht überwunden) ist nun mal das Korsett dieser Erzählung. Soweit, so neutral. Aber es stellt mir einfach die Haare auf, wenn Situationen in denen ganz klar eine Form des sexuellen Übegriffs dargestellt werden, von der Erzählerin relativiert werden bzw. sogar jedes Mal zu “einer stärkeren Bindung” und mehr “Tiefe und Vertrautheit” zwischen den betroffenen Personen führen.
Richtig ekelhaft fand ich auch den Teil zu Beginn des Buches in dem die 19jährige Amory, die schon seit Jahren in ihren Onkel verliebt ist, einen Annäherungsversuch bei ihm unternimmt. Sie zieht ihr sexiestes Nachtkleid an und legt sich zu ihm ins Bett in der Hoffnung von ihm entjungfert zu werden. Der Onkel wehrt ab, der Hauptgrund liegt aber nicht darin, dass er ihr Onkel ist, nein er fühlt sich eben nicht zu Frauen hingezogen. Na dann. Ich glaube (hoffe), dass eine Frau so einen Text nicht geschrieben hätte. So oft dachte ich mir: “Altmännerfantasie”.
Der Onkel rät ihr übrigens sich an seinen Assistenten zu wenden diesbezüglich, der sei eh in sie verliebt. Die darauffolgende Erzählung ihrer Entjungferung ist so entsetzlich grässlich passiv. Sie lässt halt geschehen, damit sie es hinter sich hat quasi. Ja, die beiden führen dann eine längere Liebesbeziehung, aber sie hat ihn erst mal zum regelmäßgen duschen erziehen müssen, kümmert sich um saubere Hemden bei ihm und überzieht bevor sie mit ihm schläft immer sein Bett neu, weil es so eklig versifft ist. Und das wird alles dargestellt als wäre das völlig ok so. So sind sie halt die Männer. Und die Frauen.
Dazu dann Sätze wie dieser auf Seite 194: “Es war Brunftzeit, und im Revier streifte noch ein anderer Bulle umher. In bestimmen Situationen, vor allem wenn es um Sex und gegenseitige Anziehung geht, davon bin ich überzeugt, wird unser Verhalten nach wie vor von uralten, tief in unserem Inneren verankerten Steinzeitinstinkten geprägt, ohne das unser Hirn davon irgendwie beteiligt wäre.” Denkt euch hier bitte das Kotz-Emoji anstelle dieses Satzes.
Sex und Anziehung hat natürlich auch ganz viel mit Körpern zu tun in diesem Buch. Die werden ausgiebig beschrieben und alle Klischees die man irgendwie bedienen kann werden auch bedient. In dieser grandiosen Folge ihres Podcasts “sexy & bodenständig” reden Alena Schröder und Till Raether über Körper und thematisieren unter anderem, dass die Beschreibung von Körpern oft mehr über den*die Protagonist*in erzählt als über die Person deren Körper beschrieben wird. Daran musste ich beim Lesen oft denken.
Wie oft Boyd ausserdem die Penisse der Liebhaber Amory’s beschreibt. Ich hab noch keine Frau* getroffen, die nach einem sexuellen Erlebnis mit einem Penisträger diesen dann in der Erzählung darüber in den Vordergrund stellen würde. Ja, Penisse existieren und sie sind durchaus auch super, aber, kleiner Gruß an alle Lesenden mit Penis hier: Sie sind bei weitem nicht so wichtig wie ihr glaubt.
Formal fand ich den Roman außerdem zu krampfhaft aufgebaut. Boyd verwendet found footage Fotos, zu deren Urheberin er seine Erzählerin macht. Mich stört daran einiges. Zum einen, dass er damit die Bilder, die beim Lesen im Kopf entstehen kaputt macht. Zum anderen, dass die allermeisten Bilder so klar als Amateurfotos erkennbar sind, was die gesamte “ich bin so eine außergewöhnliche Fotografin mit so viel Talent” Story untergräbt. Und um Stimmung und Zeitgeist zu vermitteln braucht es einfach mehr als ein paar schlechte Fotos und das regelmäßige Erwähnen irgendwelcher historischen Ereignisse oder Referenzen zu Personen/Büchern/Filmen die in den jeweiligen Perioden gerade bekannt waren.
Ein verwendetes Foto fand ich außerdem besonders fragwürdig. Es handelt sich um einen toten Soldaten aus dem 2. Weltkrieg, der mit völlig zerschmettertem Kopf abgebildet ist. Ich sehe wirklich keine Notwendigkeit zur fotografischen Darstellung von Kriegsgräueln in diesem Kontext.
Zusammenfassend denke ich zwar, dass Männer bzw. männlich sozialisierte Personen zwar über Frauen/weiblich sozialisierte Personen schreiben dürfen, aber ob die Sicht aus der 1. Person dafür die geeigneteste Erzählweise ist, mag ich bezweifeln. Am Buchmarkt überwiegen leider immer noch Bücher von Männern* und so oft hab ich mich in meinem Heranwachsen mit den Frauen* in deren Werken identifiziert ohne dabei das Geschlecht des Schriftstellers und dementsprechend dessen Blick auf die Welt miteinzubeziehen und mich dabei selbst mit patriarchalen Erzähl- und Denkmustern identfiziert.
Zum Glück kann ich mittlerweile unterscheiden, dass das in den Vordergrund stellen von weiblichen Figuren (sei es in Büchern oder Filmen/Serien) nicht automatisch zu einer feministischen Erzählung führen muss. Die Erzählerin und Hauptfigur des Buches, Amory Clay ist Fotografin und erzählt ihr Leben rückblickend, beginnend kurz nach dem 1. Weltkrieg bis in die späten 1970er Jahre hinein. Dass sie in eine Zeit geboren wird, in der Sexismus, v.a. in der Berufswelt noch stärker ausgeprägt war als heute (und seien wir uns ehrlich, wir haben das Patriarchat noch lange nicht überwunden) ist nun mal das Korsett dieser Erzählung. Soweit, so neutral. Aber es stellt mir einfach die Haare auf, wenn Situationen in denen ganz klar eine Form des sexuellen Übegriffs dargestellt werden, von der Erzählerin relativiert werden bzw. sogar jedes Mal zu “einer stärkeren Bindung” und mehr “Tiefe und Vertrautheit” zwischen den betroffenen Personen führen.
Richtig ekelhaft fand ich auch den Teil zu Beginn des Buches in dem die 19jährige Amory, die schon seit Jahren in ihren Onkel verliebt ist, einen Annäherungsversuch bei ihm unternimmt. Sie zieht ihr sexiestes Nachtkleid an und legt sich zu ihm ins Bett in der Hoffnung von ihm entjungfert zu werden. Der Onkel wehrt ab, der Hauptgrund liegt aber nicht darin, dass er ihr Onkel ist, nein er fühlt sich eben nicht zu Frauen hingezogen. Na dann. Ich glaube (hoffe), dass eine Frau so einen Text nicht geschrieben hätte. So oft dachte ich mir: “Altmännerfantasie”.
Der Onkel rät ihr übrigens sich an seinen Assistenten zu wenden diesbezüglich, der sei eh in sie verliebt. Die darauffolgende Erzählung ihrer Entjungferung ist so entsetzlich grässlich passiv. Sie lässt halt geschehen, damit sie es hinter sich hat quasi. Ja, die beiden führen dann eine längere Liebesbeziehung, aber sie hat ihn erst mal zum regelmäßgen duschen erziehen müssen, kümmert sich um saubere Hemden bei ihm und überzieht bevor sie mit ihm schläft immer sein Bett neu, weil es so eklig versifft ist. Und das wird alles dargestellt als wäre das völlig ok so. So sind sie halt die Männer. Und die Frauen.
Dazu dann Sätze wie dieser auf Seite 194: “Es war Brunftzeit, und im Revier streifte noch ein anderer Bulle umher. In bestimmen Situationen, vor allem wenn es um Sex und gegenseitige Anziehung geht, davon bin ich überzeugt, wird unser Verhalten nach wie vor von uralten, tief in unserem Inneren verankerten Steinzeitinstinkten geprägt, ohne das unser Hirn davon irgendwie beteiligt wäre.” Denkt euch hier bitte das Kotz-Emoji anstelle dieses Satzes.
Sex und Anziehung hat natürlich auch ganz viel mit Körpern zu tun in diesem Buch. Die werden ausgiebig beschrieben und alle Klischees die man irgendwie bedienen kann werden auch bedient. In dieser grandiosen Folge ihres Podcasts “sexy & bodenständig” reden Alena Schröder und Till Raether über Körper und thematisieren unter anderem, dass die Beschreibung von Körpern oft mehr über den*die Protagonist*in erzählt als über die Person deren Körper beschrieben wird. Daran musste ich beim Lesen oft denken.
Wie oft Boyd ausserdem die Penisse der Liebhaber Amory’s beschreibt. Ich hab noch keine Frau* getroffen, die nach einem sexuellen Erlebnis mit einem Penisträger diesen dann in der Erzählung darüber in den Vordergrund stellen würde. Ja, Penisse existieren und sie sind durchaus auch super, aber, kleiner Gruß an alle Lesenden mit Penis hier: Sie sind bei weitem nicht so wichtig wie ihr glaubt.
Formal fand ich den Roman außerdem zu krampfhaft aufgebaut. Boyd verwendet found footage Fotos, zu deren Urheberin er seine Erzählerin macht. Mich stört daran einiges. Zum einen, dass er damit die Bilder, die beim Lesen im Kopf entstehen kaputt macht. Zum anderen, dass die allermeisten Bilder so klar als Amateurfotos erkennbar sind, was die gesamte “ich bin so eine außergewöhnliche Fotografin mit so viel Talent” Story untergräbt. Und um Stimmung und Zeitgeist zu vermitteln braucht es einfach mehr als ein paar schlechte Fotos und das regelmäßige Erwähnen irgendwelcher historischen Ereignisse oder Referenzen zu Personen/Büchern/Filmen die in den jeweiligen Perioden gerade bekannt waren.
Ein verwendetes Foto fand ich außerdem besonders fragwürdig. Es handelt sich um einen toten Soldaten aus dem 2. Weltkrieg, der mit völlig zerschmettertem Kopf abgebildet ist. Ich sehe wirklich keine Notwendigkeit zur fotografischen Darstellung von Kriegsgräueln in diesem Kontext.
Zusammenfassend denke ich zwar, dass Männer bzw. männlich sozialisierte Personen zwar über Frauen/weiblich sozialisierte Personen schreiben dürfen, aber ob die Sicht aus der 1. Person dafür die geeigneteste Erzählweise ist, mag ich bezweifeln. Am Buchmarkt überwiegen leider immer noch Bücher von Männern* und so oft hab ich mich in meinem Heranwachsen mit den Frauen* in deren Werken identifiziert ohne dabei das Geschlecht des Schriftstellers und dementsprechend dessen Blick auf die Welt miteinzubeziehen und mich dabei selbst mit patriarchalen Erzähl- und Denkmustern identfiziert.
October 27, 2016
A truly great book. A wonderful read, so beautifully written it just flowed across the pages.
The author was so in tune with the main protagonist, one could think it was written by a woman.
Although Amory is a fictional character, the combination with real facts makes it feel like a biography. It's quite amazing that these young female journalists and photographers managed to travel to war zones, during this era, in a very male dominated environment.
I did feel some of the middle years, age 40- 50s was a little rushed, but loved the ending. I highly recommend this book.
The author was so in tune with the main protagonist, one could think it was written by a woman.
Although Amory is a fictional character, the combination with real facts makes it feel like a biography. It's quite amazing that these young female journalists and photographers managed to travel to war zones, during this era, in a very male dominated environment.
I did feel some of the middle years, age 40- 50s was a little rushed, but loved the ending. I highly recommend this book.
December 24, 2015
Let me just say that by the time I was gulping down the end of this novel, I was completely convinced that Amory Clay was a real person. So convincing and full bodied, even if the inclusion of so many real life incidents and people did sometimes feel a little forced.
I loved the inclusion of black and white photos throughout and the overall theme of the ravages of war. Mostly, I ended up loving Amory and I'm afraid I'll miss her.
I loved the inclusion of black and white photos throughout and the overall theme of the ravages of war. Mostly, I ended up loving Amory and I'm afraid I'll miss her.
June 15, 2018
2. Anlauf bei diesem Buch und leider hats nicht gefunkt. Das erste Drittel fand ich ganz okay, danach war es für mich träge und zog sich extrem.
November 27, 2015
Amory Clay is the female protagonist in Sweet Caress. The story is told in the first person. Amory, now in her late sixties is writing her life story. Chapters in the book also contain journal extracts charting her current life and how this biographical project progresses. Though the book reads like a memoir, it is a novel.
The beginning of the book I felt to be very strong and I was pulled into the story. It tells of Amory’s early family life and time in a boarding school. Since her father was often absent Amory does not have very many memories of him, he was away fighting in WWII. Her uncle Greville was an important figure in her life and instilled in her the love of photography.
She begins her career working for him in London. She then moves on to 1920’s Berlin, a career at an American magazine based in New York and later a war photographer.
She has several relationships before marrying and having two children only to return to war time photography in Vietnam. There are photos from her work included in the book.
I’m not quite sure why but I just seemed to lose interest in the story. There were lots and lots of facts and information but I just never felt as though I got a complete picture of who she really was, rather more a history of what she did. There didn’t seem to be a lot of real emotion in the book.
I found myself skipping ahead more and more to come to the conclusion.
I really enjoyed “Any Human Heart” and perhaps because this was billed as the female equivalent to that novel that I was just left feeling disappointed.
The beginning of the book I felt to be very strong and I was pulled into the story. It tells of Amory’s early family life and time in a boarding school. Since her father was often absent Amory does not have very many memories of him, he was away fighting in WWII. Her uncle Greville was an important figure in her life and instilled in her the love of photography.
She begins her career working for him in London. She then moves on to 1920’s Berlin, a career at an American magazine based in New York and later a war photographer.
She has several relationships before marrying and having two children only to return to war time photography in Vietnam. There are photos from her work included in the book.
I’m not quite sure why but I just seemed to lose interest in the story. There were lots and lots of facts and information but I just never felt as though I got a complete picture of who she really was, rather more a history of what she did. There didn’t seem to be a lot of real emotion in the book.
I found myself skipping ahead more and more to come to the conclusion.
I really enjoyed “Any Human Heart” and perhaps because this was billed as the female equivalent to that novel that I was just left feeling disappointed.
March 15, 2020
Gal photographer sashays through the 20th Century - fitting in Weimar Berlin, Mosleys blackshirts, WW2 and Vietnam. Has affairs with married men. Settles down on Scottish estate. Produces two children. Dies.
Boyd does this type of story very well. I found myself turning just another page, then another, until before you know it it is 1AM, and work later.
Worth a read - though he has done better
Boyd does this type of story very well. I found myself turning just another page, then another, until before you know it it is 1AM, and work later.
Worth a read - though he has done better
September 21, 2019
Biografija izmišljenog lika je nešto što Bojd voli da piše. Any Human Heart je bio odličan. Napisan u formi dnevnika, prati život pisca koji prolazi kroz bitne događaje 20. veka, usput sreće Hemingveja, Pikasa, Vulfovu... Ovde je recept isti, s tim da se družimo sa fotografkinjom. I s tim da je ovaj put sve poprilično prosečno i obično.
Pitanje je, da li se promenio pisac ili čitalac?
Pitanje je, da li se promenio pisac ili čitalac?
March 14, 2020
William Boyd is a wonderful storyteller and one of my favourite authors as he sets scenes, and recreates time and place, so effortlessly. You really feel that you know his characters and understand their personalities, and the predicaments they face, and so you understand the choices they make.
Amory Clay is a complex individual, but aren’t we all ! And that is surely the thread running through every Boyd novel - the uniqueness and similarities present in every one of us make us all inconsistent, contrary and complex. Amory has endured a difficult childhood because of the awkwardness, and occasional toxic environment at home, owing to the erratic behaviour of her father following his traumatic experiences in World War One.
After school and an awkward infatuation with her gay Uncle Grevill - 'You've got a hell of a lot to learn, my dear' - but Amory isn't forlorn for long but up and away, because having learned the art of photography she has life beckoning. She takes a good picture and this artistic skill helps open doors, even if some are immediately shut by the risqué content of much of her first exhibition. After one or two false dawns, and thanks to some lucky breaks, her career eventually flourishes. Assignments take her to Berlin, and then to Greenwich Village, New York, where she is alive to the excitements and possibilities during the 'Roaring Twenties' and the Jazz Age , and then when World War Two breaks out she becomes a war photographer, against all the odds she is found in London, living in the Kings Road Chelsea, first covering the Oswald Mosely Blackshirt Riots, and then during the Blitz, and then on the eve D-Day, before joining the Allied Forces advancing across Northern Europe. She is then parachuting with US marines out of helicopters in Vietnam, camera always at the ready, and snapping some iconic shots that will bring her handsome remuneration and front page scoops.
Now with Amory Clay, as previously with Logan Mountstuart, the author describes a life well lived, and a life lived to the full as photographer, we follow her passage from peacetime to war zones, looking for love and artistic expression. And along the way there are the inevitable lovers and husbands, as Amory loves, loses and loves some more. A wife, a mother, a lover and a mistress, Amory ticks every box and compares her lovers, size and sexual energy, but does so in a wonderfully matter of fact manner, as a whimsical aside to the reader. Here the reader wonders whether William Boyd reveals his own philosophy on love and intimacy, as he says in the final paragraphs when he writes,
‘ The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews, as the poet says: not to be born is the best for man – only that way can you avoid all of life‘s complications.’
Amory Clay is a complex individual, but aren’t we all ! And that is surely the thread running through every Boyd novel - the uniqueness and similarities present in every one of us make us all inconsistent, contrary and complex. Amory has endured a difficult childhood because of the awkwardness, and occasional toxic environment at home, owing to the erratic behaviour of her father following his traumatic experiences in World War One.
After school and an awkward infatuation with her gay Uncle Grevill - 'You've got a hell of a lot to learn, my dear' - but Amory isn't forlorn for long but up and away, because having learned the art of photography she has life beckoning. She takes a good picture and this artistic skill helps open doors, even if some are immediately shut by the risqué content of much of her first exhibition. After one or two false dawns, and thanks to some lucky breaks, her career eventually flourishes. Assignments take her to Berlin, and then to Greenwich Village, New York, where she is alive to the excitements and possibilities during the 'Roaring Twenties' and the Jazz Age , and then when World War Two breaks out she becomes a war photographer, against all the odds she is found in London, living in the Kings Road Chelsea, first covering the Oswald Mosely Blackshirt Riots, and then during the Blitz, and then on the eve D-Day, before joining the Allied Forces advancing across Northern Europe. She is then parachuting with US marines out of helicopters in Vietnam, camera always at the ready, and snapping some iconic shots that will bring her handsome remuneration and front page scoops.
Now with Amory Clay, as previously with Logan Mountstuart, the author describes a life well lived, and a life lived to the full as photographer, we follow her passage from peacetime to war zones, looking for love and artistic expression. And along the way there are the inevitable lovers and husbands, as Amory loves, loses and loves some more. A wife, a mother, a lover and a mistress, Amory ticks every box and compares her lovers, size and sexual energy, but does so in a wonderfully matter of fact manner, as a whimsical aside to the reader. Here the reader wonders whether William Boyd reveals his own philosophy on love and intimacy, as he says in the final paragraphs when he writes,
‘ The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews, as the poet says: not to be born is the best for man – only that way can you avoid all of life‘s complications.’
September 8, 2015
Sweet Caress is a multi-layered, richly confounding novel, the tale of a woman, Amory Clay, who lives life to the very fullest, to the very last moment (where you'll find a surprising twist). Boyd continually confronts reality in his novels, and in SWEET CARESS, continually reminds us that life is stranger than fiction, and fiction is stronger--and wider and deeper, more consistent and yet more contradictory--than life. Amory's voice is perfectly pitched (a nearly-insurmountable challenge for a male author) and her adventurous life as a photographer is always surprising, from the moment her father tries to kill her to her brushes with death in WW2 and Vietnam. The sweeping structure of the book is an achievement in itself and the journal entries that punctuate the text create a perfect time-frame for the whole. The photographs may be a little less satisfying than the prose for some readers, but I appreciated them as fragments of Boyd's compositional process, and fragments of Amory's remarkable efforts to compose--and to improvise--a life.
August 8, 2016
The Camera Cannot Lie
Earlier this year, I reviewed Boyd's 2002 novel Any Human Heart, one of several books he has written in what has clearly become a favorite form: tracing the life of a character over several decades, if not its entire span. I noted that the form itself seemed to have built-in problems, in that the density of a typical life, the pace at which one makes discoveries and takes risks, tends to thin out in the middle years, changing the feel of a whole-life novel from the heady thrust of its opening to a mere string of anecdotes near the end. I can't say that this doesn't happen to some extent in Boyd's latest, but I was surprised at how well he manages to minimize the problem. As well as giving many delights along the way.
First off, his protagonist this time is not a man at the center of things, like Logan Mountstuart in the earlier book—"writer, lover, art dealer, spy." Instead we have Amory Clay, a successful though not very famous photographer, whose profession places her on the edge of events, although she does all she can to approach as close as possible, as in the pictures of nightlife in Weimar-era Berlin that first brought her notoriety, and her brief stints in both WW2 and Vietnam. And yes, Amory is a woman. This avoids much of the self-assertive strutting you might get with a male hero, while at the same time giving a warm interior account of her romantic life—not numerically extensive, but certainly varied.
The structure of the book is also interesting. For the main, the story is told chronologically from about 1918 to 1980. But it keeps getting annotated by excerpts from the "Barrandale Journal," a diary that Amory began to keep in the late 1970's, now living in retirement with her dog in a cottage on an island in the Hebrides. This means that, even from the beginning, we do not see the late years as a period of inevitable decline, but as a solid backboard against which she can bounce the balls that ricochet from her earlier life, and toss them back into the fray. It also enables her to hint at things that will happen later, often a decade or more beyond the point we have reached in the main narrative, so that the structure is more a series of interlocked circles than a single line.
Then there are the photographs. You can't have a book about a photographer without photographs, right? But these puzzle me. For a start, all are badly reproduced, and few of them are any good. This is fine for childhood snaps, but her first solo portrait as a professional photographer, for instance, is marred by a horizontal in the background cutting right across the subject's hairline. In all, if you can imagine them properly printed, there are perhaps three photos in total (among sixty or more) which show a true photographer's eye: a picture of legs in fishnet stockings, a candid of a young GI in Vietnam holding a puppy, and a photo called "Confrontation" with which she is supposed to have won a big prize, whose framing, though quite bizarre, is also strikingly original. Admittedly, Boyd explains the poor quality of many of these snaps by one device or another, but I still wonder why he seems deliberately to have chosen such amateurish examples.
This raises in turn the question of authenticity. The photos are real, no question of it. They show normal situations: family holidays, wedding groups, balls. They also include several shots of war, though never the kind that appear in LIFE, and a few pictures of a mildly sexual nature. Somebody took these, and the people in them had names, had lives. I wonder if they, or the bulk of them, come from some Boyd family member, or perhaps a collection that the author stumbled upon at a sale. Clearly the person who took them was not a professional, but maybe the snaps triggered the author to ask what-if, making up a fictional career for a real person whose own life took a different turn. Or did he think of the story first, and then seek out photos from elsewhere to illustrate it?
The protagonist of Any Human Heart keeps on running into real figures such as Virginia Woolf, Hemingway, Picasso, Ian Fleming, and the Duke and Duchess of Windsor; the name-dropping in that one soon became tiring. Here, though, I kept looking up the minor characters but found that they were almost all fictitious. Even the places are made up, though utterly believable. True, there are a lot of real and famous people credited at the end, but few of them appear in their own right in the novel. Curiously, the first of them, the German author Hannelore Hahn, has the same name as the lesbian photographer in Berlin who befriended Amory, but a decade before the real Hannelore was born; I can only think that this was a "guest appearance" as a tribute to a good friend.
So what is the book actually about? Using a baseball metaphor picked up in Vietnam, Amory thinks: "Sometimes it seemed to me as if my life had been made up entirely of curveballs and unwelcome surprises." And indeed, she encounters a number of severe setbacks in the novel, both professional and personal. There is also a minor but recurrent theme of post-traumatic stress that affected men in her life who had suffered through war: her father in WW1, her husband in WW2, and others in Vietnam; she has also suffered her own stresses and even physical injuries. But the overall feeling of the book is one of resilience, hard-won contentment, even joy. Hence the novel's title and its epigraph (another piece of fake authenticity, as it is written by one of the fictional characters in the book!): "However long your stay on this small planet lasts, and whatever happens during it, the most important thing is that—from time to time—you feel life's sweet caress."
Earlier this year, I reviewed Boyd's 2002 novel Any Human Heart, one of several books he has written in what has clearly become a favorite form: tracing the life of a character over several decades, if not its entire span. I noted that the form itself seemed to have built-in problems, in that the density of a typical life, the pace at which one makes discoveries and takes risks, tends to thin out in the middle years, changing the feel of a whole-life novel from the heady thrust of its opening to a mere string of anecdotes near the end. I can't say that this doesn't happen to some extent in Boyd's latest, but I was surprised at how well he manages to minimize the problem. As well as giving many delights along the way.
First off, his protagonist this time is not a man at the center of things, like Logan Mountstuart in the earlier book—"writer, lover, art dealer, spy." Instead we have Amory Clay, a successful though not very famous photographer, whose profession places her on the edge of events, although she does all she can to approach as close as possible, as in the pictures of nightlife in Weimar-era Berlin that first brought her notoriety, and her brief stints in both WW2 and Vietnam. And yes, Amory is a woman. This avoids much of the self-assertive strutting you might get with a male hero, while at the same time giving a warm interior account of her romantic life—not numerically extensive, but certainly varied.
The structure of the book is also interesting. For the main, the story is told chronologically from about 1918 to 1980. But it keeps getting annotated by excerpts from the "Barrandale Journal," a diary that Amory began to keep in the late 1970's, now living in retirement with her dog in a cottage on an island in the Hebrides. This means that, even from the beginning, we do not see the late years as a period of inevitable decline, but as a solid backboard against which she can bounce the balls that ricochet from her earlier life, and toss them back into the fray. It also enables her to hint at things that will happen later, often a decade or more beyond the point we have reached in the main narrative, so that the structure is more a series of interlocked circles than a single line.
Then there are the photographs. You can't have a book about a photographer without photographs, right? But these puzzle me. For a start, all are badly reproduced, and few of them are any good. This is fine for childhood snaps, but her first solo portrait as a professional photographer, for instance, is marred by a horizontal in the background cutting right across the subject's hairline. In all, if you can imagine them properly printed, there are perhaps three photos in total (among sixty or more) which show a true photographer's eye: a picture of legs in fishnet stockings, a candid of a young GI in Vietnam holding a puppy, and a photo called "Confrontation" with which she is supposed to have won a big prize, whose framing, though quite bizarre, is also strikingly original. Admittedly, Boyd explains the poor quality of many of these snaps by one device or another, but I still wonder why he seems deliberately to have chosen such amateurish examples.
This raises in turn the question of authenticity. The photos are real, no question of it. They show normal situations: family holidays, wedding groups, balls. They also include several shots of war, though never the kind that appear in LIFE, and a few pictures of a mildly sexual nature. Somebody took these, and the people in them had names, had lives. I wonder if they, or the bulk of them, come from some Boyd family member, or perhaps a collection that the author stumbled upon at a sale. Clearly the person who took them was not a professional, but maybe the snaps triggered the author to ask what-if, making up a fictional career for a real person whose own life took a different turn. Or did he think of the story first, and then seek out photos from elsewhere to illustrate it?
The protagonist of Any Human Heart keeps on running into real figures such as Virginia Woolf, Hemingway, Picasso, Ian Fleming, and the Duke and Duchess of Windsor; the name-dropping in that one soon became tiring. Here, though, I kept looking up the minor characters but found that they were almost all fictitious. Even the places are made up, though utterly believable. True, there are a lot of real and famous people credited at the end, but few of them appear in their own right in the novel. Curiously, the first of them, the German author Hannelore Hahn, has the same name as the lesbian photographer in Berlin who befriended Amory, but a decade before the real Hannelore was born; I can only think that this was a "guest appearance" as a tribute to a good friend.
So what is the book actually about? Using a baseball metaphor picked up in Vietnam, Amory thinks: "Sometimes it seemed to me as if my life had been made up entirely of curveballs and unwelcome surprises." And indeed, she encounters a number of severe setbacks in the novel, both professional and personal. There is also a minor but recurrent theme of post-traumatic stress that affected men in her life who had suffered through war: her father in WW1, her husband in WW2, and others in Vietnam; she has also suffered her own stresses and even physical injuries. But the overall feeling of the book is one of resilience, hard-won contentment, even joy. Hence the novel's title and its epigraph (another piece of fake authenticity, as it is written by one of the fictional characters in the book!): "However long your stay on this small planet lasts, and whatever happens during it, the most important thing is that—from time to time—you feel life's sweet caress."
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