Above all, Berthe Morisot yearns to be a professional artist. Chafing under the tutelage of traditional masters, Berthe is mesmerized by Paris' most revolutionary artist, the debonair Édouard Manet, whose radical paintings reflect a brash modern style. Berthe consents to model for Édouard and in the process falls deeply in love, an affair that both must keep hidden from the world, for Édouard is married to another. As the city of Paris is convulsed by the Franco-Prussian war, and dark family secrets are revealed, the lovers are driven apart.
Berthe, after enduring the horrors of a city under siege and suffering from recurring depression, marries Édouard's brother, the mercurial Eugène Manet. Quiet married life is not for Berthe, however, and she—along with her infamous contemporaries, which include Degas, Cézanne, and Monet—develop the radical painting style that challenges the stifling traditionalism of the Impressionism.
If she were alive today, painter Berthe Morisot would be celebrated and admired, but in the 19th century Paris, she was up against formidable obstacles. Women were not allowed to pursue paying occupations, the prestigious Ecole des Beaux Arts did not accept female students, the society treated "lady painters" as odd (if they were rich) or as little more than prostitutes (if they were not), and parents - if they allowed girls to take private painting lessons at all - did so only because it would boost their marriage prospects.
Paula Butterfield's novel La Luministe paints a portrait of one of the pioneering female artists. How important and overdue this is was made clear to me when, reading the book, I realized that Berthe Morisot was not just a gifted artist. Her work was groundbreaking, putting her among the most influential Impressionists. Yet, she was never mentioned in the art history survey course I took in college. We have all heard of Manet, Renoir, Cezanne, Degas, and many other male Impressionists, but apparently one has to be enrolled in an advanced course to learn about Morisot.
And yet she had a vision that she pursued consistently for decades despite having to endure condescending and dismissive attitudes. She was one of the first painters to explore the idea of light and its effects on composition. It seems obvious to us now, but in the middle of the 19th century, that was a revolutionary idea. As the author explains, earlier painters - including the Masters like Titian and Goya - worked indoors. Bringing the easel out of the studio and to a seaside promenade or to a garden in full bloom was what enabled Berthe Morisot to capture the fleeting moments of the sun striking the water or a child's smile as she played with her doll.
Paula Butterfield takes care to weave the personal with the artistic. Her expert knowledge of art helps us place Berthe's style in a larger context the better to understand its innovative nature: she wanted to utilize brighter, metallic paints where the Masters had been limited to earthy ochres and umbers. And she wanted to capture the intimate and the everyday rather than imitating the classical heroic themes of which the Academy was so fond. Morisot chose modernity over antique inspirations, and none of it was helpful in launching her career and gaining the respect of fellow artists. But she persisted nonetheless.
The novel also highlights her artistically fruitful but personally complicated relationship with Edouard Manet. Their styles influenced each other. Inspired by her, Manet started painting outdoors, with a light palette and feathery strokes, and Morisot was emboldened by his rebelliousness and rule-breaking. She also modeled for Manet for several years, falling, like many other women, under the spell of the notoriously dissolute artist. The fact that she eventually became his sister-in-law adds another level of nuance to her story.
In Berthe Morisot's social milieu, marriage was a woman's ticket to respectability, financial security, and - irrespective of her age - adulthood. Fiercely dedicated to art and deeply independent, she resisted the attempts to marry her off for as long as she could, eventually settling for Edouard's younger, more volatile, and less accomplished brother, Eugene Manet.
To give a sense of why she had to do it, consider that when Berthe was invited to join an independent artists' cooperative by none other than Edgar Degas, she needed to secure her father's permission (she was in her thirties by then). She failed to do so because Edme Morisot considered the idea unseemly; it was only after his death that she was able to join the group and exhibit with them, saying "I no longer felt compunction about breaking Papa's rules. Letting go of limitations was becoming easier for me." It was a move that helped propel her to a recognition few female painters had achieved before.
Marriage and the relationship with her parents were not the only bonds that were strained due to Berthe's tireless pursuit of her vocation. Growing up, she was close to her older sister Edma, a gifted painter herself, but after Edma's marriage and the birth of her children Berthe became disappointed with her sister giving up art. Berthe's continuing closeness to Edouard Manet became another bone of contention between the sisters, and over time they drifted apart. Thus we get a glimpse of the joys and challenges of sisterhood, and how even that bond can become complicated in a society that represses women.
Berthe Morisot was lucky to live in Paris, Europe's artistic capital; yet, despite being a woman of talent, passion, and an independent spirit she was never able to reap the same benefits and enjoy the same freedoms that her male peers did. La Luministe is a fitting tribute to the Painter of Light, and a testament to how far we have come since her times.
This is an exquisitely imagined and written novel about the artist Berthe Morisot, her determined but, also, instinctive approach to art and life and love. This novel is a beautiful, seductive linguistic dance, subtly expressive like Morisot's art. A more comprehensive review to follow ...
Loved. This. Book. It reads as if you are standing in front of a Berthe Morisot painting, wishing she would speak to you - and then quietly, privately, she does. And not just about her daring brush strokes or her use of quiet color, but also the secrets, the stories and the struggles hidden in each canvas. Yes, you will be fascinated to read about Morisot’s scandalous love triangle with the Manet brothers, but at its heart, this book is about a woman’s greatest passion: her art.
Loved this book, and so glad I’ve gotten to read it. I would never have known about it without the growing #HFChitChat community on Twitter.
I love reading about “new” historical persons. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I didn’t know anything about this artist, thankfully I do now because of this interesting story about how it could have all happened, dealing with the facts and the rumors.
Imagine a female impressionist. Imagine one who kept at it and kept at it, fully belonged, enjoyed some success in her lifetime. One who went against the grain a bit and who didn’t live to regret it. Imagine growing into artistry beside Manet, Monet, Dega. Imagine creating your own art, about women in their daily lives, for the world to see.
This book is for art lovers. It is for thinking about those who went before, who paved the path, who we’d like to know more about.
I give you a fully imagined story. I give you Berthe.
"I was baffled about my feelings for Manet. Was I falling in love with him, or did I wish I could be him?"
A poet cannot write poetry, they say, without first experiencing heartbreak. Likewise, an artist cannot call themselves an artist without the approval of the Académie. But there was one who was daring enough to break the rules of technique and subject matter. Édouard Manet's was a renegade, his work considered offensive, and yet the man himself was charming, charismatic, and utterly captivating.
Oh, how Berthe Morisot wanted to be a real artist. She did not want a husband and children as other women did. What Berthe and her sister dreamed of was becoming celebrated independent artists. However, although Manet gained fame by breaking the rules, when Berthe tried to do the same, she only got in trouble. Her darling Maman became even more determined to find Berthe a husband, but despite the many suitors, none of the men Berthe met convinced her that domestic bliss would be better than a life with just a pallet, a paintbrush, and endless possibilities.
But then on one day, one auspicious autumn morning, Berthe met Édouard Manet. Despite her determination to dislike him, Berthe found that she craved his touch. Berthe longed for his eyes to be focused on her face, and hers alone. And she was desperate for his conversation. Berthe understood Manet as no one else did, and he understood her. She was his canvas. He was her light. Berthe's greatest fear was that she was condemned to love him forever.
From the soaring, arched, glass skylights of the Louvre, to an invitation to join les Independents, La Luministe by Paula Butterfield is the unforgettable story of Berthe Morisot and a secret that she would take to her grave.
As Manet once said, "It is not enough to know your craft – you have to have feeling. Science is all very well, but for us, imagination is worth far more." Never a more accurate word was spoken, and although Manet was talking about his profession, I believe what he said applies to all of the arts, but it is true especially when it comes to writing historical fiction. A Bard can write a pretty story about the past, but a Master Bard can breathe life back into people who have been dead for many years. Butterfield is such a bard — she is such a writer. No one else could have written the story of Berthe Morisot the way Butterfield has. Butterfield's mesmerising narrative seduced me, and with a stroke of the brush, I found myself transported back in time to an era that was as foreign as it was revolutionary. This was a time of poetic lawlessness, where one man dared to try something different, and by being controversial, by doing his own thing, Manet paved the way for those, for the most part, penniless artists, whose paintings now sell for millions. This was the beginning of the Impressionists movement — with their bold brushstrokes, their dramatic use of colour and light. They immortalised a snapshot of life in one sacred moment. Butterfield has captured the excitement, the despair, the ridicule and the triumph in all its naked glory. In this book, we see the birth of Impressionism, and we watch as it is let loose upon the world in a storm of dazzling light and emotions — it yells from the rooftops that life is not symmetrical and nor is art. But above everything else, Butterfield has written a book that honours that enduring condition of human frailty that we know more commonly as love. Butterfield seemingly cries that love cannot be denied, and nor should it, for look what happens when it is. A tragedy. A curse. A missed opportunity for something better, something more — something that reminds us of the very reason for living. The emotion is raw. The prose is not.
This book is heartbreakingly beautiful because of the honesty of its heroine. Berthe is an intelligent woman who is incredibly driven, and this in a time when women had so many social and career limitations put upon them. Berthe knows that she and Manet can never be, but her heart cannot catch up with what her head is telling her. She loves him, and there is nothing she can do about that, even by marrying his brother, her love for Manet does not extinguish. This is a tragic love story that is as irresistible as it is enthralling. Once started there was no way I was going to put this book down, it captured my attention in the very first paragraph and, as I neared the end, I found myself desperately trying to read more slowly. I dragged out the final chapters because I did not want this story to end. I did not want to leave this place, these characters. Ever. But, as with all good things... I feel richer having read La Luministe, and despite the devastating ending, which I knew was coming, I would read it again and again.
There are no false idols in this book, Manet has his faults, but he is a loveable rogue, a very caring man underneath a veneer of indifference and indulgence. When in Berthe's company, we see the real Manet, the one hidden from the illustrious society that he keeps. Although this book is told for the most part from Berthe's point of view, Butterfield has presented her readers with letters from Manet to Degas, where Manet shares his innermost thoughts and desires. These letters were as moving as they were telling, and Butterfield allowed her readers to glimpse at the man behind the illness that would kill him, behind the paintings that he is so famous for.
One might think that when the hero of a book dies of something as awful as untreated syphilis, that there would be darkness to this story — an ugliness. There are dark moments, not only with regards to Manet's illness but also the Franco-Prussian War and The Siege of Paris, but there is nothing ugly about this book or these characters, not even when Manet is so ill, his passion, the way he sees, the way he thinks is so vivid in the telling. He is portrayed as the kind of man who could not, who would not ever die — there was too much life in him for that, too many paintings that he needed to paint. Still, as so often is the case, those who burn the brightest, burn the shortest. So, I warn you, have a box of tissues near to hand when you read this book, you are going to need it.
You don't have to be an expert on the Impressionist movement to enjoy this book. You don't even have to know who these artists are because Butterfield is an exceptional tour guide. But if you are, as I am, a lover of these artists and their work, then this book is a must-read.
What I loved about this book was that you could look up the paintings that are described as you read it, and by doing this, it made me feel an even stronger connection to the writing. With that in mind, as well as the tissues, I do recommend having Google to hand as well.
There is nothing about this book I did not love. It is an exceptional work of art. La Luministe, by Paula Butterfield, is utterly arresting from start to finish.
I Highly Recommend.
Review by Mary Anne Yarde. The Coffee Pot Book Club.
Loved this. Now it’s time to go flip through an art book for a while and look at the paintings this book describes so eloquently. (As a librarian, I love a book that leaves me with more joyful research to do.) Beautifully written portrait of a creative woman’s interior life in a time when it was incredibly frustrating to be a creative woman.
My soundtrack for this book: “The Man” by Taylor Swift. But, like, as an Impressionist painting. Glorious.
This historical-fictional life of impressionist painter Berthe Morisot will stun you. Butterfield is a historian of women artists, particularly this period, and she brings depth, subtlety, and emotion to the story of Morisot. We are drawn through Morisot's growth a painter of light itself, her tempestuous relationship with Manet, and her rich inner life. Morisot is glorious. That's all I have to say.
Of her and Manet's relationship, look up Manet's Repose, a portrait of Morisot with her ankle exposed. Look at her pose, her eyes, and that ankle and you have a hint of the desire that drove them both as equals and as man and woman.
The book also treats you to dinner parties or gatherings at cafes of the great Impressionists and Manet where they discuss art and the utter scandal of painting what is natural in the moment. While the men paint exterior scenes, the female impressionists are limited to the domestic. And this limitation opens the door to the women's extraordinary and unique vision.
One of my favourite observations is Morisot's irritation with a painting of a woman in front of a mirror preparing herself for the evening, painted by a man in dark, lush hues. It is the eye of a man, seeing the boudoir as her sexual invitation, a portrait of his desire, not the woman. Morisot paints the same scene, but now filled with light, using mainly white paint touched with with colour and the black ribbon at her neck. A painting from a woman's eye. A bright room, the pleasure of dressing oneself, and female intimacy.
Butterfield educates the reader about the period with a light touch. You will be captivated as you read about what works the impressionists were responding to in turning to their new methods and subjects, their struggles to capture attention of the art establishment when simply painting a domestic scene was understood to be a scandal. But it is the personal story of Morisot that drives it and keeps you captivated on every page.
I ended up reading it on my tablet and used the "look it up" feature so I could see for myself the paintings that Butterfield described so perfectly. But I am now buying a paperback to keep for myself. I intend to read this gorgeous book again.
When the story opens, Berthe Morisot is a young girl who, along with her sister Edma, is allowed by their parents to study painting prior to the inevitable marriage. While Edma makes a suitable marriage, Berthe refuses the role society and parents have assigned her and hopes to make a career as a serious artist. Such a career for a respectable woman was unthinkable in those days. When she meets the great Édouard Manet and falls under his spell, her desire to enter and conquer his world becomes her overriding passion.
This book is not a page turner. Nor is it a conventional romance. It is a detailed and fascinating look at Paris at a time after the Franco-Prussian War when the city was undergoing great changes; a time when the new boulevards were being laid out; when artists well-known today were struggling to make names for themselves and impressionism was a new movement setting itself against the constraints of the staid Salon. Mostly it’s about Berthe and her fraught relationship with Manet as she struggles to find herself as artist, lover, and woman. She’s a very nuanced character. We see her in moments of weakness, despair, envy, and self-doubt, but she never let’s go of her vision, and we have to root for her. And it’s also about Manet, a libertine who loves life and lives it to the fullest. There is also a supporting cast of famous names.
The writer goes deeply into the complex love affair between Berthe and Manet. The prose is excellent. The book is a sensual delight that must be not just read but experienced. It’s always a pleasure to rub shoulders, in a manner of speaking, with the good and the great of the art world. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I recommend it for anyone who likes literary fiction, but it is a must for those interested in art history.
La Luministe made me want to read the available biographies of Berthe Morisot, not only because of the colorful portrayal of the art scene in Paris in the late 1800s but also because I frequently found myself wondering how much of the book was true and how much was artistic license. Based on other reviews, it's not clear whether Morisot had an affair with Edouard Manet, but Morisot's burning of her journals and letters from the period when she served as Manet's model suggests something. Otherwise, Butterfield appears to have used her journals and letters as the basis for the book, and it is a very readable though very internal, describing Morisot's inner world, her thoughts and emotions, as well as her friendships with other artists of the day, such as Degas.
The book is heavily weighted toward her young life before her marriage to Eugene, her fascination with his brother Edouard, her restrictive family life and Berthe's youthful desires to be a great artist. Her work outdoors and focus on women in domestic interiors is also emphasized. But I had hoped for more description of her life after she became a recognized and in-demand artist. Some of her most productive years are glossed over quickly, and there is little description of the evolution of her work or even narratives about some of her most ambitious works.
I also would have liked an epilogue or afterward discussing how her work was later sold by her family and bought up by major museums, and where her major works are now on display. I saw an exhibition of her work in Canada several years ago, and most of the paintings had been borrowed from museums and private collections all over the world.
It seems so long ago now, but in 2008, San Francisco’s de Young Museum exhibited women Impressionists Berthe Morisot, Mary Cassatt, Eva Gonzalès, and Marie Bracquemond. Berthe Morisot stood out for me because of her distinctive portrayals of female life, as well as her ability to create her own path in the male-dominated world of artists. From the beginning, she knew she had to find her own path, and she did.
No wonder I was delighted to find Paula Butterfield’s portrayal of Morisot in La Luministe, a novel based on Morisot’s life. Biographies are wonderful, and I’ll also want to read one or more about this artist, but it will be a different experience from entering into the kind of fictionalized account of Morisot’s world that Butterfield creates. Instead of apprehending Morisot from a distance, I’m taken into her day-to-day environment as she makes her way from a young woman, exploring her skills as an artist who is trying to break free from her parents’ claims on her, to her passionate encounters with Edouard Manet and others.
I’m impressed with how Butterfield captures Paris of the 1800s, including the many interiors she creates. In every moment, I was inhabiting this complex world and feeling amazed that Morisot managed to make it come alive with her descriptions of lush interiors and exteriors. This is a work for those who love art and vivid writing. They will find both here!
So often are female artists relegated to the shadows of their male contemporaries. Before reading La Luministe, I'd never heard of Morisot or her work—though she's an undoubtedly influential and preeminent artist within the Impressionist circle. Butterfield has decades of background teaching about women in the arts, and this is evident in the depth with which she portrays Morisot and the circumstances surrounding her: a society which scorned and mocked women artists, prohibiting them from an artistic education and confining them to the role of a wife. La Luministe is educational without being drily academic; the writing is from an intimate first-person perspective, and over the course of the book, Berthe—with her tenacity, passion, and biting wit—felt like a close friend to me. I would recommend this book to anyone interested in the Impressionists, and especially to women artists like myself who can find a piece of themselves in Berthe.
"I resolved to do everything in my power to avoid the domestic life in store for me for as long as I possibly could. Then, one day, when I was a Great Artist, I would make paintings of modern women making themselves beautiful. A woman's world as it really was—more Utamaro than Titian. More intimate than heroic. That was a subject about which I knew more than even Edouard Manet."
This finely written book about a breakthrough woman artist, Berthe Morisot, who is finally getting world wide recognition and whose work hangs in the Louve is spellbinding.
The author, Paula Butterfield, captures the essence of one of the most pivotal and vivid times in the history of Western art, Early Impressionism.
Berthe Morisot is not driven solely by her desire to change the cultural mandate against women fully participating in the visual arts, but also by her pure joy in painting.
For example, when Berthe boldly sneaks away to paint alone outside, you feel her enchantment as she tries to capture the technique of painting air.
Many of the characters in the book are fully realized through the skillful use of interesting detail, such as Berthe's upper class mother delicately holding the newspaper at an angle so as not to even slightly stain her dress.
This book is brimming with romance, unrequited love, war, and buckets of fascinating historical detail.
As one who has carefully studied mid-19th century Parisian art history and its chief players, I greatly admired and enjoyed Paula Butterfield's novel, La Luministe. In fact, Butterfield is our "luministe" as she enlightens us about what it was like to be a painter during a time when respectable women did not paint beyond pretty little scenes to make them seem accomplished to suitable husbands.
Though artist Berthe Morisot sustains a lifelong longing for the unobtainable Edouard Manet, she manages to break free from both society and familial expectations enough to become a painter of note herself in the newly bourgeoning Impressionist movement. In the end, she ultimately finds herself at "repose," as one of Manet's paintings of her is titled.
This book is moving, well researched, and told with painstaking detail. It was a delight to read.
Learned loads from this. Berthe Morisot is such an interesting woman and so talented. Piqued my interest in Impressionist art again. Will read more by Paula Butterfield
Loved this book that illuminates a brave women in a world of men that wasn't and hasn't received the notoriety of some of her contemporaries. It was a delightful descent into a golden age of art in Paris. Highly recommend it 5 outta 5 from me.
I recommend parts of this book. It is a very ambitious fictional representation of Morisot's life and a great resource to get unacquainted readers interested and educated in Morisot's work. Butterfield relies heavily on Morisot's real-life correspondence, as many quotes are used directly in dialogue, and aspects of Berthe's biographies by Anne Higonnet and Margaret Sheehan are portrayed here faithfully.
However, like other fictional portrayals of Morisot's life, Butterfield chooses to imagine that Manet and Morisot were lovers. This is where she lost me. To me, these scenes cheapened the narrative and took me out of the story. In addition to this, her treatment of Morisot's husband Eugene was very harsh, rendering him high-strung, frequently ill, and with no redeeming qualities. Perhaps Butterfield extrapolated this from Sheehan's biography which is very critical of Eugene and tries hard to argue Eugene and Berthe's marriage wasn't a happy one. Personally, I was hoping for a more nuanced and balanced depiction of Morisot's relations with the Manet brothers.
In short, an engaging rendering of Morisot's life, but the liberties taken in the narrative were little too much for me and ultimately soured my reading experience.
Do you want to be immersed in Berthe Morisot’s world, know what she knows, and feel what she feels? If so, then this is your book. Paula Butterfield’s La Luministe is a moving portrayal of Morisot's incredible life. I particularly enjoyed the amount of research that went into this book, which is full of detail and atmosphere. You think the glass ceiling is hard to breakthrough now? Wait till you read what Berthe had to endure.