At almost 900 pages of text, this wasn't an easy book for me to pick up. My interest in art has always been fairly superficial and this would be the first one of these tomes on a single artist. I did anyway, and a week later I'm happy I did. This was a great book on an important painter who had an amazing, complex life. It was thoroughly informative and hugely enjoyable.
I think the first Bacon painting I saw (and remembered anyway) was an early triptych exhibited at Tate Britain. On a shock orange background, the three pictures depict some pretty disturbing caricatures of a human, as if a living person has been moulded into clumps of flesh, with the sightless victims screaming out silently, begging for death. It touched a nerve. It was also pretty horrible. Perhaps even more so, because the painting looked so out of place in the same space Gainsborough and Turner. But then again, Bacon's early nightmarish paintings would seem out of place pretty much anywhere.
The lack of context, this rejection to be a member of some historic movement was a consistent thread in Bacon's art that spanned more than half a century. Born an asthmatic Anglo-Irish in a well-to-do military family, he seems to have stumbled upon painting whilst working as a furniture and interior designer. His paintings began to be noticed only in his late thirties, and even then it wasn't a straightforward propulsion to stardom. Neither impressionistic nor abstract, his works were difficult to place in either the Paris or New York art 'scenes', and the agonising, violent images in huge dimensions did not readily find a willing market amongst collectors either. No matter; Bacon continued to pursue his own artistic tradition with Nietzschean fervour, until, eventually, he became one of the most celebrated artists of the last century.
Whilst chronicling his professional trajectory, the book also faithfully follows his personal life. And what a life it was. He was a gay man born from parents who regarded homosexual acts 'as an abomination', and lived in societies that grudgingly accepted his existence at best. He nonetheless cultivated some deep relationships, both lovers and friends, who in turn shaped his life. It wasn't all happy days - his relationship with Peter Lacy, who the author speculates was the love of his life, was particularly frought. Once an aspiring musician, Lacy gradually degenerated into an alcoholic, abusive partner. It wasn't a choreographed S&M session with safe words; Lacy beat him furiously in their many rows, in one instance hurling Bacon out of a window, letting him fall 10-15 feet below. Yet they stayed together for a long time.
Thankfully, not all of Bacon's relationships were as emotionally charged and ruinous. He was usually gregarious, charming and 'dandy' wherever he went. He loved parties, drinking, and gambling -- he loved to win, and he also loved to lose, especially everything. He kept many a lifelong friends, and remained loyal to his family and adopted families, yet he delighted in meeting new people. Even in his eighties, he said 'often when I go out in the evenings I flirt as if I was 50.' And as his asthmatic body started to fail him, he 'resolutely refused to give up champagne.' That made me happy.