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Wreck: The Art of Being Lost at Sea
An artist's obsession with Géricault's monumental painting The Raft of the Medusa, and an intensely personal reckoning that delves deep inside the making of an artwork.
An artist's obsession with Géricault's monumental painting The Raft of the Medusa, and an intensely personal reckoning that delves deep inside the making of an artwork.
Artist Tom de Freston has long had an obsession with Géricault's painting The Raft of the Medusa, and the troubling story behind its creation. The monumental canvas, which hangs in the Louvre, depicts a 19th century tragedy in which 150 people were drowned at sea on a raft lost in a stormy sea, when the ship Medusa was wrecked on shallow ground.
When de Freston began making an artwork with Ali, a Syrian writer blinded by a bombing, The Raft's depiction of pain and suffering resonated powerfully with him, as did Géricault's awful life story. It spoke not only to Ali's story but to Tom's family history of trauma and anguish, offering him a passage out of the dark waters in which he found himself.
In spellbinding, visceral prose, de Freston opens a window onto the magnetic frisson that runs between a past masterpiece and contemporary artistic endeavours. He asks powerful questions about how we might translate violence, fear and trauma into art, how we try to make sense of seemingly unthinkable acts, and the value in facing and depicting the darkest horrors.
An artist's obsession with Géricault's monumental painting The Raft of the Medusa, and an intensely personal reckoning that delves deep inside the making of an artwork.
Artist Tom de Freston has long had an obsession with Géricault's painting The Raft of the Medusa, and the troubling story behind its creation. The monumental canvas, which hangs in the Louvre, depicts a 19th century tragedy in which 150 people were drowned at sea on a raft lost in a stormy sea, when the ship Medusa was wrecked on shallow ground.
When de Freston began making an artwork with Ali, a Syrian writer blinded by a bombing, The Raft's depiction of pain and suffering resonated powerfully with him, as did Géricault's awful life story. It spoke not only to Ali's story but to Tom's family history of trauma and anguish, offering him a passage out of the dark waters in which he found himself.
In spellbinding, visceral prose, de Freston opens a window onto the magnetic frisson that runs between a past masterpiece and contemporary artistic endeavours. He asks powerful questions about how we might translate violence, fear and trauma into art, how we try to make sense of seemingly unthinkable acts, and the value in facing and depicting the darkest horrors.
- GenresNonfictionArtHistory
352 pages, Hardcover
Published January 1, 2021
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185 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
April 15, 2022
I decided to read this book without knowing anything about it. Mistake. I found it a very self-indulgent and badly written (if I hear the words ‘buttery’ or ‘queering’ again I might scream) book, which manages to shoehorn correct opinions on all the hot issues of our time. The book is probably 10% about Géricault, and most of that is speculative.
November 10, 2021
What a strange and beguiling book.
It's partly an exercise in art history and biography — exploring the life of the Raft of the Medusa, as well as its painter. The histories span decades, tumbling through legacies of slavery, infidelity and society.
At the same time too, this is a story about grief, loss and separation — the gulfs of time and space that separate intrinsically linked events and moments and people.
It's partly an exercise in art history and biography — exploring the life of the Raft of the Medusa, as well as its painter. The histories span decades, tumbling through legacies of slavery, infidelity and society.
At the same time too, this is a story about grief, loss and separation — the gulfs of time and space that separate intrinsically linked events and moments and people.
March 16, 2022
One of the most fascinating books I’ve read in a long time. Taking Gericault’s painting The Raft of the Medusa as a starting point, it is part art history/ biography, part memoir dealing with grief, trauma and loss on one hand and the process of creating art, healing, collaboration, hope and friendship on the other.
The author, Tom de Freston is an artist long obsessed with Gericault’s Raft of the Medusa. This obsession leads him to not only look into Gericault’s life, work and research and preparation Gericault undertook before creating it but also into ways of creating his own contemporary response to it. A major scandal in France in early 19th century, Medusa carried hundreds of people from all walks of life to recolonise Senegal when it sank. While those of better birth and position took to lifeboats, a hundred and fifty survivors were crammed onto a hastily built raft that drifted for days without food, water or shelter. Less than twenty people survived the ordeal and Gericault’s Raft captures the moment of sighting the rescue ship on the horizon. The huge canvas was controversial at the time, highlighting the horrors and the suffering of the shipwrecked while condemning slavery and French imperial ambitions.
In his work, de Freston explores ways of depicting horrors of suffering, violence and pain, his own trauma, grief and complicated, abusive relationship with his father. The Raft is an inspiration but it is when he meets Ali, a Syrian refugee blinded in a terrorist attack and the two start collaborating that the artist is finally able to face his own past and begin healing.
Wreck is a compelling read, visceral and tough at times but also luminous and moving. I particularly loved reading about de Freston’s process, his writing is so vivid, at times I felt I was standing in his studio quietly watching this manic process of creation. There is an exhibition of his work at Cross Street Gallery in Islington to coincide with the publication of the book that I can’t wait to go and see.
My thanks to Granta Publications and Netgalley for the opportunity to read Wreck.
The author, Tom de Freston is an artist long obsessed with Gericault’s Raft of the Medusa. This obsession leads him to not only look into Gericault’s life, work and research and preparation Gericault undertook before creating it but also into ways of creating his own contemporary response to it. A major scandal in France in early 19th century, Medusa carried hundreds of people from all walks of life to recolonise Senegal when it sank. While those of better birth and position took to lifeboats, a hundred and fifty survivors were crammed onto a hastily built raft that drifted for days without food, water or shelter. Less than twenty people survived the ordeal and Gericault’s Raft captures the moment of sighting the rescue ship on the horizon. The huge canvas was controversial at the time, highlighting the horrors and the suffering of the shipwrecked while condemning slavery and French imperial ambitions.
In his work, de Freston explores ways of depicting horrors of suffering, violence and pain, his own trauma, grief and complicated, abusive relationship with his father. The Raft is an inspiration but it is when he meets Ali, a Syrian refugee blinded in a terrorist attack and the two start collaborating that the artist is finally able to face his own past and begin healing.
Wreck is a compelling read, visceral and tough at times but also luminous and moving. I particularly loved reading about de Freston’s process, his writing is so vivid, at times I felt I was standing in his studio quietly watching this manic process of creation. There is an exhibition of his work at Cross Street Gallery in Islington to coincide with the publication of the book that I can’t wait to go and see.
My thanks to Granta Publications and Netgalley for the opportunity to read Wreck.
April 17, 2025
Knowing the outcome of this story didn't make it any less frustrating to read when it finally hit. Wreck is a perfect example of "Why are you the person to write this book?" because no one else could have connected this exact chain of events, past and present. At once it is the story of de Freston attempting to use art to recreate someone else's traumatic event, recognizing where his own trauma and perspective skew the storytelling, and the history behind The Raft of the Medusa, peppered by Gericault's life and learning process. De Freston ties it all together and doesn't shy away from anything—nothing seems off limits, and for some this might be an indicator of real passion, while for others it might be too indulgent. Where is the line between documentation and exploitation? When is it raising awareness versus creating trauma porn? What I love about Wreck is that de Freston repeatedly becomes aware of when he's walking that line, and stops himself from veering in the wrong direction.
He recognizes the violence in his art, after the fact. There's his attempt to recreate the physical outcome of a Damascus blast which has blinded his new friend Ali; he's contorting his body and throwing himself off chairs, injuring himself on a stage of wooden pallets and capturing the movement on camera to use as a model for his art, and at times this comes off as exploitative of Ali's experience. But then he shares the interaction that follows, with Ali correcting him and letting him know that his efforts to recreate are unnecessarily destructive and not at all representative of the sensations he'd experienced while being blinded. And then he attempts to describe the depictions of waterboarding and beheading in some of his older paintings to Ali, suddenly realizing they are crass and uncomfortable to describe, tipping him off that he's made them to fulfill some bizarre personal need. Just as you start to wince at what he's doing in the name of art, you see how self-aware he is, unafraid to acknowledge when he's got it wrong.
I have to applaud the way he thoughtfully ties in the Grenfell Tower fire, delicately addresses his personal experiences with abuse and mental health, and despite losing a career's worth of art, has managed to build this meaningful story out of the loss. It is something of a cliche to recognize the beauty in loss but Wreck is a richly written and thoughtfully edited story and wouldn't have come to be without that destruction.
He recognizes the violence in his art, after the fact. There's his attempt to recreate the physical outcome of a Damascus blast which has blinded his new friend Ali; he's contorting his body and throwing himself off chairs, injuring himself on a stage of wooden pallets and capturing the movement on camera to use as a model for his art, and at times this comes off as exploitative of Ali's experience. But then he shares the interaction that follows, with Ali correcting him and letting him know that his efforts to recreate are unnecessarily destructive and not at all representative of the sensations he'd experienced while being blinded. And then he attempts to describe the depictions of waterboarding and beheading in some of his older paintings to Ali, suddenly realizing they are crass and uncomfortable to describe, tipping him off that he's made them to fulfill some bizarre personal need. Just as you start to wince at what he's doing in the name of art, you see how self-aware he is, unafraid to acknowledge when he's got it wrong.
I have to applaud the way he thoughtfully ties in the Grenfell Tower fire, delicately addresses his personal experiences with abuse and mental health, and despite losing a career's worth of art, has managed to build this meaningful story out of the loss. It is something of a cliche to recognize the beauty in loss but Wreck is a richly written and thoughtfully edited story and wouldn't have come to be without that destruction.
July 8, 2023
WRECK is very different from the books I'd usually read, a mix of art history and memoir, charting the story of a painting and two people exploring trauma through art.
I do not know the painting, The Wreck of the Medusa, that is at the heart of this book, but Tom de Freston manages to bring it to life with ease, starting every chapter with a description of part of it. Not just the image itself is described, but the influences behind it and what it has influenced or chimed with later in time. It's a fascinating insight into art history, the connections between periods, mediums, and people.
The chapters then move to situating the painting into both Géricault's life and the events that unfolded around the sinking of the Medusa. These contain a collaboration and relationship between Géricault and the survivor he talked to that mirrors that of de Freston and Ali. These sections read like a story, bringing the past to life.
Last in each chapter comes the next part of de Freston and Ali's use of art to explore their trauma as well as their relationship developing as they get to know one another. It's quite the insight into the artistic process, the consideration of colour and what's in the paint, the physicality of it, destruction as art not ending.
There's a real honesty in this parts, exploring depression and trauma. It doesn't flinch back or keep things private, but instead lays out the journey of realisation, acceptance, and the start towards healing. It deals with heavy topics (and also doesn't try to cover over the brutal realities of what happened on the raft) but focuses more on the effect it has on a person than the thing that caused it in the first place.
The whole thing combines to give a sort of cluttered feel, like getting inside a mind crowded with connections and ideas, all of it spilling onto the page. It's really compelling and it's written so clearly that even someone like me with no idea of art history (or frankly any of the artists or works referenced!) can follow along.
I do not know the painting, The Wreck of the Medusa, that is at the heart of this book, but Tom de Freston manages to bring it to life with ease, starting every chapter with a description of part of it. Not just the image itself is described, but the influences behind it and what it has influenced or chimed with later in time. It's a fascinating insight into art history, the connections between periods, mediums, and people.
The chapters then move to situating the painting into both Géricault's life and the events that unfolded around the sinking of the Medusa. These contain a collaboration and relationship between Géricault and the survivor he talked to that mirrors that of de Freston and Ali. These sections read like a story, bringing the past to life.
Last in each chapter comes the next part of de Freston and Ali's use of art to explore their trauma as well as their relationship developing as they get to know one another. It's quite the insight into the artistic process, the consideration of colour and what's in the paint, the physicality of it, destruction as art not ending.
There's a real honesty in this parts, exploring depression and trauma. It doesn't flinch back or keep things private, but instead lays out the journey of realisation, acceptance, and the start towards healing. It deals with heavy topics (and also doesn't try to cover over the brutal realities of what happened on the raft) but focuses more on the effect it has on a person than the thing that caused it in the first place.
The whole thing combines to give a sort of cluttered feel, like getting inside a mind crowded with connections and ideas, all of it spilling onto the page. It's really compelling and it's written so clearly that even someone like me with no idea of art history (or frankly any of the artists or works referenced!) can follow along.
November 26, 2022
I am baffled by the negativity of the reviews on here! This is a fantastic book with a solid, well-thought through (and extremely pleasing) structure, layering - as if coats of paint - storylines onto a painting which, just in itself, has a fascinating backstory. I thoroughly enjoyed exploring the creative process with Tom and seeing inside an artist's studio. There are neat parallels throughout the book, and everything adds up to a fascinating tapestry full of further references and fascinating conclusions and thoughts. A very well-written combination of personal history, art history and analysis.
Full review: http://bookerthanyou.blogspot.com/202...
Full review: http://bookerthanyou.blogspot.com/202...
May 17, 2022
Picked up this book after seeing the finished work of Tom de Freston, which is referenced in the book. Really enjoyed the artwork so it's a shame the book didn't work for me.
The concepts in this book are great, looking at creating work working with a man blinded by a bomb, the parallels with Gericault's work who is an inspiration for the artist and the artist's own personal life as well.
Unfortunately it does read like it's written by an artist in that it meanders a lot and feels double the length that it should be. The book may not have worked for me, but I would recommend the artist's work.
The concepts in this book are great, looking at creating work working with a man blinded by a bomb, the parallels with Gericault's work who is an inspiration for the artist and the artist's own personal life as well.
Unfortunately it does read like it's written by an artist in that it meanders a lot and feels double the length that it should be. The book may not have worked for me, but I would recommend the artist's work.
May 5, 2023
I really enjoyed the beginning of this strange book. Purchased blindly the story of one of my favorite paintings was beyond intriguing. I really enjoyed how each chapter was structured around the Gericault story, and then flipped to the main character. Granted, towards the end I cared less about the main character.
The ending falls flat for me however and left a sour taste in my mouth. The excerpt about Jay Z and Beyoncé in the Louvre took me out of it. How are they any sort of antithesis of what the people on the raft went through?
Overall an interesting idea that has glimmers of success and yet moments of sheer annoyance.
The ending falls flat for me however and left a sour taste in my mouth. The excerpt about Jay Z and Beyoncé in the Louvre took me out of it. How are they any sort of antithesis of what the people on the raft went through?
Overall an interesting idea that has glimmers of success and yet moments of sheer annoyance.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 25, 2023
Do not read this book whilst eating.
Some significant oversharing of personal trauma with a strong psychosexual element. Poor Ali.
Also a genuine attempt to explore how human suffering can be brought to the attention of others by looking at Gericault’s painting and Ali’s experience in Syria.
The most interesting bit for me was the bit about looking at photos of the Sabra and Shatila Camps and the kind of collective amnesia we have about this horrifying episode.
And don’t play with fire, kids.
Some significant oversharing of personal trauma with a strong psychosexual element. Poor Ali.
Also a genuine attempt to explore how human suffering can be brought to the attention of others by looking at Gericault’s painting and Ali’s experience in Syria.
The most interesting bit for me was the bit about looking at photos of the Sabra and Shatila Camps and the kind of collective amnesia we have about this horrifying episode.
And don’t play with fire, kids.
abandoned-half-way-through
August 13, 2022it turns out to be something completely different from what i imagined. i wanted to read about gericault, that's all. freston's effort to connect his art with it left me cold. his cryptic allusions to the wrongs his father had done to the family irritated me, being coy didn't get it close to my heart.
i thought hard to just read through but i can't. am feeling a bit guilty towards my friend borrowed the book from library for me.
i thought hard to just read through but i can't. am feeling a bit guilty towards my friend borrowed the book from library for me.
December 15, 2022
This book is beautiful, shattering and well written. The book combines elements of the author's life, a Syrian professors journey through war and disability, and of course the Raft of Medusa. An outstanding symphony of art, pain, lust and survival. Highly recommend.
July 5, 2022
Beautifully written, unusual and transportive.
July 5, 2022
Amazing, visceral experience. Never read a book that brought home what does into making an art masterwork and artists practices. Interleaved with heartbreaking personal notes,
October 17, 2023
This is floating somewhere between a 3 and a 4 for me. I was expecting it to be challenging at times due to the exploration of suffering in art and this is a book that has certainly caused me to think a lot and will likely stay with me. The exploration of Gericault and his painting were particularly fascinating, so much so that sometimes the secondary plotline of the author's own explorations were not always as well executed for me. I can't help but feel this could have been tightened up at times, but it has definitely been an illuminating read.
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews