An intriguing portrait of an eccentric and passionate woman who compiled one of the finest art collections in America is set against a backdrop of late nineteenth-century Boston society and examines her personal life, marriage, interest in art, and many accomnplishments.
After falling in love with the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, I couldn't wait to read this book and learn more about the fascinating and scandelous life of Isabella Stewart Gardner. Unfortunately, the author's unorganized thoughts and excessive use of the exclamation point on each page enraged me and prevented me from ever finishing the first chapter.
Not nearly as factual as I'd like, and seemingly ready to validate his own impressions, I still enjoy this different perspective on the varied life of art collector, mentor, muse and Victorian progressive thinker, Isabella Stuart Gardner.
The officially sanctioned book of Gardner's life is written by the Museum's first director, Morris Carter, "Isabella Stuart Gardner and Fenway Court." "Mrs. Jack" by Louise Hall Tharp, also has museum blessings. But it's always nice to read the "Non-sanctioned" versions as well!
I’ve had this biography on the shelf for years, and finally managed to read it after visiting the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in October. ISG was a truly fascinating woman - and she deserves better than this convoluted mess. She lived a long and active life, but it felt interminable in Shand-Tucci’s account.
Ironically, I have been reading Joe Moran’s First You Write a Sentence alongside the last 50 pages of this book, and it has really focused my mind on the flaws of Shand-Tucci’s writing style. First of all, the syntax: so convoluted at times that it requires multiple rereadings to follow his line of thought. If you can even call it a ‘line’ . . . more like a squiggle, really. Second, the punctuation: the exclamation point and comma are seriously abused in this book. As a general rule, I don’t think that there is room for many (if any) exclamation points in biographical writing. In this book, they are nearly as common as the period and I was amazed by how distracting they were. Whether the author was being arch or just excitable, the number of exclamation points made him seem as giddy, silly and hyperbolic as a young teenage girl. Third, authorial intrusions: the excessive use of exclamation points is just one example of the many annoying ways the author intrudes on the text. He is also excessively fond of the parenthetical aside. Fourth, digressions: there are far too many of them. Shand-Tucci is so eager to give the reader historical context (and more pertinently, to show off his research and insider knowledge) that he often entirely loses the thread of ISG’s life. Fifth, analogies: the author gets carried away in making connections that stretch a comparison to the point of absurdity. Very rarely are his analogies in any way illuminating. I was certainly introduced to a great many personage in this book, but except for major players (and important friends) like Henry James and John Singer Sargent, the constant parade of characters left nothing but a blur. I will remember that there were a lot of homosexual men. Either they were ISG’s special interest or more likely Shand-Tucci’s.
It’s difficult to focus my mind on anything other than the persistent annoyance of the author’s writing style; however, I did manage to glean enough knowledge about ISG’s life to appreciate her major artistic achievement in creating Fenway Court (now known as the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum). Clearly, (although this narrative was about as clear as mud), ISG was a complex character with many facets (some of them contradictory). I would definitely like to visit the Museum again, for it is far too rich in art and objets to be absorbed in one visit. Its creator’s life was much the same, I suspect.
It took me three months to slog through this. Gardner truly was an interesting woman, and it was worth the slog to learn more about her. However, there were long sections that seemed to serve no purpose other than to remind us that Shand-Tucci had done a lot of research. His writing style also left a lot to be desired, especially when it came to commas. Multiple times I had to reread sentences because they were so long, abused commas, or underutilized them. And! There! Were! So! Many! Exclamation! Points! Basically, it needed a better editor.
But I will say that now I want to visit the museum again with my deeper understanding of the woman and her life's work, so in that sense the book was a success.
This is like a train wreck I cannot look away from.
(TW for suicide on pages 39 and 82)
The author knows too much and cannot wait to tell you, to the detriment of the work. The constant interjections remind me of Barbara Park's Junie B. Jones character, a talkative little girl who often interrupts her own narrative flow to say, "and then guess what?" It's like an attempt at an academic Blue's Clues. It's like he was allowed to pitch all the information in his brain at once and then it was published.. unedited. This at best reads as a transcript of a memoir given as a speech, with references to his own ex lovers.
I would give this less than one star, would I could, as I believe it has stymied other publications on this incredible woman. Shame.
Well written and balanced view of an amazing person who challenged 19th century values and brought brohemia to brahmin Boston. Gardner left a legacy that extends far beyond her marvelous museum.
After reading the Art Forger, I had an interest in learning more about Mrs. Gardner. I came across this biography and decided to read it. First off there is a lot of facts in this book. It was not an easy read. I found it arduous at times to slog through the facts. I found myself reading three chapters and putting it down to read another book. I did finish it but barely. The book interested me enough to want to visit the museum.
I was so excited to read this book about the fascinating woman, Isabella Stewart Gardner. Her home now museum is a masterpiece.
Douglass Shand-Tucci's book unfortunately is a droning joke. That he could take such a fascinating woman and make her a bore to read about is a shame. I paid the used price of $.01 and think it was over priced.
I read two chapters and had to put this on the Return (to library) stack. I don’t understand how a book written about the life of someone so interesting and iconoclastic could be so completely unreadable.
Ugh! I can't believe I stuck with it. What could have been a totally engrossing read was tainted with sentences that went on and on ad nauseum and spending way too much time identifying the homosexual friends of ISG. There has got to be a better bio out there of this amazing and interesting woman.
The author's self-importance, need to insert himself constantly into the text, and his flagrant abuse of punctuation are detrimental to an otherwise fascinating subject. Isabella Stewart Gardner deserves a better biography than this.
I was so excited to find this and to start reading it. The author has made it about her own knowledge and her own ideas rather than about Isabella Stewart Gardner. i couldn't even make it through the first chapter.
Having waited far too long to visit this extraordinary museum, my only regret is that I did not memorize this book before visiting. Now I must go back.
It is too bad this book is such a mess. It is convoluted and self-serving. It *might* serve as a research companion, but is unreadable. Isabella Stewart Gardner deserves better.
Isabella Stewart Gardner was/is a Boston treasure. Her love of the Arts lives on in the Gardner Museum she designed and built on the Fenway and is a must-see for those visiting Boston. Sadly Douglas Shand-Tucci's biography is pompous in its language, disorganized and poorly written. I bought this in hardcover years ago when it was first published and loaned it to friends whose interest in Mrs. Jack's life outweighed my opinion about the book. Sadly, all agreed. This is just dreadful.
One star for this book is generous. Although I am fascinated by the life of Isabella Stewart Gardner and Boston's Gardner Museum, this book is so poorly written that reading it is torture. In spite of the author's credentials, his writing leaves a great deal to be desired. The book is riddled with asides that have little or no bearing on the life of Isabella Stewart Gardner. He inserts digression in parenthesis within a sentance. The book is poorly organized and often boring. I am greatly disappointed in what I thought would be a provocative read.
I so wanted to love this book, as the museum is one of my favorite places, but was bored to tears reading it. Shand-Tucci obviously had done his research thoroughly, but spent so much time evaluating the relations of her friends, and their work, that I was lost in daydream. Too bad, seemed that her life should have provided a more interesting story to tell.
A fascinating subject, and Shand-Tucci really knows his stuff. Unfortunately, the writing is overly pedantic, inappropriately personal on occasion, and over-ridden with exclamation points. At times, the writing was down-right exasperating. Still, I was intrigued enough by the subject herself and the breadth and depth of the historical detail, that I made my way through it, and was glad I did.
Pity her poor biographer when a conscientiously outrageous woman burns all her letters and papers and demands her correspondents and family do the same! Shand-Tucci then must psychoanalyze, empathize, and free associate to produce 368 pages of art criticism and gossip. Still, Isabella fascinates the reader willing to wade through it all.
It's fun to read about Mrs Gardner's life, which was fascinating - she really figured out who she was and what she wanted to do when what she'd planned didn't work out. The author is knowledgeable, but there are an awful lot of exclamation marks.
the author is inserting himself into this book far too much. I think I will just wait until I can go to Boston to see the museum and learn more about Isabella there.
What I just read is the second edition, enlarged and revised with a new introduction and a new chapter, published this time not by Harper Collins but by Back Bay Historical and the author. Why is Goodreads selling an outdated 20 year old version is my review? Douglass Shand-Tucci