It's sad when an artist or author devotes his or her life to art and garners little recognition until late in life or after they're dead. I suppose there are some artists who are so visionary and progressive that they are simply not truly understood and appreciated at the time they are working. And it is only after times change that what they created becomes acceptable or even commonplace to many. Emily Carr was just such an artist. It seems as though towards the end of her life she did gain some appreciation, but as a younger woman she seemed very misunderstood.
I finally finished Susan Vreeland's The Forest Lover. Although I did have struggle with the book a tad in the middle (I set it down and didn't feel much like picking it up again), I am glad I stuck with it, as the story did pick up. It is not an action adventure type book, but more a character of the artist. Her story is really interesting, and what she went through would have probably made a weaker person just give up. Her style of painting and her choice of subject matter was frowned upon in the Victorian society of Canadian Biritish Columbia. She studied painting in San Francisco, England and later Paris. The most support she seemed to get from other artists (men) would be you paint well...for a woman. And she painted with gusto and exuberance. She was heavily influenced by the Fauves, whose art was quite colorful and spontaneous. She seemed to feel closest to nature and she loved native/First Nations themes. As a matter of fact she traveled fairly extensively in British Columbia to make a record of the quickly disappearing native villages and totem poles. This did not go over well with proper society who thought First Nations people were "primitives". The only thing that mattered and was acceptable came from Europe.
Prior to and during the First World War she was so defeated by the public's reaction towards her art that she gave up painting for a time. She had a boardinghouse, raised dogs, became a potter and made rugs to support herself. In the 1920s she finally began exhibiting her art with another group of Canadian artists called The Group of Seven (all men) and started painting once again. Throughout the book you get a real sense of how close she felt to her art and the subjects she chose to paint. As always I am curious about how well this jibes with the real Emily Carr. I am sure Vreeland did a lot of research, but she also notes in the afterword that she did take some poetic license with certain events and characters. Of course this is a fictional account of her life, so it is to be expected that the story may not be entirely faithful to reality. Now Emily Carr is internationally known and respected as a true artist and it is nice to know that at the end of her life she was finally recognized as such.
This is my second Vreeland book. I have also read The Girl in Hyacinth Blue, which is a set of interrelated stories which concerns the provenance of a (fictional) Vermeer painting. From its inception as a portrait to where it ended up today the book shows who had it and how they came to get it. I thought it was quite good. I also have The Passion of Artemisia and Life Studies (more short stories) on my TBR pile. And should it come as any surprise that I have started Mr. Midshipman Hornblower by C.S. Forester today?! Or that I already have lined up the next book to come after that (a Du Maurier!)?