Long in the writing, deep in research, heavy to hold, this is the latest of umpteen biographies of Vincent van Gogh (1853-90). But it should be said straightaway that it is extremely readable, contains new material and is freshly, even startlingly re-interpretative of a life whose bare bones are very familiar. The more one reads, the more absorbing it becomes, both in its breadth of approach and its colossal detail.
Potential readers, however, should be warned: this is no sentimentalising study, no apologia for the excesses of the ‘mad genius’ of popular renown. Quite the contrary: one’s dismay intensifies as the self-crucifixion of Van Gogh’s life unfolds, disaster after disaster on page after page.
In the 1870s and early 1880s his art dealing, teaching, evangelical preaching, attendance at art schools all ended in frustration and failure. Although devoted to the idea of family life, his presence in his father’s presbytery was often explosive; his attempts at wooing led to rejection; and the famous relationship with his brother Theo was riddled with difficulties, deceptions and misunderstanding: Vincent’s ideal of fraternal love was pitched far too high above reality.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in