My “Thanks Giving”

Thanks to DK Marley for the opportunity to guest post on her blog Hist Fic Chic. Please pop over and have a look if you want to read about the transformation of the architecture of Paris in the mid 1800’s and how it affected a group of painters you might be familiar with. (Think Impressionists and their ilk.) I even added in a poem by Charles Baudelaire for good measure. While you’re there, take a look around. It’s an educational and beautifully laid out site, for starters.

Since our household’s Thanksgiving will be dinner for two this year due to the Damndemic, I don’t have many preparations to make. We’re doing low carb (ugh!), so there are even fewer dishes to cook than usual. (I just wrote a flash fiction piece on the topic of low carb eating; if it doesn’t get published by the publication to which I sent it, I’ll share it with you here in the future.)

But there are dishes to be made, regardless. There is a turkey breast to be baked in the morning. Oh, and the Christmas Chronicles: Part 2 to watch on Netflix along with 84, Charing Cross that hubby does not know I found on Amazon Prime and now very much want to watch. Can you believe I never have?

Then there’s that book I didn’t know I was going to write that is almost up to 40,000 words to carve at. And the fact that I’m as lost as a white glove in a snowstorm as to how to stitch the parts together. (I wrote a loose outline, I did. But alas, I still took off in all directions. I think maybe I’m an “enjoy the journey” kinda writer. )

I really did not intend to join in on NaNoWriMo, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to hit that 50K without trying. (I’m a fast — if messy — writer.) I’m happy about that.

While I have once again taken on more projects than I probably should have, I’m in a productive phase so I’m going with it. All of the things I’m doing are blessings. Some of them have tedious parts, sure, but I enjoy them all.

And after all, being busy keeps you from missing those you can’t be with for the holidays quite so much. Here’s to next year.

La Luministe, a Lush Art Novel by Paula Butterfield

When I heard about this book, I knew I’d buy it. There are books like that. Since I’m an Impressionism geek and feminist, when I heard that Paula Butterfield had written a novel about Berthe Morisot, one of the few women on the forefront of the Impressionist movement, I was thrilled.

Then I learned that my Victorine Meurent, the main character of my novel, makes an appearance in La Luministe, and I squealed. (A fun thing is that Morisot shows up in my book briefly as well.)

If someone had asked me what I’d like a novel written about, I’d have said this. And I wasn’t disappointed.

But before I discuss the content, let’s look at the cover. You’ve got this amazing painting, At the Ball, by Morisot, which depicts a woman with a fan. Here, though, the painting is partially, tantalizingly, obscured. If you continue your gaze downward, you’ll be rewarded by a bit of what we assume is an easel, complete with a lovely, paint-spattered brush at the bottom. That brush! I want to hold it.

As one who has carefully studied mid-19th century Parisian art history and its chief players, I greatly admired and enjoyed the story, once I allowed my gaze to stray beyond that fabulous cover. In fact, Butterfield assumes the mantle of our “luministe” as she enlightens us about what it was like to be a painter during a time when respectable women did not paint beyond pretty little scenes to make them seem accomplished to suitable husbands.

Though artist Berthe Morisot sustains a lifelong longing for the unobtainable Edouard Manet, she manages to break free from both society and familial expectations enough to become a painter of note herself in the newly bourgeoning Impressionist movement. In the end, she ultimately finds herself at “repose,” as one of Manet’s paintings of her is titled.

This book is moving, well researched, and told with painstaking detail. It was a delight to read.