Peacock & Vine: On William Morris and Mariano Fortuny

by A.S. Byatt

From the Booker Prize-winning author: a ravishing, intimate, richly illustrated meditation on two astonishingly original artists whose work--and remarkable lives--have obsessed her for years.

William Morris and Mariano Fortuny were born decades apart in the 19th century. Morris, a wealthy Englishman, was a designer beloved for his floral patterns that grace wallpaper, serving ware, upholstery, and countless other objects even today; Fortuny, a Spanish aristocrat, is now less recognized but was revolutionary in his time, in his ideas about everything from theatrical lighting to women's fashion. Though seeming opposites, these two men of genius and driving energy have long presented a tantalizing juxtaposition to A. S. Byatt; in this delightful book she delves into how their work converses with her across space and time. At once personal, critical, and historical, Peacock & Vine is a gorgeously illustrated tour of their private and public worlds: the women who were their muses; their eccentrically curated homes; the alluring works themselves, and above all what it means to this one brilliant and curious writer, whose signature gift for rendering character and place enlivens every page. Rich with insight and color, this book is itself a work of art, one to savor and treasure.

Genres: Art, Nonfiction, Biography, History, Art History, Biography Memoir, Historical

208 pages, Hardcover

First published July 7, 2016

About the author

A.S. Byatt (Antonia Susan Byatt) is internationally known for her novels and short stories. Her novels include the Booker Prize winner Possession, The Biographer’s Tale and the quartet, The Virgin in the Garden, Still Life, Babel Tower and A Whistling Woman, and her highly acclaimed collections of short stories include Sugar and Other Stories, The Matisse Stories, The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye, Elementals and her most recent book Little Black Book of Stories. A distinguished critic as well as a writer of fiction, A S Byatt was appointed CBE in 1990 and DBE in 1999.

BYATT, Dame Antonia (Susan), (Dame Antonia Duffy), DBE 1999 (CBE 1990); FRSL 1983; Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres (France), 2003 , writer; born 24 Aug. 1936;

Daughter of His Honour John Frederick Drabble, QC and late Kathleen Marie Bloor

Byatt has famously been engaged in a long-running feud with her novelist sister, Margaret Drabble, over the alleged appropriation of a family tea-set in one of her novels. The pair seldom see each other and each does not read the books of the other.

Married
1st, 1959, Ian Charles Rayner Byatt (Sir I. C. R. Byatt) marriage dissolved. 1969; one daughter (one son deceased)
2nd, 1969, Peter John Duffy; two daughters.

Education
Sheffield High School; The Mount School, York; Newnham College, Cambridge (BA Hons; Hon. Fellow 1999); Bryn Mawr College, Philadelphia, USA; Somerville College, Oxford.

Academic Honours:
Hon. Fellow, London Inst., 2000; Fellow UCL, 2004
Hon. DLitt: Bradford, 1987; DUniv York, 1991; Durham, 1991; Nottingham, 1992; Liverpool, 1993; Portsmouth, 1994; London, 1995; Sheffield, 2000; Kent 2004; Hon. LittD Cambridge, 1999

Prizes
The PEN/Macmillan Silver Pen Of Fiction prize, 1986 for STILL LIFE
The Booker Prize, 1990, for POSSESSION
Irish Times/Aer Lingus International Fiction Prize, 1990 for POSSESSION
The Eurasian section of Best Book in Commonwealth Prize, 1991 for POSSESSION
Premio Malaparte, Capri, 1995;
Mythopoeic Fantasy Award for Adult Literature, California, 1998 for THE DJINN IN THE NIGHTINGALE''S EYE
Shakespeare Prize, Toepfer Foundation, Hamburg, 2002;

Publications:
The Shadow of the Sun, 1964;
Degrees of Freedom, 1965 (reprinted as Degrees of Freedom: the early novels of Iris Murdoch, 1994);
The Game, 1967;
Wordsworth and Coleridge in their Time, 1970 (reprinted as Unruly Times: Wordsworth and Coleridge in their Time, 1989);
Iris Murdoch 1976
The Virgin in the Garden, 1978;
GEORGE ELIOT Selected Essays, Poems and Other Writings , 1979 (editor);
Still Life, 1985
Sugar and Other Stories, 1987;
George Eliot: selected essays, 1989 (editor)
Possession: a romance, 1990
Robert Browning''s Dramatic Monologues, 1990 (editor);
Passions of the Mind, (essays), 1991;
Angels and Insects (novellas),1992
The Matisse Stories (short stories),1993;
The Djinn in the Nightingale''s Eye: five fairy stories, 1994
Imagining Characters, 1995 (joint editor);
New Writing 4, 1995 (joint editor);
Babel Tower, 1996;
New Writing 6, 1997 (joint editor);
The Oxford Book of English Short Stories, 1998 (editor);
Elementals: Stories of fire and ice (short stories), 1998;
The Biographer''s Tale, 2000;
On Histories and Stories (essays), 2000;
Portraits in Fiction, 2001;
The Bird Hand Book, 2001 (Photographs by Victor Schrager Text By AS Byatt);
A Whistling Woman, 2002
Little

Reviews

[Diane S ☔ · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 Byatt's musings on Fortuna and Morris, not of the same generation, not even the same country and yet, both men who were their art. A beautifully packaged book, the pictures glorious, the writing almost surreal, not entirely cohesive and yet for me this suited the book as a whole. Will admit enjoying the first part of the book more than the second, but it was all an interesting read. Their personal lives, the people they met, so many notables of the time periods, their houses, Morris's being almost as famous as the man. The many things they created, never knew how many before reading this, their interests wide and varied. This is one cloak in this book that I would love to have, it is exquisite. The wallpaper designs, makes me want to wallpaper again though that has quite gone out of fashion. A very satisfying reading experience.

[Davide · Rating 4 out of 5]

[2017]
Da troppo tempo ormai aspettiamo un nuovo romanzo da Antonia Byatt (sarà quello annunciato su surrealisti e psicanalisti tra la prima e la seconda guerra mondiale?); direi, da The Children's Book (2009), perché Ragnarök non conta. E non conta come romanzo nemmeno questo Peacock & Vine; però chi oserebbe lamentarsi quando riceve la possibilità di chiacchierare un paio di giorni con Byatt su William Morris e Mariano Fortuny, sul verde dei boschi inglesi e la luce acquamarina di Venezia, sulle case e i giardini, sull'attrazione dei colori e le forme del lavoro creativo?

Un saggio (con tutte le sue ecfrasi, qualche accenno di personal essay e soprattutto la forma, aperta alla divagazione, del ritratto a specchio) che diventa uno splendido libro. Non ho visto l'edizione inglese, ma quella italiana è bellissima, con immagini ottimamente scelte, curate, in un formato particolarmente adatto (collana «Frontiere» di Einaudi: come un Supercorallo più largo, più quadrato), che invita al rallentamento della lettura e all'indugio nella visione.
Gioia oculare.

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is really more of an essay than a book, a fact that Byatt does acknowledge. There is quite a bit of Byatt in here. It's more of a mediation on the two artists than anything. Still a fascinating read.

[Jan Priddy · Rating 1 out of 5]

I hoped to love this. I am a fan of Byatt, Morris, and Fortuny. It was one of those how-bad-could-it-be scenarios. It is mostly not good. It is poorly researched rehash of more comprehensive nonfiction about these two great craftsmen. Read the Wikipedia entries for Morris and Fortuny and then look for images online. The illustrations here are small and the captions only at the end of this little book; better illustrations are easy to find with a Google search.

Did I find anything useful or interesting? Yes, I did here and there. What I liked: finding out that Fortuny created theatrical lighting as we know it today, and also a great deal of biographical information about the two designers. I had not known how connected Morris was to Iceland. On the other hand, I could have simply read the Wikipedia entries for them and learned more. I found no great insight here. I found quotes from other books, photos inferior to what I've picked up from Pinterest, and sloppy research.

I think it is one thing to describe paintings, rooms, and textiles that one has actually seen, quite another to describe what one has only seen in photographs. If I were writing a book on Fortuny and I were spending time in Italy and I wanted to talk about an item on public view, I would actually go look at it not pick up a book about Fortuny and rehash what is already available. I can look at photographs and make my own observations. I would expect to have something original and of value to offer.

Byatt describes images shared in this book in detail (more about this in a moment) and also some paintings, rooms, and textiles that are not pictured. There is a problem with her descriptions. For example, on pages 50-51 is a Fortuny painting of salon at Palazzo Pesaro Orfei c. 1940. She describes "a piece of furniture with a startling turquoise pattern," but it looks to me like a turquoise fabric draped over the tall chest. It matches the color of a drapery on the other side of the room. On page 126, Byatt describes an image of Morris's "Fruit" wallpaper of 1864, which she seems to assume is meant to show only pomegranates as "dubious—is it a fruit, is it a pomegranate? . . . [some of the fruits] are more like lemons . . . " The pattern shows four branches, each with a different fruit, flower, and leaf. Some of the fruits fail to resemble pomegranates and instead look like lemons because that is what they are supposed to be. The wallpaper pattern is of four fruits: pomegranates, lemons, (probably) oranges, as well as peaches with what Byatt describes as the mysterious "shapes with two cheeks." The image shown most closely resembles "Blue Fruit" or "Pomegranate" Wallpaper Design, 1866, in the Victoria and Albert Museum. She also referred to Icelandic horses as "ponies" but perhaps Morris did too. Horses. They are always called horses by Icelanders.

https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&r...

The cover is pretty and I enjoy small books (this one is 6 x 7 inches), but the size does not do justice to the images, and captions for the illustrations are at the back of the book, which meant I was having to flip back and forth. On top of this, Byatt tends to repeat herself and in a book of this brevity, that seems at least unnecessary if not the result of inattentiveness. (There are typos too.) Perhaps she needed to pay for a new roof?

[Ярослава · Rating 4 out of 5]

Біографічний нарис про Вільяма Морріса й Мар'яно Фортуні пера невимовно прекрасної А.С. Баєтт, себто насправді дуже self-indulgent нарис про саму А.С. Баєтт, про її любов до ремісників і речей (привіт, "Дитяча книга"), про її любов до екфрастичних описів із болісними довгими спробами точно описати кольори невізуальними засобами, доки слова не втрачають сенс і не перетворюються на звукопис (привіт, "Still Life" & "Elementals"), про її радість від перебирання цитат (стрибки від Пруста до Раскіна до прерафаелітів і назад). Нічого принципово нового там нема, але якщо ви любите Баєтт, то це текст Баєтт, його легко любити:) Тим паче, немала імовірність, що це стане її останнім текстом і мені від цього плакати хочеться, хоча он з Еко теж здавалося, що "Празький цвинтар" (будьмо відверті, невдалий роман) стане його останнім текстом, аж ні.
Крім того, дуже приємне видання - тканинна палітурка з тисненням, гарні репродукції, гарна верстка, око тішиться.

[Philippe · Rating 3 out of 5]

This nicely produced booklet is hardly more than an appetizer. The mini-essays included are not particularly profound, neither from a biographical nor from an art historical perspective, but they wet my appetite for deeper research. And it's always a pleasure to immerse oneself in things Venetian. I read the Dutch translation, which struck me as rather wooden. Some uncareful editing here and there (notably transcription errors in French quotations from Proust).

[Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think the only thing William Morris and Mariano Fortuny have in common is that A.S. Byatt likes them; but so do I (and I like A.S. Byatt) so I enjoyed this beautifully illustrated compare-and-contrast essay. The pictures are uncaptioned because they fall exactly in the text where you need them. It's a beautiful little book.

[Hermien · Rating 3 out of 5]

A recent visit to Palazzo Fortuny inspired me to read this attractive little book. It whet my appetite for more.

[Kate Forsyth · Rating 3 out of 5]

This beautiful little hardcover book was a gift from a writer friend of mine who knew of my fascination with William Morris and the Pre-Raphaelites. It is an extended personal essay, in which A.S. Byatt shares with us her personal response to the lives of two men whose art and creativity echoed each other in interesting ways. The first is William Morris, one of the founders of the Arts and Crafts movement and a poet who refused to become Queen Victoria’s Poet Laureate. Nowadays he is best known as the designer of beautiful intricate wallpapers and fabrics. The second subject is Mariano Fortuny, the aristocratic Spanish fashion designer and artist who lived and worked in a palazzo on the Grand Canal in Venice. They were not really contemporaries – Morris died in 1896 in London and Fortuny was born in 1871 in Granada – and they never met. However, A.S. Byatt finds interesting correlations between the two men, and the book is enriched with beautiful photographs of both of their work. I love books like this, which illuminate art and history and creativity in such interesting and unexpected ways, and which are themselves are work of art.

[Theresa · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolute jewel of a book!

A.S. Byatt, long a lover of the quintessentially British work and design of William Morris, visits Venice and sets out to learn more about the work of the quintessentially Mediterranean designer Mariano Fortuny, born a generation after Morris. What she discovers is that each inevitably brings to mind the other.

The book is richly illustrated with images of most of the specific works discussed at length. In addition are photographs of their respective homes, workspaces, and wives, all of which play an important role in each artisan's development.

This little book is not only for those enamored of either Morris or Fortuny, but also for all intrigued by craft, design, artisan process, textile, embroidery, or Proust. That's right, Proust and his grand work 'A La Recherche Du Temps Perdu' are discussed as Fortuny is the only living artist given recognition in the story, and in an influential way.

I read this as my book with pictures for the 2017 Pop Sugar Reading Challenge.
.

[Sam · Rating 3 out of 5]

This reads like two long magazine articles -- one about William Morris and the other about Mariano Fortuny -- that have been mashed together for comparison and contrast. Some of the descriptions read like an auction catalog of a museum plaque. I got proof of this book as an advance reader copy; that was tiny -- six or seven inches on each side, and thin. The illustrations were all in black and white. Byatt's writing is, of course, good. Eventually it occurred to me that this tiny black-and-white thing would ultimately be released in a big, colored edition -- it would make an excellent coffee table book for a fan of Morris and/or Fortuny.

[Ffiamma · Rating 4 out of 5]

mariano fortuny e william morris- all'apparenza figure diversissime, con vite profondamente differenti e tuttavia uniti dall'importanza nella ricerca estetica, nell'innovazione nelle arti applicate e da alcuni temi presenti nei loro lavori. in questo breve saggio, la byatt racconta e documenta due artisti da lei amati, con un testo semplice e pieno di amore, molte immagini e una ricca bibliografia. edizione inglese bellissima e molto curata (e, a differenza della costosa einaudi, reperibile a un prezzo contenuto). per me, un gioiello.

[Kim · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked this up secondhand at a bookfair because I have an interest in Morris, Venice and A.S Byatt's writing. It is also a gorgeously produced little book.
I was spurred onto read it because there is a gorgeous Pre-Raphelite exhibition at the National Gallery of Australia and it seemed like a good time to read it.
It did give me a taste of all those things plus I learnt a little about Fortuny's textile art. There are also some quotes of Ruskin and Proust that were interesting.
Really needed more depth for a higher rating but it was good none the less.

[Ryan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Review is of the uncorrected proof, received as a giveaway (thanks!).

Not a biography, nor a proper monograph (especially true for the uncorrected proof, which lacks full size plates and color, which is a shame sense the author's perception of color is a central concern), the intent of this extended essay is somewhat unclear; none-the-less, it is a good introduction to both figures, with a personal touch revealing what it is about each man that appeals to the author:

"E.M. Forster once remarked sagaciously that novelists do not give work the importance it has in real life, not as much as love and death. And here I had not one but two obsessive workers, endlessly inventive, endlessly rigorous, endlessly beautiful. They both made the place where they lived identical with the place where they worked. They were both hands-on, with the dyeing and pleating, with the block-printing, with research about how to do things differently or better. They both invented new colours and resurrected old and discarded ones, using vegetable dyes not aniline ones (on the whole). They researched their subject with passion, and had large libraries, specialist and general."

The book is spare and precise both in observations and in language. The structure is deceptively casual as well, with each man's residences, spouses, muses, motifs, personal geography, and so on forming brief chapters, usually as a means of comparison - the points of intersection, and divergence always illuminating. There are many specific works discussed, but always with equal measures of focus and brevity.

I came away from the book with a renewed appreciation for textiles as works of art, and a deeper appreciation of Morris, especially as a writer, but also as a person - of particular resonance was his commitment to every endeavor he laid his hand to, despite his admitted shortcomings therein (his initial mediocrity as a draftsman, as an equestrian/explorer, as a polyglot, etc. didn't stop him from engaging in activities that demanded these skills).

[Marilee · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have been fascinated by the work of Mariano Fortuny for many years, after seeing a museum exhibit featuring many of his garments and fabrics. I was spell bound by his Delphos dresses which look like translucent liquid pourings over a body shape. As a sewer who loves beautiful fabric as others love fine wines or paintings. I researched high and low how Fortuny created the permanent silk pleats inspired by classic greek drapery, but the process is lost. The dresses are still occasionally worn by owners ... amazingly still intact, beyond fashion fads and stored when not worn twisted into a bundle. Some are in museum fashion collections.

Fortuny also created amazing stenciled velvet cloaks and garments that glow as it printed in silver and gold metallic despite no metal in the paint or dyes. This process is also lost.

William Morris mostly created decorative fabrics, designs based on plants and animals, lush and alive with color.

The two men lived a century apart, but taken together, Author A.S Byatt explores their common grounds, inventive and enduring legacies of textile arts.

[Patricia · Rating 4 out of 5]

"So I embarked on an essay without knowing what I should find." Byatt makes an essay as foray, a genuine act of exploration, a sort of meandering way that leads to seeing unsuspected connections and perspectives. I don't know that I got the comparison between Fortuny and Morris, but never mind because it was just fun listening to Byatt look at a painting, tapestry, or fabric. Her description is full of a relish for beauty, and attention to color, pattern, and detail.

The design and illustrations make this little book is a gem. There are almost tangible textures and Morris blues to sink into. The arts and crafts typeface was a joy.

And for anyone wanting more about Morris, Fiona MacCarthy's William Morris: A Life for Our Times (which Byatt frequently draws on ) is truly an epitome among biographies.

[Ghost of the Library · Rating 4 out of 5]

Having been my first experience reading a.s. byatt i have to say i kind of hoped for more...whatever more is.
However that does not stop me from saying this is a little gem of a book - lovely pictures and many examples of Morris and Fortuny´s work. i wont bore you all with a description of who the two men were...many here have done it much better than i ever could.
This is not however, hence my disappointment no doubt, a proper biography of the two men. Consider it more of an essay on how these men and their work affected/influenced the author.
Not a bad book...but probably a wrong first choice for such a popular author.....oh well, living and learning!

[Susan Liston · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have bogged down in both attempts to read novels by AS Byatt due to her excessive wordiness. I did manage a book of her short stories, and this is only 181 pages, so when kept in check her writing is good. Morris and Fortuny don't have anything in particular in common, they just happen to be favorites of hers, this is actually a sort of ode to the two of them.It makes a nice introduction. I am quite familiar with Morris, but wasn't so much with Fortuny. Overall this is a lovely little book.

[Rowizyx · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ho letto questo libro con molto piacere ma anche un po’ di rammarico, pensando che questo sia di fatto l’ultimo scritto (a parte una raccolta di racconti) pubblicato da A.S. Byatt, un’autrice di cui mi sono innamorata con Possessione e che ho adorato con Il libro dei bambini.

Tanti come me attendevano un nuovo romanzo (l’ultimo risale al 2009) e la notizia della sua morte nel 2023 mi ha molto turbato. In queste pagine ho ritrovato il suo acume e tanti punti della sua poetica (uno sguardo a tutto tondo sull’arte, specie a quelle discipline considerate minori o artigianato) nel suo sguardo su due artisti che conoscevo per nulla (Fortuny) o molto poco (Morris, uno dei “preraffaelliti minori”). È un periodo che mi capitano saggi un po' memorialistici, il che in genere mi infastidisce, in questo caso le suggestioni delle Byatt l'hanno portata a un parallelismo penso abbastanza inedito tra due artisti che con metodi e obiettivi diversi hanno creato qualcosa di originale. Penso a Morris un po' bullizzato dai suoi amici – in particolare da quel cane di Rossetti, tanto bravo a dipingere quanto umanamente orrendo (una sorta di Dorian Gray..?), che a una certa non solo ha una relazione con la moglie di Morris MA SI INSTALLA A CASA LORO – innamorato dell'Islanda e della mitologia nordica, osservatore della natura e capace di superare i suoi limiti nel disegno per creare pattern per carte da parati e tessuti molto suggestivi. Fortuny è stata una assoluta sorpresa, non credo di averlo mai sentito nominare prima di questo libro (proverò a mettere la sua casa museo nell'itinerario della prossima gita a Venezia), ma già gli voglio bene per creare vestiti adatti a tutti i corpi (anche se troppo lunghi). Gli perdono fin di essere un wagneriano convinto xD

L’autrice traccia dei parallelismi tra i due sottolineandone le differenze ma anche i punti di contatto, quasi posseduta da entrambi. Molto affascinante, grazie anche alla particolare edizione quasi quadrata di Einaudi, che da un respiro insolito alle immagini, permettendo al lettore di perdersi nei pattern dei tessuti e delle carte da parati. Ho apprezzato questo viaggio in forme d'arte spesso snobbate, un po' perché appunto, si mischiano con l'artigianato e un po' perché sono meno d'impatto. Una Proserpina di Rossetti ci farà sempre sussultare, probabilmente, ma le melagrane di questi artisti non sono meno intriganti.

Grazie, Antonia. Ho comprato questo libro di getto quando ho saputo della tua morte e l'ho tenuto due anni sullo scaffale non sentendomi pronta a dirti addio. Rileggo Possessione regolarmente e spero sempre che prima o poi Einaudi ristampi Il libro dei bambini... ma chissà, magari lo comprerò in inglese e cercherò di seguirti nella tua lingua madre. E m'impegno a finire la saga di Frederica anche se il Quartetto mi è un po' ostico. Ormai dovrei ricominciare da capo. Mi intristisce davvero pensare che non pubblicherai più nulla. Grazie.

[Jerry · Rating 4 out of 5]

We were in Venice in April and I was drunk on aquamarine light. It is an airy light, playing with the moving dark surfaces of the canals, shining on stone and marble, bringing both together in changing ways, always aquamarine. I found that an odd thing was happening to me. Every time I closed my eyes—which I increasingly did deliberately—I saw a very English green, a much more yellow green, composed of the light glittering on shaved lawns, and the dense green light in English woods, light vanishing into gnarled tree trunks, flickering on shadows on the layers of summer leaves.

This is a series of personal essays on William Morris and the Italian artist Mariano Fortuny, two different generations of artists who mixed the commercial with the ideal. She’s trying to translate this into the vision of a writer, how art is created, weaved, or with the illusion of weaving. There is also a sense of gossip, at least about Morris and how he handled the strangeness in his private life.

When I began this essay I didn’t know how much it was going to age about another thing that obsesses me as a reader and a writer: Work. E.M. Forster once remarked sagaciously that novelists do not give work the importance it has in real life, not as much as love and death. And here I had not one but two obsessive workers, endlessly inventive, endlessly rigorous, endlessly beautiful. They both made the place they lived identical with the place they worked.

In keeping with that, the book itself is beautifully constructed, both in its semi-velvet hardcover binding of dark, vertically-woven green and in the font chosen, Golden Cockerel, which itself has a history in the Arts & Crafts movement. The photos are also well-chosen, and in what must have been a stylistic choice are not sullied by labels describing who or what they depict. This is usually knowable from the text, but if not the images can be looked up in a list in the back of the book.

Morris famously said, ‘If you want a golden rule that will fit everybody this is it: have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.’

[GraceAnne · Rating 4 out of 5]

There was a time when I could have, and would have, devoured a book like this. Byatt, with her rich and brilliant prose, thinking on the page about art, and work, and William Morris in greeny England, and Mariano Fortuny in aquamarine Venice. I don't have the concentration for it now, although I loved the pictures and I loved allowing my eyes to fall upon the page and read a paragraph here and a sentence there. It's damned hard to hold a hardcover now, even one in the small, almost square format that I love. These are artists, all three of them, worth spending some time with.

[James Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sumptuous.

[Kim · Rating 3 out of 5]

Probably would have given this 4 stars if I had not been reading on a Kindle. Impossible to fully appreciate the sumptuous designs of both Morris and Fortuny in tiny B&W Kindle illustrations, though Byatt's prose is up to the task.

[Lirya Rigel · Rating 3 out of 5]

L'accostamento fra Morris e Fortuny mi sembra molto forzato e questo libro non riesce proprio a farmi cambiare idea, anche perchè ogni capitolo è diviso in due metà ben separate e non c'è nemmeno una frase che inizi con la parola "entrambi"; eccezion fatta per l'ultimo, in cui però l'autrice espone delle opinioni personali e non dei fatti, peraltro facendo accostamenti come "entrambi si sporcavano le mani" o "entrambi hanno inventato colori nuovi", che però sono affermazioni applicabili a praticamente la maggior parte degli artisti mai esistiti.
Lo stile di scrittura, che sembra quasi un appunto fatto di getto su un taccuino, è molto coinvolgente ed accattivante, si fa leggere ed assimilare velocemente.

[Helen · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a slightly strange little book; definitely in the category of secondary material rather than anything original (the sections on Morris lean heavily on Fiona MacCarthy's biography, which is acknowledged). The interesting bit is the attempt to draw parallels between Morris and Fortuny, who were not really connected at all and came from different times and places. The book is nicely produced, using Golden Cockerel type, and is a nice size to hold (a small and nearly square hardback). The illustrations are pretty and have made me want to go back and have another look at Morris's designs (the captions are at the back so you have to flip backwards and forwards which is a bit inconvenient). There's a short list of books on both men, and really this volume is a personal essay on them both (not sure whether they really fit together despite some common characteristics). It's a starting point which might inspire the reader to look for fuller information elsewhere (the sort of little book which one comes across by chance and which I am so going to miss when the local library loses its non fiction section, as I probably wouldn't have sought this one out elsewhere).

[Nancy · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is a nice comparison study of the two artists. They did have similar design themes they both used. It gives enough background so you now who, and when, these two men are. You get the idea they both had their hands in more than one craft. The one drawback is the images. There is a list in the back of the book on what each image is. But the problem is that the images are not placed in the text opposite the same page that mentions that image. And no image has any indication on it's page of what you are looking at. This means some serious guess work to decide if this is the image to go with the text 6 pages after it or not. And that list in the back, no page numbers of where it is in the text are listed so that won't help you. It is a nice read. It is generously spaced and is a quick read. If you only know of one of the men then you will learn a nice overview of the other. Most of the images, and the book, are about the textiles the men created. Do not expect to see many paintings in here.

[Abigail · Rating 4 out of 5]

A non-fiction from Byatt that focus on the talents of William Morris and Mariano Fortuny (no, i'd never heard of him either).
Byatt's interest focuses on the beautiful designs created by both and has some great illustrations.
I also learnt that Morris had a longstanding friendship and business partnership with Dante Gabriel Rossetti, despite Rossetti having a long-term affair with Morris's wife Jane who was the source of inspiration for most of the female images he painted.
Lastly, both Morris and Fortuny were formidable artists - Morris learnt old-fashioned embroidery techniques by unpicking a piece of work and starting again. Fortuny's gowns are exquisite silks - mentioned several times by Proust, funeral attire for Susan Sontag - with colour dyes and pleating invented by the man himself.
A delightful little read.

[Lynne · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was excited to read a book comparing the work of Fortuny and Morris, but the execution of the concept fell short. The book is too brief to do justice to the artists and yet seems interminably long, owing to its dull writing style. It's beautifully designed and produced, aside from the fact that the illustrations have no captions and don't always appear near the relevant text. Overall, a great disappointment.

[Salvatore · Rating 4 out of 5]

Still beautiful the second time around!

Just in time for the Manus x Machina show at the Met, which features some Fortuny dresses, which made this book's entire argument suddenly click for me. Thus the re-read.

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(September 2015) Beautiful!

[Cynthia Frazer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I want to return to London and Venice with this book in hand, to see them through this borrowed lens.