What do you think?
Rate this book
Burne-Jones Talking: His Conversations, 1895-98, Preserved by His Studio Assistant Thomas Rooke
Libro usado en buenas condiciones, por su antiguedad podria contener señales normales de uso
208 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1982
1 person want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 of 1 review
June 13, 2021
My rating reflects the fact that I just flat-out loved these conversations from over a hundred years ago more than any judgment on the merits of this edition of Thomas Rooke's notes. Although I did enjoy the presentation, with its little Burne-Jones cartoons, photographic insert, and "interlude" editorials that described how the conversations fitted into important events in Burne-Jones's life.
This book was mentioned in Fiona MacCarthy's excellent biography, The Last Pre-Raphaelite: Edward Burne-Jones and the Victorian Imagination; I bought it because I was inventing a great artist for a book I'm writing and wanted to get inside Burne-Jones's head. Whether I've actually done that is doubtful, since Rooke was hardly an impartial observer and much editing and deleting has gone on since he originally wrote these notes, but I did get a good sense of who Burne-Jones was, I think.
And who was he? A conventional thinker in many ways, but also an artistic genius who was once at the forefront of some major Victorian trends in art. A man who knew pretty much anyone who was anyone in art and literature in the late nineteenth century, and who had some very definite opinions on both his contemporaries and his predecessors. An artist who could feel his market slipping away, being swallowed up by the Impressionists whom he despised, and who knew that he was moving into his final years as an artist. He speaks at several points about feeling less relevant than he'd like to be.
He was in his final years as a human being too; Rooke recorded his conversations up till the day before his sudden death in 1864, until which moment he was fully at work. Did he know that death was looming? Possibly; he'd had quite a few health problems and his great friend William Morris died in 1896, sounding that warning bell that those of us often hear clanging away. I think it's significant that he finished some of his major works, like Love Leading the Pilgrim, during the period recorded by Rooke, although it's possible he simply had the time to do it now that he'd made a reasonable amount of money during his years of great popularity.
Whether accurate or not, I enjoyed the personality that Rooke paints in words. Burne-Jones comes across as businesslike, undramatic, modest about his achievements yet still with that underlying conviction that they had value. His wife Georgie makes many appearances, too, and I bless Rooke for portraying her as the intelligent, firm character she undoubtedly was instead of erasing her from history's view.
In short, I could read this book all over again and probably get even more out of it. Thank you, little Rookie (an appellation that undoubtedly owed more to affection than condescension).
This book was mentioned in Fiona MacCarthy's excellent biography, The Last Pre-Raphaelite: Edward Burne-Jones and the Victorian Imagination; I bought it because I was inventing a great artist for a book I'm writing and wanted to get inside Burne-Jones's head. Whether I've actually done that is doubtful, since Rooke was hardly an impartial observer and much editing and deleting has gone on since he originally wrote these notes, but I did get a good sense of who Burne-Jones was, I think.
And who was he? A conventional thinker in many ways, but also an artistic genius who was once at the forefront of some major Victorian trends in art. A man who knew pretty much anyone who was anyone in art and literature in the late nineteenth century, and who had some very definite opinions on both his contemporaries and his predecessors. An artist who could feel his market slipping away, being swallowed up by the Impressionists whom he despised, and who knew that he was moving into his final years as an artist. He speaks at several points about feeling less relevant than he'd like to be.
He was in his final years as a human being too; Rooke recorded his conversations up till the day before his sudden death in 1864, until which moment he was fully at work. Did he know that death was looming? Possibly; he'd had quite a few health problems and his great friend William Morris died in 1896, sounding that warning bell that those of us often hear clanging away. I think it's significant that he finished some of his major works, like Love Leading the Pilgrim, during the period recorded by Rooke, although it's possible he simply had the time to do it now that he'd made a reasonable amount of money during his years of great popularity.
Whether accurate or not, I enjoyed the personality that Rooke paints in words. Burne-Jones comes across as businesslike, undramatic, modest about his achievements yet still with that underlying conviction that they had value. His wife Georgie makes many appearances, too, and I bless Rooke for portraying her as the intelligent, firm character she undoubtedly was instead of erasing her from history's view.
In short, I could read this book all over again and probably get even more out of it. Thank you, little Rookie (an appellation that undoubtedly owed more to affection than condescension).
Displaying 1 of 1 review