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The Lives of the Muses: Nine Women and the Artists They Inspired
The Barnes & Noble Review
In the classical world, the muses -- all nine of them -- were daughters of Zeus who inspired poets, musicians, and other creative types to produce works of genius. Today, says Francine Prose, the word has been weakened and is used almost exclusively to refer to the chic women who help fashion designers inform their latest lines. But in her scholarly account, Prose (a National Book Award finalist for her novel Blue Angel ) presents nine real women who moved men to greatness and who were not mere catalysts but worthy of note on their own, in many cases deserving a share of the credit for the work they helped create.
In the classical world, the muses -- all nine of them -- were daughters of Zeus who inspired poets, musicians, and other creative types to produce works of genius. Today, says Francine Prose, the word has been weakened and is used almost exclusively to refer to the chic women who help fashion designers inform their latest lines. But in her scholarly account, Prose (a National Book Award finalist for her novel Blue Angel ) presents nine real women who moved men to greatness and who were not mere catalysts but worthy of note on their own, in many cases deserving a share of the credit for the work they helped create.
Each chapter is a mini-biography of a woman's life and the way a male artist figured into it. We see the muse as prompter and creator in her own regard, like memoirist Hester Thrale, whose letters to Samuel Johnson helped form his later works. In Alice Liddell, the inspiration for Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the muse is at her most passive, asserting her independence of the child-loving author only by failing to remain seven years old forever. And with Yoko Ono, there is the muse as artist in her own right, who claimed not to have heard of the Beatles before meeting John Lennon, and whose avant-garde tendencies some blamed for his musical downfall.
To hit the mystical nine, Prose stretches a bit. For every Suzanne Farrell collaborating on ballets with George Balanchine, or every Gala Dal� cosigning canvases with spouse Salvador, there are personae only a graduate student would be likely to know. We learn of "serial muse" Lou Andreas-Salom�'s involvement with Friedrich Nietzsche, Rainer Maria Rilke, and Sigmund Freud, and of how Charis Weston had to vie with a toilet for the attentions of her photographer husband, Edward. But these lesser-knowns help make the book a complete analysis of notable women who motivated men of achievement -- usually at the expense of their own -- and lived with the consequences. iKatherine Hottinger/i
448 pages, Paperback
First published September 17, 2002
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About the author
Francine Prose
154 books865 followersFrancine Prose is the author of twenty works of fiction. Her novel A Changed Man won the Dayton Literary Peace Prize, and Blue Angel was a finalist for the National Book Award. Her most recent works of nonfiction include the highly acclaimed Anne Frank: The Book, The Life, The Afterlife, and the New York Times bestseller Reading Like a Writer. The recipient of numerous grants and honors, including a Guggenheim and a Fulbright, a Director's Fellow at the Dorothy and Lewis B. Cullman Center for Scholars and Writers at the New York Public Library, Prose is a former president of PEN American Center, and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. Her most recent book is Lovers at the Chameleon Club, Paris 1932. She lives in New York City.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 116 reviews
November 22, 2019
Interesting, fascinating and most of all thought provoking examination of nine muses who inspired famous artists/writers/performers. Francine Prose does a good job of dissecting the artist/muse relationship. She does not do this in a neutral way though; Prose is opinionated and sharp in judgement: punches are not pulled. Sometimes I vehemently disagreed with her opinions, sometimes she opens new lines of thought about old subjects, but dull it never was.
The muses Prose picks are a very diverse bunch; some better known than others. I knew little about Charis Weston, slightly more about Suzanna Farrell and some were more familiar. I knew about Lou Andreas-Salome and her relationship with Nietzsche and Rilke; I was less aware of her relationship with Sigmund Freud and even Anna Freud.
There is lots of inspiration as you would expect, some innocence and experience, plenty of sex, intrigue and betrayal; a great deal of oddity (a good deal of it in the chapter about the Dali's) and even a spot of S and M. A small prize if you knew that was Hester Thrale and Dr Johnson (I didn't). Hester was the dominant one and she saved one of Dr Johnson's padlocks as a keepsake. Prose really doesn't like Yoko Ono, but she does make some perceptive comments about the virulent and racist reaction to her. She doesn't like her art (annoying) and especially dislikes her attempts at music. However she does explore whether a man can be a muse and looks at the Lennon/Ono relationship as one where it can be argued that there were two muses and two artists. She has some fun with the difference between a muse and an art-wife; the humour and pathos are both well done.
I learnt a lot and disagreed with a lot and would certainly recommend this.
The muses Prose picks are a very diverse bunch; some better known than others. I knew little about Charis Weston, slightly more about Suzanna Farrell and some were more familiar. I knew about Lou Andreas-Salome and her relationship with Nietzsche and Rilke; I was less aware of her relationship with Sigmund Freud and even Anna Freud.
There is lots of inspiration as you would expect, some innocence and experience, plenty of sex, intrigue and betrayal; a great deal of oddity (a good deal of it in the chapter about the Dali's) and even a spot of S and M. A small prize if you knew that was Hester Thrale and Dr Johnson (I didn't). Hester was the dominant one and she saved one of Dr Johnson's padlocks as a keepsake. Prose really doesn't like Yoko Ono, but she does make some perceptive comments about the virulent and racist reaction to her. She doesn't like her art (annoying) and especially dislikes her attempts at music. However she does explore whether a man can be a muse and looks at the Lennon/Ono relationship as one where it can be argued that there were two muses and two artists. She has some fun with the difference between a muse and an art-wife; the humour and pathos are both well done.
I learnt a lot and disagreed with a lot and would certainly recommend this.
November 15, 2011
Prose’s ‘The Lives of the Muses’ is a mediocre take on the worlds of nine women who inspired (respectively) authors, poets, musicians, philisophers, and painters. From the titular Alice in Wonderland (and her Lewis Carrol), to the photographer Man Ray’s infatuation with Lee Miller, females have inspired male artists since the dawn of art. (Prose herself makes the case for the men inspiring the women, but she does not spend nearly enough time proving this thesis.) Also featured are Yoko Ono. Suzanne Farrell, Charis Weson, Gala Dali, Lizzy Siddal, and Lou Andreas-Salome.
Prose’s technique of devoting a chapter to each muse felt uninspired. I would have much preferred Prose to focus on an aspect of musedom itself- the sexuality, the friendship, the backlash from contemporaries – rather than a somewhat flat interpretation of each woman’s life. She barely delves into the art that each muse inspired – rather, assuming that the reader has understood the full complexities of ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and does not need explaination the oeuvre of Salvador Dali.
By focusing on each muse as a manifestation of the person she inspired and the time period she lived in, Prose allows the women and girls to transcend even musedom. These ladies become the manifestations of the time period that they’re entrenched in – Alice Liddel represents the vague pedophilia of the repressive Victorian era. Lizzie Siddal is the Pre-Raphealite’s muse of mystery and defiance. Lou Andreas-Salome, who had her hands full providing banter to Frued, Rilke, and Nietze, is particularly interesting. Prose claims “artists rarely create for the muse, to win or keep the muse’s love and admiration, but rather for themselves, for the world, and for the more inchoate and unquantifiable imperatives of art itself.”
Prose is, as usual, hyper readable. She can weave a fantastic story together while still maintaining an air of mystery. She does each muse justice as characters, if not actual people. This objectification is, perhaps, where she is the most enjoyable to read. She includes a particularly beautiful metaphor that likens the muses to artistic crock-pots: “he muses are merely the instruments that raise the emotional and erotic temperature high enough, churn up the weather in a way that may speed and facilitate the artist’s labors.” This is where I appreciate her the most as a writer, but is ironic that for the muses to inspire her, she must subvert their erotic power for her own, just as the artists who fed off their contemporary muse. Prose must make them something to inspire her art, and the dry paragraphs where she attempts to paint their full lives fall flat.
Prose goes into depth about what constitutes a muse – is it sex? Infatuation? The right relationship at the right time? For each of the artists and muses, the relationships are fraught with tension. Prose made the choice to focus specifically on each relationship, rather then give a lengthy character biography of her subjects. It is interesting to note that this is where she places the importance of her material. I expected a fuller interpretation of the lives of these women: how did each react to the musedom and idolatry thrust upon her? If Prose is to be believed, and that the relationship between the artist and the muse is fraught with tension, she does not give enough evidence.
Overall, Prose’s style was enjoyable but her content fell flat. And writing talent alone is, in my opinion, not enough. When I write, I must make sure to connect myself to interesting content instead of merely coasting on technique.
Prose’s technique of devoting a chapter to each muse felt uninspired. I would have much preferred Prose to focus on an aspect of musedom itself- the sexuality, the friendship, the backlash from contemporaries – rather than a somewhat flat interpretation of each woman’s life. She barely delves into the art that each muse inspired – rather, assuming that the reader has understood the full complexities of ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and does not need explaination the oeuvre of Salvador Dali.
By focusing on each muse as a manifestation of the person she inspired and the time period she lived in, Prose allows the women and girls to transcend even musedom. These ladies become the manifestations of the time period that they’re entrenched in – Alice Liddel represents the vague pedophilia of the repressive Victorian era. Lizzie Siddal is the Pre-Raphealite’s muse of mystery and defiance. Lou Andreas-Salome, who had her hands full providing banter to Frued, Rilke, and Nietze, is particularly interesting. Prose claims “artists rarely create for the muse, to win or keep the muse’s love and admiration, but rather for themselves, for the world, and for the more inchoate and unquantifiable imperatives of art itself.”
Prose is, as usual, hyper readable. She can weave a fantastic story together while still maintaining an air of mystery. She does each muse justice as characters, if not actual people. This objectification is, perhaps, where she is the most enjoyable to read. She includes a particularly beautiful metaphor that likens the muses to artistic crock-pots: “he muses are merely the instruments that raise the emotional and erotic temperature high enough, churn up the weather in a way that may speed and facilitate the artist’s labors.” This is where I appreciate her the most as a writer, but is ironic that for the muses to inspire her, she must subvert their erotic power for her own, just as the artists who fed off their contemporary muse. Prose must make them something to inspire her art, and the dry paragraphs where she attempts to paint their full lives fall flat.
Prose goes into depth about what constitutes a muse – is it sex? Infatuation? The right relationship at the right time? For each of the artists and muses, the relationships are fraught with tension. Prose made the choice to focus specifically on each relationship, rather then give a lengthy character biography of her subjects. It is interesting to note that this is where she places the importance of her material. I expected a fuller interpretation of the lives of these women: how did each react to the musedom and idolatry thrust upon her? If Prose is to be believed, and that the relationship between the artist and the muse is fraught with tension, she does not give enough evidence.
Overall, Prose’s style was enjoyable but her content fell flat. And writing talent alone is, in my opinion, not enough. When I write, I must make sure to connect myself to interesting content instead of merely coasting on technique.
October 29, 2017
In this insightful, brilliantly researched, and immensely enjoyable book the author examines the phenomena of the muse, the individual who focuses or inspires her artist to create, who is a pivot of their creativity. This book does it a bit differently from how you would expect however: exceedingly well written, it looks at nine individual muses beginning in 1766 and ending in 2000 and it questions the relationship in quite individual ways.
What is a muse anyway? We first look at the muses as created in Greek mythology, the divine inspiration for all science, history art and music that they represented in antiquity. But in the nine sections we look at real live women and the poets, artists, photographers and writers they associated with in their lifetimes. The effect that artist had on the life of the woman had on the artist is debated with equal weight as the more traditional view, of what the muse gave to the artist.
The other intersting theme that runs through the book is what a muse means to the era in which she lives. I found this notion very arresting; yes, we know that Alice Liddell inspired Charles Dodgson to write Alice's adventures in wonderland, without thinking about it we know that such an association would be unlikely today. We know that without Gala Dali would have been someone completely different, and who knows what his art would have been? But Francine lightly examines the notion of how an era makes a particular type of muse possible, how the association between artist and muse is dependent on when they happened to be.
More strongly, the book examines the lives of the different women, what being a muse did to them, how some went on to have their own careers as artists, how some never wanted to, how some became wives and what that did to the creativity. I found it all exceptionally fascinating and, even if you never pickup this book they are surely very interesting questions to anyone who is interested in art, writing or the creative process in general.
Of the individual sections some I knew of such as Gala Dali, Alice Liddell and Yoko Ono but was delighted at the different view points that were presented (different view points because the focus in most writing is on the artist, usually). Many of the associations were new to me, I had never heard of Lou Andreas-Salome, though I had of course heard of Nietzsche, Freud and Wagner; her story was fascinating. I had heard of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, but not of his muse ELizabeth Siddal. I had heard of Man Ray but not of the amazingly beautiful woman, Less Miller, whom he photographed and who went on to be a photographer herself: Some of her most haunting images, those of the liberation by the Allies of the concentration camps, I have seen all my life and never knew the fascinating story of the woman who took them (and how amazing is it that there was a woman photographer there and then?).
The stories of Suzanne Farrell, Charis Weston, Hester Thrale were all new to me and the stories are told so brilliantly, they could not come more alive if they were fictionary characters created by the author. But no, they were or are all real people that come to life strong and complex under the very skilled writing of Francine Prose.
The sympathy of the author for many of the women she is writing about is immense, conversely the antipathy (or is it exasperation) that she feels for a couple of them is very restrained. Despite this restraint, if you are a passionate fan of Yoko Ono you may want to skip the last section, her influence on Lennon is not couched in particularly flattering terms, I might have been a bit put off if it was not for the fact that my opinion of Ono has always been somewhat similar and it is nice having ones feelings reinforced.
At the end, this was a brilliantly conceived, well researched and very well written book. Enjoyed it thoroughly.
What is a muse anyway? We first look at the muses as created in Greek mythology, the divine inspiration for all science, history art and music that they represented in antiquity. But in the nine sections we look at real live women and the poets, artists, photographers and writers they associated with in their lifetimes. The effect that artist had on the life of the woman had on the artist is debated with equal weight as the more traditional view, of what the muse gave to the artist.
The other intersting theme that runs through the book is what a muse means to the era in which she lives. I found this notion very arresting; yes, we know that Alice Liddell inspired Charles Dodgson to write Alice's adventures in wonderland, without thinking about it we know that such an association would be unlikely today. We know that without Gala Dali would have been someone completely different, and who knows what his art would have been? But Francine lightly examines the notion of how an era makes a particular type of muse possible, how the association between artist and muse is dependent on when they happened to be.
More strongly, the book examines the lives of the different women, what being a muse did to them, how some went on to have their own careers as artists, how some never wanted to, how some became wives and what that did to the creativity. I found it all exceptionally fascinating and, even if you never pickup this book they are surely very interesting questions to anyone who is interested in art, writing or the creative process in general.
Of the individual sections some I knew of such as Gala Dali, Alice Liddell and Yoko Ono but was delighted at the different view points that were presented (different view points because the focus in most writing is on the artist, usually). Many of the associations were new to me, I had never heard of Lou Andreas-Salome, though I had of course heard of Nietzsche, Freud and Wagner; her story was fascinating. I had heard of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, but not of his muse ELizabeth Siddal. I had heard of Man Ray but not of the amazingly beautiful woman, Less Miller, whom he photographed and who went on to be a photographer herself: Some of her most haunting images, those of the liberation by the Allies of the concentration camps, I have seen all my life and never knew the fascinating story of the woman who took them (and how amazing is it that there was a woman photographer there and then?).
The stories of Suzanne Farrell, Charis Weston, Hester Thrale were all new to me and the stories are told so brilliantly, they could not come more alive if they were fictionary characters created by the author. But no, they were or are all real people that come to life strong and complex under the very skilled writing of Francine Prose.
The sympathy of the author for many of the women she is writing about is immense, conversely the antipathy (or is it exasperation) that she feels for a couple of them is very restrained. Despite this restraint, if you are a passionate fan of Yoko Ono you may want to skip the last section, her influence on Lennon is not couched in particularly flattering terms, I might have been a bit put off if it was not for the fact that my opinion of Ono has always been somewhat similar and it is nice having ones feelings reinforced.
At the end, this was a brilliantly conceived, well researched and very well written book. Enjoyed it thoroughly.
April 5, 2013
Omg I wanted to beat my head in reading this book was doing research on muses was loaned the book to read this book did have a few interesting point but, quite frankly my research online was much more productive then the hours it took me to wade through and force myself to finish this book
December 11, 2010
Whew! Finally finished it. Most of the book is a tedious long slow slog through the lives of partners of tortured artists. By shifting the focus from the creator to the person ostensibly driving and suffering with the artist, the author has perhaps opposite her intended effect. Other than Alice Liddel and to a much less extent Lee Miller and Yoko Ono, the muses seem tangential to the artists lives.
Prose's choice of subjects is arbitrary and disappointing. She mentions in several places Beatrice (Dante's muse) and Zelda (F. Scott Fitzgerald's muse) but doesn't give us a bio of either one. There was no excuse for teasing us with Zelda in the intro and not giving her a place in the book. At the same time she includes many lesser artists and muses. This is an academic book and not one for pleasure. My advice is to skip any muse or artist and focus only on subjects for research.
In the interest of equal opportunity, it would have been nice for Prose to include a male muse. C'mon, there are a few and the counterpoint would have been informative. First that comes to mind is Alan Campbell, Dorothy Parker's second husband, but that's a poor echo to John & Yoko in that Dorothy was already famous and Alan's work as a writer was questionable. A better one would be Dave Coulier as muse to Alanis Morisette.
In short, anyone writing about Lewis Carroll would benefit from checking out Prose's analysis in the foreword, chapter on Alice Lidell and afterword. Other than that, there is not much to see here, folks. Move on. The style she attributes to Yoko Ono plays out here. If you get five minutes into it and it doesn't interest you, turn it back in to the library or don't buy it at the bookstore.
Prose's choice of subjects is arbitrary and disappointing. She mentions in several places Beatrice (Dante's muse) and Zelda (F. Scott Fitzgerald's muse) but doesn't give us a bio of either one. There was no excuse for teasing us with Zelda in the intro and not giving her a place in the book. At the same time she includes many lesser artists and muses. This is an academic book and not one for pleasure. My advice is to skip any muse or artist and focus only on subjects for research.
In the interest of equal opportunity, it would have been nice for Prose to include a male muse. C'mon, there are a few and the counterpoint would have been informative. First that comes to mind is Alan Campbell, Dorothy Parker's second husband, but that's a poor echo to John & Yoko in that Dorothy was already famous and Alan's work as a writer was questionable. A better one would be Dave Coulier as muse to Alanis Morisette.
In short, anyone writing about Lewis Carroll would benefit from checking out Prose's analysis in the foreword, chapter on Alice Lidell and afterword. Other than that, there is not much to see here, folks. Move on. The style she attributes to Yoko Ono plays out here. If you get five minutes into it and it doesn't interest you, turn it back in to the library or don't buy it at the bookstore.
May 1, 2020
This was well written and sporadically interesting. I think the subject of "muse" is slightly misleading if you think of a muse in the sense of a positive inspiration because of lot of these stories are rather depressing. Well, we are talking about artists, aren't we, a lot of them are just pretty weird people in general.
December 13, 2009
The Muses were created 2500 years ago, each of The Nine given a realm in which to inspire: theater, writing, music, dance. Originally 3, they were trebled later. The Romans gave them water nymph duty as well. Shakespeare called upon all; Chaucer, Herodotus, the list is huge.
Prose's nine are modern women, beginning with Alice Liddell, who at 7 began the musedom to Oxford don Charles Dodgson that would result in "Alice's Adventures Under Ground" and later "Through the Looking Glass." The book begins with the elderly Alice Liddell accepting an honorary degree for being a muse. In her acceptance speech, Ms. Liddell, who had not seen the author for decades, spoke of him as though he were still alive and in the room.
As one NY Times reviewer observed, no girl sits on a stoop and dreams of one day becoming a muse. Prose's book reinforces that abstinence. We can hope that a successful muse manages to extricate herself with her physical health intact, and with most of her functioning mental and emotional batteries marginally charged.
There are three who actually nurtured their own art after the artist was either dead or their worshipful gaze removed, and these women make it more comfortable to read about the six whose personal fortunes fared less well.
Prose thinks brilliantly, writes beautifully, and, except for instances where her opinion of the situation is folded into the paragraph, reports cleanly. The concept of The Muses is not one we're familiar with in the 21st century, so her ability to explain, analyze and reveal is a difficult task handled with even-handed skill and aplomb. The selection of pictures to include is exemplary - each tells its own story well.
Prose's nine are modern women, beginning with Alice Liddell, who at 7 began the musedom to Oxford don Charles Dodgson that would result in "Alice's Adventures Under Ground" and later "Through the Looking Glass." The book begins with the elderly Alice Liddell accepting an honorary degree for being a muse. In her acceptance speech, Ms. Liddell, who had not seen the author for decades, spoke of him as though he were still alive and in the room.
As one NY Times reviewer observed, no girl sits on a stoop and dreams of one day becoming a muse. Prose's book reinforces that abstinence. We can hope that a successful muse manages to extricate herself with her physical health intact, and with most of her functioning mental and emotional batteries marginally charged.
There are three who actually nurtured their own art after the artist was either dead or their worshipful gaze removed, and these women make it more comfortable to read about the six whose personal fortunes fared less well.
Prose thinks brilliantly, writes beautifully, and, except for instances where her opinion of the situation is folded into the paragraph, reports cleanly. The concept of The Muses is not one we're familiar with in the 21st century, so her ability to explain, analyze and reveal is a difficult task handled with even-handed skill and aplomb. The selection of pictures to include is exemplary - each tells its own story well.
August 23, 2011
I'm probably being too kind by giving two stars to this book, but then again i usually reserve one star ratings to books i wasn't able to finish. And i did finish this one. It made me angry pretty much throughout it, but i did finish it.
Here's the main thing i don't understand. Why did the author write this book? She seems to have felt contempt and/or pity for most if not all of the women featured here. Why would you spend unknown amounts of time researching someone's life if you didn't respect them or at the very least find them interesting?
Everyone comes off badly here - the artists who for the most part were abusive (in one way or another) and the muses who were almost all either shrews or victims. Suzanne Farrell is about the only muse who gets an even deal in here. Perhaps Ms. Prose should've stuck to writing a biography of just her.
Can't recommend this to anyone really; not art aficionados - stick to reading full-fledged bios of the artists featured in this book, and not women's history fans either. Not unless you enjoy being angry for 300+ pages at everyone featured in it, including the writer.
Here's the main thing i don't understand. Why did the author write this book? She seems to have felt contempt and/or pity for most if not all of the women featured here. Why would you spend unknown amounts of time researching someone's life if you didn't respect them or at the very least find them interesting?
Everyone comes off badly here - the artists who for the most part were abusive (in one way or another) and the muses who were almost all either shrews or victims. Suzanne Farrell is about the only muse who gets an even deal in here. Perhaps Ms. Prose should've stuck to writing a biography of just her.
Can't recommend this to anyone really; not art aficionados - stick to reading full-fledged bios of the artists featured in this book, and not women's history fans either. Not unless you enjoy being angry for 300+ pages at everyone featured in it, including the writer.
April 29, 2013
This is one of my favourite books of all time. Made me fall in love with the creative non-fiction format.
July 28, 2025
3.5 rounded up.
October 10, 2008
Interesting but uncomfortable reading. The "muses" depicted here (everyone from the girl who inspired Alice in Wonderland to Yoko Ono) range from the used and abused to those who were users and abusers themselves.
Each chapter tells a fascinating back-story of fine art, philosophy and literature. Lewis Carroll, Man Ray, Samuel Johnson, Salvador Dali and John Lennon are among the supporting players here who are revealed to be extraordinary artists, but extremely human beings. This book focuses on the ladies who enabled these men to practice their art---women who, in many cases, sacrificed their own careers and well-being for the sake of that art. Francine Prose chronicles these lives in a vivid, brutally honest style which frequently made me flinch, but always held my attention.
What moral emerges from these true-life tales? Fine art comes with a high price tag. And its cost is often paid by those who inspire it.
Each chapter tells a fascinating back-story of fine art, philosophy and literature. Lewis Carroll, Man Ray, Samuel Johnson, Salvador Dali and John Lennon are among the supporting players here who are revealed to be extraordinary artists, but extremely human beings. This book focuses on the ladies who enabled these men to practice their art---women who, in many cases, sacrificed their own careers and well-being for the sake of that art. Francine Prose chronicles these lives in a vivid, brutally honest style which frequently made me flinch, but always held my attention.
What moral emerges from these true-life tales? Fine art comes with a high price tag. And its cost is often paid by those who inspire it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 20, 2009
I've never read Prose's fiction, but love this book! Each essay is a biographical sketch of the relationship between a muse and her artist. Prose does a great job examining the problematic nature of muse relationships, especially for women and the different ways women reacted/profited/grew or were destroyed by/from these associations. The most contemporary muse is Yoko Ono, but honestly while I loved the book so many of the critical observations Prose made in each of the essays seemed to repeat themselves and what seemed brilliant at the beginning started to get tired by the last two essays.
December 13, 2009
This books serves as a fine introduction to the artist/muse concept, but Prose sacrifices a lot of page space to repetition, even though the ideas she explores would benefit from further investigation. Each section recycles ideas from earlier chapters, which would be helpful if she had taken her theories deeper each time, but instead she simply repeats herself... I feel like a strict editor could have been very helpful.
December 9, 2016
DO NOT READ if you want academic insights or thorough research.
This book just adds up to the general sexism attributed to female artists (and former muses), and helps marginalising them.
This book just adds up to the general sexism attributed to female artists (and former muses), and helps marginalising them.
May 12, 2025
Prose highlights women through the years who famously provided inspiration (and in many cases, other types of support, friendship, or companionship) for some of the great minds and creative geniuses of their day.
I wanted to love this. The objective looked like it was to give voice to these women whose talents and minds were often eclipsed by the fame and voices of the men they inspired.
Unfortunately, these stories are *still* mostly told indirectly through the lens of the famous man, and a number of the stories practically simmer with the undisguised contempt the author seems to have for her muse subjects. Yoko Ono for sure comes off the worst, but none of her fellow muses really escape unscathed. Possibly Elizabeth Siddall is given the most grace, as the most victimized. I'm not someone to advocate that women should always support all other women without question, and I fully believe that at least Gala Dali probably deserves most of what is leveled at her (where there's so much smoke, there's probably fire), but I just have to ask: what are we doing here? If this book just piggybacks off views of the time, echoing gossip or criticism that already exists (I'm thinking particularly of Ono here) then what does this really contribute to the discourse?
Of everyone, only Lee Miller is given much credit at all for trying to make her own career, and even then, it's attributed multiple times to her just learning her lessons well from the men she worked with, rather than natural ability. In all other cases, the women are implied to be pretenders, practicing imperfect mimickry (i.e. Salome, Siddall, Ono) or else they're critiqued for being mercenary or opportunist (i.e. Ono, Dali). If the man they inspired gives them any credit at all, the *man* is praised for this, but if the muse tries to claim any credit or seek any kind of equity--it's looked down upon.
Another rough through point seems to be criticizing these women as negligent mothers, though most all of them lived at a time when societal expectations were such that motherhood could scarcely be avoided, no matter what the woman's own inclinations were.
While knocking everyone off their pedestal may make these women more human, how this is done here does these muses little justice and feels like punching down in a number of cases. I feel like we could do better for these women who gave so much.
I wanted to love this. The objective looked like it was to give voice to these women whose talents and minds were often eclipsed by the fame and voices of the men they inspired.
Unfortunately, these stories are *still* mostly told indirectly through the lens of the famous man, and a number of the stories practically simmer with the undisguised contempt the author seems to have for her muse subjects. Yoko Ono for sure comes off the worst, but none of her fellow muses really escape unscathed. Possibly Elizabeth Siddall is given the most grace, as the most victimized. I'm not someone to advocate that women should always support all other women without question, and I fully believe that at least Gala Dali probably deserves most of what is leveled at her (where there's so much smoke, there's probably fire), but I just have to ask: what are we doing here? If this book just piggybacks off views of the time, echoing gossip or criticism that already exists (I'm thinking particularly of Ono here) then what does this really contribute to the discourse?
Of everyone, only Lee Miller is given much credit at all for trying to make her own career, and even then, it's attributed multiple times to her just learning her lessons well from the men she worked with, rather than natural ability. In all other cases, the women are implied to be pretenders, practicing imperfect mimickry (i.e. Salome, Siddall, Ono) or else they're critiqued for being mercenary or opportunist (i.e. Ono, Dali). If the man they inspired gives them any credit at all, the *man* is praised for this, but if the muse tries to claim any credit or seek any kind of equity--it's looked down upon.
Another rough through point seems to be criticizing these women as negligent mothers, though most all of them lived at a time when societal expectations were such that motherhood could scarcely be avoided, no matter what the woman's own inclinations were.
While knocking everyone off their pedestal may make these women more human, how this is done here does these muses little justice and feels like punching down in a number of cases. I feel like we could do better for these women who gave so much.
January 13, 2025
I feel like the author is an unreliable narrator of these stories. I had trouble finding a consistent perspective throughout the book. And in some cases, her judgement seemed profoundly unsound. Her dislike of some of the art (esp. Edward Weston's photos) colored some of her storytelling. Her manifest loathing of Yoko Ono's art took up a LOT of space in that story. She seemed to really want to find a way to blame her for John Lennon's musical output near the end of his life -- the author is not a fan of it! Her contempt for both Yoko and her relationship with Lennon doesn't really add to her credibility.
Although the worst, by far, is her apologist stance toward Lewis Carroll and his very intense grooming behavior with literally hundreds of young girls. He was cut off from his 11-year-old "muse" Alice Liddell by her mother after he photographed her in the nude and crossed several other boundaries. The author seems to feel this was an overreaction!! Nude photographs are just the most obvious of his transgressions with his child "friends." It's appalling and Prose's equivocating about it is inexcusable.
Several of the stories seemed to be just very familiar tales of women taking on immense emotional and other unacknowledged labor on behalf of male artists who didn't necessarily see them as fully human. Which is not as exciting as framing the relationships as "muse" and "artist" but feels more true in some cases.
Although the worst, by far, is her apologist stance toward Lewis Carroll and his very intense grooming behavior with literally hundreds of young girls. He was cut off from his 11-year-old "muse" Alice Liddell by her mother after he photographed her in the nude and crossed several other boundaries. The author seems to feel this was an overreaction!! Nude photographs are just the most obvious of his transgressions with his child "friends." It's appalling and Prose's equivocating about it is inexcusable.
Several of the stories seemed to be just very familiar tales of women taking on immense emotional and other unacknowledged labor on behalf of male artists who didn't necessarily see them as fully human. Which is not as exciting as framing the relationships as "muse" and "artist" but feels more true in some cases.
July 31, 2025
i would give this 4.5 if that was an option on goodreads.
i read this book first maybe eight years ago and have been keen to reread it since. my memory of it was foggy - i had completely forgotten many parts of the book that were affronting to me now. despite that, i remembered a sense of enjoyment and interest, and i found that again this july. the lives of the muses was published in the early 2000s, and discusses nine 'great' muses and the artists they inspired. some of them i hadn't heard of before, and some were familiar (like yoko ono and gala dali). some inspired books (like alice liddell, the inspiration for alice in wonderland) and others ballets, philosophies, photographs. spanning the 1750s to the 1970s (ish), the book is not only a great testimony to womens roles in art, but also of social change. i do feel like the authors feminism is kind of rudimentary, which really showed in the chapter on alice liddell (lewis carroll was giving pedo vibes). despite that, i found it an interesting historical account of varyingly great and renowned artists and their bizarre, unique, intense love lives. i liked what prose said in the introduction, that "the power of longing is often more durable than the thrill of possession", which i think can be extrapolated beyond the artist/muse paradigm. love truly is the source for so much artistic inspiration, passion, theory, pain, everything.
i read this book first maybe eight years ago and have been keen to reread it since. my memory of it was foggy - i had completely forgotten many parts of the book that were affronting to me now. despite that, i remembered a sense of enjoyment and interest, and i found that again this july. the lives of the muses was published in the early 2000s, and discusses nine 'great' muses and the artists they inspired. some of them i hadn't heard of before, and some were familiar (like yoko ono and gala dali). some inspired books (like alice liddell, the inspiration for alice in wonderland) and others ballets, philosophies, photographs. spanning the 1750s to the 1970s (ish), the book is not only a great testimony to womens roles in art, but also of social change. i do feel like the authors feminism is kind of rudimentary, which really showed in the chapter on alice liddell (lewis carroll was giving pedo vibes). despite that, i found it an interesting historical account of varyingly great and renowned artists and their bizarre, unique, intense love lives. i liked what prose said in the introduction, that "the power of longing is often more durable than the thrill of possession", which i think can be extrapolated beyond the artist/muse paradigm. love truly is the source for so much artistic inspiration, passion, theory, pain, everything.
March 20, 2019
I really enjoyed reading this book. Prose's writing is impeccable. It just flows and takes you on a journey into the lives of 9 interesting women. Wow, if we think people are wild today! Not even close, compared to Lou Andreas-Salome and Gala Dali. Each biography was fascinating for its detailed descriptions of not only the women's lives, but the context of the era. I learned a great deal about the artists, from the perspective of their muses. And I was not even clear as to how a muse differs from a lover, before this book. Prose explains that it is a difficult role:"How brave and resourceful the must must be to balance, year after year...to be at once accessible and unobtainable, perpetually present in the mind of the artist and at the same time distant enough to chat a chasm into which the muse's devoted subject is moved to fling propitiatory ritual object: that is, works of art." As the wife of an artist, I found this fascinating. I am certainly not HIS muse, if that is the case, LOL.
The one and only criticism I have of this book is that it could have more illustrations. I wanted to see the paintings referenced. I realize that would have made the volume much larger. So I will just look them up. If one were studying any of the artists influenced by these muses, this book would be a MUST!
The one and only criticism I have of this book is that it could have more illustrations. I wanted to see the paintings referenced. I realize that would have made the volume much larger. So I will just look them up. If one were studying any of the artists influenced by these muses, this book would be a MUST!
January 2, 2025
4.25 “Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood; and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dreams of Wonderland long ago; and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.” about Alice Liddell
It's 11:40am new year's eve 2023 & I am immersed in prose's elucidations of each of these muses - their brilliance, faults, impact. Just finished Lou Andreas-Salome, a virginal (at first anyway) Russian writer and thinker and extraordinary woman who commanded the hearts and minds of Nietzsche, Rilke, and later even Freud. Prose describes how she constructed power via triangulation.. And in the moment, one can't help but wonder, shouldn't we all be doing this?
It's now Jan 1st 11pm and I just finished the Lives. Yoko Ono was the least satisfying but still I learned a lot about John and Yoko's artistry or lack thereof and will to be seen. The lives of Charis Weston and Suzanne Farrell had me scrambling to find imagery and video, of which there is relatively little of the latter but my goodness, how fantastic Suzanne's relationship with Balanchine was. I always knew Lee Miller's name but really, i knew nothing about her -her natural beauty, her relationship with Man Ray, her WWII reinvention as a war photographer and so much in between. And a mini art history class or maybe one should say class in early PR with Gala and Dali.
It's 11:40am new year's eve 2023 & I am immersed in prose's elucidations of each of these muses - their brilliance, faults, impact. Just finished Lou Andreas-Salome, a virginal (at first anyway) Russian writer and thinker and extraordinary woman who commanded the hearts and minds of Nietzsche, Rilke, and later even Freud. Prose describes how she constructed power via triangulation.. And in the moment, one can't help but wonder, shouldn't we all be doing this?
It's now Jan 1st 11pm and I just finished the Lives. Yoko Ono was the least satisfying but still I learned a lot about John and Yoko's artistry or lack thereof and will to be seen. The lives of Charis Weston and Suzanne Farrell had me scrambling to find imagery and video, of which there is relatively little of the latter but my goodness, how fantastic Suzanne's relationship with Balanchine was. I always knew Lee Miller's name but really, i knew nothing about her -her natural beauty, her relationship with Man Ray, her WWII reinvention as a war photographer and so much in between. And a mini art history class or maybe one should say class in early PR with Gala and Dali.
July 7, 2018
I gave up making angry notes in the margins after three chapters. The women are interesting, but Prose decides to focus on their worst parts or the general facts that are known. She contradicts herself ever time - like stating "well generally this and this is written about this woman and that's bad and we should treat her differently" and then continues writing exactly that what she just criticised.
Also I think I just read the umpteenth anecdote of Ruskin's first wedding night, the Elizabeth Siddal in the bath as Ophelia-story, the sexualisation of the early photographs of Alice Liddell and frankly I'm just sick of hearing these tales over and over again when the truth of them is very debatable.
Another side note: why repeatedly mention Beatrice, Camille Claudel and Zelda Fitzgerald if you're not going to write about them anyway?
Lastly: where did the comparison of Dante Gabriel Rossetti with a necrophilia-obsessed teenager come from? WHERE?
Also I think I just read the umpteenth anecdote of Ruskin's first wedding night, the Elizabeth Siddal in the bath as Ophelia-story, the sexualisation of the early photographs of Alice Liddell and frankly I'm just sick of hearing these tales over and over again when the truth of them is very debatable.
Another side note: why repeatedly mention Beatrice, Camille Claudel and Zelda Fitzgerald if you're not going to write about them anyway?
Lastly: where did the comparison of Dante Gabriel Rossetti with a necrophilia-obsessed teenager come from? WHERE?
November 6, 2020
My favorite part of this book was the first few chapters about the history of muses in Greek mythology and the role they have played with great artists. I also enjoyed the overview of all the muses that were covered in the book. When I started to read about each Muse, I found some very interesting and others not at all. For example, Alice Liddell didn't really seem like a muse but more the unfortunate attraction of Carroll's inappropriate attentions. Although the author does not agree that Lewis was a pedophile and makes a good case for her argument. Elizabeth Siddal was muse to Rossetti, but was also an addict--which made her less muse-like and just sad. I think, like with so many magical ideas, it is better to not pull the curtain back on true muses. However, it is a great book with lots of history.
July 2, 2023
Re reading parts of this, and finding out Mark Strand met with the author and gave her the title of the book didn't make me want to give this a better rating. In some ways I now feel it was overwritten for shock value mostly. She seems to take complicated people and make them delightfully weird and vulger. Were they all this bad, I do not know. But I have more sympathy for Yoko Ono and Gala after reading her portrayals of them. Almost feels like she has a grudge against women. I want to read her background and see if anything about her will disclose why the rancour towards these women who in their own right, were important/near genius in the marketing of some of their sick bastard partners.
July 16, 2012
More than simple biographies of women on the outskirts of famous men’s careers, this book offers a fascinating look at the lives of nine women who lived between Shakespeare’s time and the present. The introductory essay discusses the concept of the muse, from the early Greek myths of the nine muses ─ Thalia, Melponene, Euterpe, Erato,Terpsichore, Calliope, Urania, Polyhymnia, and Clio ─ to the modern woman’s role as simultaneous muse and creator. The muses chosen reflect the breadth of women’s social and domestic roles across nearly four centuries; they are not strikingly similar to each other, except in their impact on the lives of their men. The artists they are credited with inspiring cover a cross-section of creative and intellectual endeavours including literature, poetry, photography, painting, philosophy, choreography, and rock music. And yet there are parallels between these muses in unlikely arenas.
Some muses managed to fit their inspirational roles into lives otherwise unremarkable. Hester Thrale housed Dr. Samuel Johnson for nearly two decades, supervising his diet and his health, coaxing him from the depths of depression and psychosis. All the while, she managed her two households amid the dirt and disease of Shakespeare’s London, maintained her arranged marriage to a brewer, birthed and raised and nursed and nurtured and buried a dozen children. Alice Liddell, to whose credit Lewis Carroll laid Through the Looking Glass, had a seemingly normal Victorian vicarage childhood in between posing for distinctly erotic photographs before the lens of a repressed, obsessed Mathematics professor-turned-writer.
Another Victorian beauty, Elizabeth Siddal, was not so fortunate as Alice. Taken up as an artists’ model by the PreRaphaelite Brotherhood, and especially by Dante Gabriel Rossetti whom she later married, Lizzie was valued only for her stunning beauty and her willingness to pose passively under conditions of great personal discomfort. Her long descent into addiction and her tragic, young death expose the dark side of artistic adoration that is now familiar in fashion models and actresses. A century later, society beauty-turned-photographer Lee Miller crawled into a very similar pit, thus demonstrating that it takes more than a successful post-muse artistic career to rebuild a woman after a young lifetime of object-hood.
Lee Miller represents another element of the changing face of musedom. In common with Lou Andreas Salome, she learned sufficient skills at the hands of her artists to become self-supporting through her own endeavours. Yet Lou did not self-destruct. Serially and occasionally simultaneously a muse to philosophers Nietszche and Ree as well as the poet Rilke, and later a cherished disciple of Sigmund Freud, she controlled her devotees more than they controlled her, in ways that served her own ambitions and were utterly foreign to the tragic, conventional muses.
Lou Andreas Salome weathered another pitfall common to muses: she abandoned a devotee, Nietszche, and survived his subsequent vitriolic attacks without loss of self or social group. Hester Thrale was not so lucky. After making a second marriage without the consent or goodwill of Dr. Johnson, she was cut off by him, and thereafter ostracized by the London intellectual and social circles they had inhabited together. Ballerina Suzanne Farrell and her dancer husband both suffered years of artistic exile and desperate unemployment orchestrated by her thwarted devotee, choreographer George Balanchine. Clearly, being left was acceptable in the muse’s repertoire, but leaving was not.
Gala Dali, Charis Weston, and Yoko Ono represent a subgroup of muses-turned-marketers, dedicating efforts to their artistic spouses’ money-making potential. Having committed her husband to a strict series of lucrative painting contracts, Gala Dali was known to lock Salvador into his room when necessary to see that a painting was completed. Charis subsumed her own personality so effectively that, in addition to posing as she was placed, she was able to write articles for sale under her husband’s name, using his ideas and even his phrasing, thus simultaneously improving their income and enhancing his reputation as a photographer. Yoko Ono…but is there anyone alive now who does not know how thoroughly she took over John Lennon’s musical career?
The common threads through these women’s lives, extending through time itself, are balanced by their differences. Unflattering episodes are included in every portrayal, for Ms. Prose treats her subjects with clarity but not necessarily sympathy. Yet, in the end, we learn almost more about the artists than about their muses. The post-muse literature of Hester Thrale and Charis Weston, the photography of Lee Miller, the psychology career of Lou Salome, the musical and artistic stylings of Yoko Ono… these are mentioned almost in passing, as if the lives and accomplishments of these nine remarkable women are secondary to their achievement as inspirations to the most famous men of their ages.
Do not read this book for complete biographies of these beautiful, and often troubled, women. Look instead through this well-crafted window into the complex and ever-fascinating world of creative genius and its accompanying personal chaos, and marvel at the resilience of women.
Some muses managed to fit their inspirational roles into lives otherwise unremarkable. Hester Thrale housed Dr. Samuel Johnson for nearly two decades, supervising his diet and his health, coaxing him from the depths of depression and psychosis. All the while, she managed her two households amid the dirt and disease of Shakespeare’s London, maintained her arranged marriage to a brewer, birthed and raised and nursed and nurtured and buried a dozen children. Alice Liddell, to whose credit Lewis Carroll laid Through the Looking Glass, had a seemingly normal Victorian vicarage childhood in between posing for distinctly erotic photographs before the lens of a repressed, obsessed Mathematics professor-turned-writer.
Another Victorian beauty, Elizabeth Siddal, was not so fortunate as Alice. Taken up as an artists’ model by the PreRaphaelite Brotherhood, and especially by Dante Gabriel Rossetti whom she later married, Lizzie was valued only for her stunning beauty and her willingness to pose passively under conditions of great personal discomfort. Her long descent into addiction and her tragic, young death expose the dark side of artistic adoration that is now familiar in fashion models and actresses. A century later, society beauty-turned-photographer Lee Miller crawled into a very similar pit, thus demonstrating that it takes more than a successful post-muse artistic career to rebuild a woman after a young lifetime of object-hood.
Lee Miller represents another element of the changing face of musedom. In common with Lou Andreas Salome, she learned sufficient skills at the hands of her artists to become self-supporting through her own endeavours. Yet Lou did not self-destruct. Serially and occasionally simultaneously a muse to philosophers Nietszche and Ree as well as the poet Rilke, and later a cherished disciple of Sigmund Freud, she controlled her devotees more than they controlled her, in ways that served her own ambitions and were utterly foreign to the tragic, conventional muses.
Lou Andreas Salome weathered another pitfall common to muses: she abandoned a devotee, Nietszche, and survived his subsequent vitriolic attacks without loss of self or social group. Hester Thrale was not so lucky. After making a second marriage without the consent or goodwill of Dr. Johnson, she was cut off by him, and thereafter ostracized by the London intellectual and social circles they had inhabited together. Ballerina Suzanne Farrell and her dancer husband both suffered years of artistic exile and desperate unemployment orchestrated by her thwarted devotee, choreographer George Balanchine. Clearly, being left was acceptable in the muse’s repertoire, but leaving was not.
Gala Dali, Charis Weston, and Yoko Ono represent a subgroup of muses-turned-marketers, dedicating efforts to their artistic spouses’ money-making potential. Having committed her husband to a strict series of lucrative painting contracts, Gala Dali was known to lock Salvador into his room when necessary to see that a painting was completed. Charis subsumed her own personality so effectively that, in addition to posing as she was placed, she was able to write articles for sale under her husband’s name, using his ideas and even his phrasing, thus simultaneously improving their income and enhancing his reputation as a photographer. Yoko Ono…but is there anyone alive now who does not know how thoroughly she took over John Lennon’s musical career?
The common threads through these women’s lives, extending through time itself, are balanced by their differences. Unflattering episodes are included in every portrayal, for Ms. Prose treats her subjects with clarity but not necessarily sympathy. Yet, in the end, we learn almost more about the artists than about their muses. The post-muse literature of Hester Thrale and Charis Weston, the photography of Lee Miller, the psychology career of Lou Salome, the musical and artistic stylings of Yoko Ono… these are mentioned almost in passing, as if the lives and accomplishments of these nine remarkable women are secondary to their achievement as inspirations to the most famous men of their ages.
Do not read this book for complete biographies of these beautiful, and often troubled, women. Look instead through this well-crafted window into the complex and ever-fascinating world of creative genius and its accompanying personal chaos, and marvel at the resilience of women.
January 5, 2019
Now reading. From the innocent Lewis carroll who sent his child friend a knife suggesting he draw a little blood each birthday, to Man Ray's obsession with his muse, to Rossetti's tempestous affair with his on and off muse whom he drove to laudanum addiction and a premature death to Yoko Ono , to Salvador Dali's mistress, this book deals with nine muses who inspired at sometime their artist or writer friends. Francine Prose is one of a kind and her books are quite amazing and revealing.
September 20, 2018
Good, however
Well written, easy to read and very informative. However, there are no included illustrations of the involved artworks, inspired in the stories. Many are available online, but you have to interrupt you reading to locate and view them; putting the art and story in context.
Well written, easy to read and very informative. However, there are no included illustrations of the involved artworks, inspired in the stories. Many are available online, but you have to interrupt you reading to locate and view them; putting the art and story in context.
Want to read
December 10, 2020So... I'm currently taking an art course for school and for my final I have to analyze ancient pieces of art and I chose a mosaic about the Greek Muses. I had never heard of them but oh my GODS do they sound super cool. I'm already in love.
This book just sounds lovely. Will it rekindle my obsession for Greek mythology?? We shall see (the answer is most probably)
This book just sounds lovely. Will it rekindle my obsession for Greek mythology?? We shall see (the answer is most probably)
September 26, 2023
Great book whose biggest fault is a lack of images and other referenced content. I was able to look up most of the works that interested me, but this book would benefit from becoming an enhanced ebook. Out of the all the women profiled, Lee Miller and Suzanne Farrell are the most interesting. It took me awhile to finish because the last chapter is on Yoko Ono and, no, I didn't look up her work.
October 23, 2023
An interesting book covering 9 women and the men they inspired to produce great art.Most of the muses were not well known to me so I got potted biographies of them with commentary.All were different but important .I particularly liked Hester Thrale.Alice Liddell,Elizabeth Siddal and Zhou Andreas-Salomé.
December 28, 2018
Muses gives you a brief look into the lives of lovers and artists. My biggest take away from this is wanting more information on some of the subjects. I would use this more as note worthy that sit and read cover to cover.
February 8, 2020
Had to curtail reading this. Sad to say, really quite tedious and dry. I was surprised as everything else I've read by Francine Prose has been pretty pithy. Perhaps it was partly because most of the artists discussed except Dali were not that interesting to me.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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