“I know what they’ll say. ‘That girl and her temper.’ For I’m a little girl when they want to belittle me, a woman when they want me to bear a child.”
I want to start my review of Blood Water Paint with that quote from page 110, because it is so powerful and shows why language matters. There are different connotations when it comes to referring to others as “girl,” “woman,” “boy,” or “man.” In this instance, the word “girl” is associated with immaturity and naïveté. Meanwhile, the word “woman” is associated with maturity and being a nurturer. Those differences in connotation—even subtle, contribute to implicit sexism. There are modern-day examples of this as well, such as calling a 23-year-old female a girl while calling a 21-year-old male a man. And I think my interpretation of that quote really sets the tone for this book review.
TW: References to rape, sexism, and suicide ideation. Read at your own risk.
Synopsis: Originally a play, Blood Water Paint is a historical fiction novel that centers around Italian Baroque artist Artemisia Gentileschi (1593-1653). Written by Joy McCullough, a series of poems express Gentileschi’s struggles with misogyny, rape culture, grief over her mother’s death, and lack of recognition in 17th century Rome. There are also free verse passages that reference her paintings and relate to Gentileschi’s experiences. In particular, those paintings are Susanna and the Elders and Judith Slaying Holofernes. She was one of the most talented painters of her time—she had far more painting talent than her father and brothers. Though while she did the painting and pigment grinding, her father signed his name on each canvas and took all the credit. Gentileschi was subject to her father’s demands, while her brothers had far more independence.
Blood Water Paint highlights the fact that the patriarchy has dismissed women’s concerns for centuries. The consequences have been the erasure of women from history, domestic violence, sexual assault, and a society that promotes toxic gender stereotypes.
Review: First of all, the premise of Blood Water Paint is AMAZING! There’s a long history of men stealing women’s artwork, and it’s not talked about enough. Men profiting off women’s work is something that has happened for millennia and continues to happen today. And then the part where Gentileschi reported her rapist (her art teacher, Agostino Tassi) was extremely powerful. Female rape victims often faced dishonor and death, while the male rapists normally faced no repercussions. That’s a pattern described in depth throughout the second half of the book and the free verse interpretations.
In terms of writing, there are some highlights, particularly with some individual lines. The quote shared above is a highlight, but there are other memorable quotes from the book. A couple of others that hit hard for me were, “I wish men would decide if women are heavenly angels on high, or earthbound sculptures for their gardens. But either way we’re beauty for consumption,” and “I do not plan to drown. I do, however, wish the river would carry me away.” The imagery is strong throughout the story, and the poetry is cohesive. Both of those facets kept me invested in Gentileschi and her experiences. McCullough is a talented poet. Blood Water Paint should’ve only contained poetry. Honestly, I would give it higher marks if it were just a poetry novel. This is where my criticism comes in.
The rocky shifts between in verse and free verse prevented me from fully enjoying this book. The poetry produced imagery in my mind, but the free verse passages ruined the flow. With the entire novel being in 1st person, there were parts where I had no clue what was going on. Those free verse passages were meant to bring Gentileschi’s painted characters Susanna and Judith to life, but the formatting made comprehension confusing. It took a while to understand, and I wish there was some clarification about the shift in subjects between sections. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if Gentileschi was speaking or if Susanna or Judith were speaking. That threw me for a loop, and I have to subtract a star just because of that. Better execution of free verse dialogue and transitions would’ve made for a smoother, more cohesive novel.
Aside from the free verse interpretations of Susanna from Susanna and the Elders and Judith from Judith Slaying Holofernes, the characterization was sufficient. It’s easy to feel sympathy for Gentileschi and be disgusted by the mistreatment she faces. There’s a huge emphasis on sensitive subjects, but for what it’s worth, Blood Water Paint conveys an appropriate mood given the storyline and plot of events.
Final Verdict: The first time I thought about sexism in the art world was during my freshman year of college. In an art class, the instructor brought up several instances of men stealing women’s work. Artemisia Gentileschi was never mentioned in class, but reading Blood Water Paint made me think about that sexist dynamic. I had never heard of Gentileschi until this novel, but reading it taught me something new. For that reason alone, I would recommend it to others interested in art history, sexism, and/or those who want to learn about a historical figure.
The poetry requires some thought to interpret (which poem doesn’t?), but it provokes imagery and serves as an appropriate format for telling Gentileschi’s story. Also, the storyline itself is amazing. 5 stars for that. However, the shifts from in verse to free verse and back again were not seamless. The characterization of Susanna and Judith was confusing and created a discord between explaining Gentileschi’s life and her paintings. Had the free verse passages been better formatted, this book would’ve earned no less than 4 stars from me. Though because the discord was significant and affected the story’s flow, I can’t give it a 4+ star rating. That disappoints me, because I really wanted to love this book. I love the premise and the poetry. The free verse passages brought the rating down.
If you would like to learn more about Artemisia Gentileschi from a wider context, you may read articles like those from the Brooklyn Museum, Smithsonian Magazine, and The New Yorker. If you would like to see her paintings, you can find them by searching “Artemisia Gentileschi paintings” on Google (or click here as a shortcut).
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