Whitney Scharer

An outstanding debut novel, beautifully written and compellingly told. This work of historical fiction excavates the subject - and muse - of some famous early 20th century artists — Picasso, Jean Cocteau, and most famously and intimately, Man Ray — and shines a light on her, Lee Miller's, own artistic talent. The story is set alternately in the late 1920s-early 1930s Paris art world; the grim liberation of Europe from the Nazis in the 1940s; and the later period of decline and reminiscence in the mid 1970s.
… (altro)

I knew nothing about either Lee Miller or Man Ray before I read this book. However, I was absolutely fascinated by this story. Several times during the time I listened to the audio version of the book did I have to take a break to google both Lee Miller Man Ray for their art.

Now, I had an ecopy of this book, but I decided to listen to the audio version during work. However, I couldn't stop listening and start reading when I got home. The narrator, Therese Plummer did such an excellent work that I just couldn't stop listening to her telling the story about Lee and Man. I have a favorite scene from the narrator, and it's when Lee and Man are in the darkroom for the first time and you can really feel the tension between them. Listening to the scene (and other intense scenes) is just, in my opinion, even better than reading them when the narrator does such a good job as with this book.

It's so easy to forget that this is just fiction (based on facts) when you read this book. The characters come to life in a way that makes you think that this is all true. Like there was a stenographer there all the time writing down everything that happened and was said. That's how I felt listening to the book. Like I was a fly on the way witness all that happened.

In the end, I just want to say that this is an absolutely fantastic book! And I recommend it warmly. Read it, listen to it. Do what feels best for you!… (altro)

Complex Life of Lee Miller

Historical novels are one thing. Historical biographies of a real person are all together another. In the typical historical novel, generally the facts run true to course and authors insert their fictional character to interact with the historical ones in the context of actual events. In the historical biographical novel, the person, in this case Lee Miller, is the central character. The author has to read a lot into the person, which it seems is what Whitney Scharer has done in The Age of Light. Has she done a good job? She’s done a better job than a number of recent biographical novels that come to mind, among them The Paris Wife and Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald.

Scharer focuses on a narrow but important slice of Lee Miller’s life, Miller’s formative years developing her photographic skills first as an assistant and then partner of Man Ray. She met Man, as he liked to be called, in 1929. She started as his assistant. She soaked up knowledge and got to exercise her creative aspirations, even taking over some of his fashion work, freeing him to work on his art. They also became lovers. At first, they were unbridled passion for each other. Then he was all passion for her, but also controlling. He betrayed her artistically, according to the novel. She reciprocated by betraying him sexually. Finally, she left Man in 1932, devastating him. (They did later in life becomes friends.)

Scharer portrays Miller as a complex woman. Miller understood her sexual powers and used them to her advantage. Commitment put her off, and yet she felt dependent on a men, probably because of the relationship she’d had with her father, a man who photographed in the nude as a child, even after a family acquaintance raped her at seven. Then, too, at the time, living as a fully independent woman was challenging, to put it mildly. Even within the avant-garde set in which she and Man lived, free love, for example, involved women but also excluded them as well when in a relationship.

Scharer intersperses fast forwards to Miller’s life as a war photographer and correspondent for Vogue, a magazine she had a long affiliation with as a model and photographer. Given to periods of depression when she was with Man, these bouts intensified during the war and after the war. As Scharer points out, Miller observed and recorded some horrifying things. For instance, you can find online her photo of Leipzig Deputy Mayor Ernst Kurt Lisso and his family after they committed suicide in his office. Imagine walking in on this scene of horror. As a matter of fact, looking up Miller’s and Man’s photos as you read along is one of the pleasures of the novel.

Scharer in her afterword states that her goal was to show Miller’s complexity, the complicated nature of her character, both creative and ambitious, but also fragile and flawed. Miller does come across as this, but not necessarily someone you might be comfortable with. And because this is a novelization of her life, you do wonder, was Lee Miller really like this?… (altro)

Complex Life of Lee Miller

Historical novels are one thing. Historical biographies of a real person are all together another. In the typical historical novel, generally the facts run true to course and authors insert their fictional character to interact with the historical ones in the context of actual events. In the historical biographical novel, the person, in this case Lee Miller, is the central character. The author has to read a lot into the person, which it seems is what Whitney Scharer has done in The Age of Light. Has she done a good job? She’s done a better job than a number of recent biographical novels that come to mind, among them The Paris Wife and Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald.

Scharer focuses on a narrow but important slice of Lee Miller’s life, Miller’s formative years developing her photographic skills first as an assistant and then partner of Man Ray. She met Man, as he liked to be called, in 1929. She started as his assistant. She soaked up knowledge and got to exercise her creative aspirations, even taking over some of his fashion work, freeing him to work on his art. They also became lovers. At first, they were unbridled passion for each other. Then he was all passion for her, but also controlling. He betrayed her artistically, according to the novel. She reciprocated by betraying him sexually. Finally, she left Man in 1932, devastating him. (They did later in life becomes friends.)

Scharer portrays Miller as a complex woman. Miller understood her sexual powers and used them to her advantage. Commitment put her off, and yet she felt dependent on a men, probably because of the relationship she’d had with her father, a man who photographed in the nude as a child, even after a family acquaintance raped her at seven. Then, too, at the time, living as a fully independent woman was challenging, to put it mildly. Even within the avant-garde set in which she and Man lived, free love, for example, involved women but also excluded them as well when in a relationship.

Scharer intersperses fast forwards to Miller’s life as a war photographer and correspondent for Vogue, a magazine she had a long affiliation with as a model and photographer. Given to periods of depression when she was with Man, these bouts intensified during the war and after the war. As Scharer points out, Miller observed and recorded some horrifying things. For instance, you can find online her photo of Leipzig Deputy Mayor Ernst Kurt Lisso and his family after they committed suicide in his office. Imagine walking in on this scene of horror. As a matter of fact, looking up Miller’s and Man’s photos as you read along is one of the pleasures of the novel.

Scharer in her afterword states that her goal was to show Miller’s complexity, the complicated nature of her character, both creative and ambitious, but also fragile and flawed. Miller does come across as this, but not necessarily someone you might be comfortable with. And because this is a novelization of her life, you do wonder, was Lee Miller really like this?… (altro)