The war has raged on far beyond comprehension and I despair of ever holding you close to me again, ever smelling your skin, feeling your touch. Today, I’m in one of those moods. The sky is bright and blue enough I can write as the sunlight comes pouring through my studio window. But I doubt whether I will ever have the nerve to send this letter because I fear it may fall into the wrong hands, even though I trust Anne implicitly.
My God, how I miss you. I think of nothing else but you and I wonder how you are and what you are doing in Paris. Are you asleep when I’m awake? Do you touch your body and wish it was my hand upon you instead of your own? Do you feel, as I do, that I have missed my one chance at true love?
The memory of the night I fell at Frances Livingston’s runs over and over in my head. I should have begged you to stay—to leave Tom and never go to France—so we could start our lives together. But those were the ravings of an infatuated and confused mind—one desperate with passion and love for you. The longing in my soul cuts through me like a knife. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I shoot upright in bed because my mind screams your name. And then I must calm my heart and wipe the tears from my eyes.
I want to touch you. A man with his full senses has no idea how lucky he is. How many men go through the world oblivious to what is around them? If only they could be blinded for a day and not see the women they supposedly hold in high regard. I’m sure the world would change overnight.
My relationship with Alex is deteriorating and I despair of ever seeing you again. My life seems to be sinking into a morass and I cannot think, cannot paint, cannot speak, but only endeavor to hold you in my heart.
When you do return, I fear you will have changed while I sat frozen in my world in Boston. But know this, my dear Emma, whatever happens between us, I will love you forever. I make no apologies for that love. No matter the time or day we meet again, or if we meet again at all, you must never make any apology for our love—I for you and you for me. I want you to love, Emma, and be happy—you deserve so much in your life. And if the choice comes down to Tom or me, I know you will make the hard decision. Whatever happens I will respect that choice because, in the end, my love for you is greater than my selfishness.
The sun is leaving the room and I can write no more. When the light disappears I am thrust into that dark world once more. I have only my heart and my love for you to spread light and warmth.
And with that, good night, dear Emma.
My love is for you. Always.
Linton
Struggling to catch her breath, Emma dropped the letter, watching as its pages fluttered to the brick. She cupped her hands over her face and cried out as Anne stepped into the courtyard.
* * *
Emma retrieved her pad and drew with a fervor she hadn’t felt in years, the lines coming furiously from her pencil. Narcissus Rising took shape, in all forms and dimensions. The muscular torso was Linton’s—she knew it and was happy to see his body reappear before her. In one of the sketches, a frontal nude, she had drawn his face and was pleased with the outcome. Linton’s handsome features peered out from the page, the lines flowing, human and filled with love.
Lazarus curled around her feet. The French doors were flung open. The sun had drifted far past the courtyard walls. Anne had released Diana from the confines of its crate and the bronze sat on the table, a silent testament to Linton, his fingerprints still smudging the metal.
The room was growing dark when Anne brought tea. “You need a lamp. You’ll ruin your eyes drawing in this light.”
Emma put down her pencil, brushing off her housekeeper’s concern. “After the baby is born, I want to work again.”
“Sculpting?” Anne asked.
“Yes. This will be my first project.” She flipped the pages of her pad so Anne could view the drawings.
“They’re very nice,” Anne said modestly. “They’re of Mr. Bower, aren’t they?”
Emma nodded. “The faces are very good, don’t you think? I think they’re the best I’ve ever drawn.”
“I would say they’re perfect. Would you like something to eat?”
“No,” Emma replied, “but could you do something for me?”
“Of course.”
“Tomorrow morning, arrange a cab. After breakfast, I’m going to the Copley Plaza to visit Dr. Swan. I want to meet with him—on my terms. I have many things to discuss—and to share a secret I’ve been holding far too long.”
Anne touched Emma’s shoulder.
She grasped Anne’s fingers and looked at the pad in her lap.
The face of Linton Bower smiled at her from eternity.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The inspiration for The Sculptress came from Gustave Flaubert’s seminal work of realist fiction, Madame Bovary. I was immediately taken with Emma Bovary’s story upon reading the book, which, like a few other classics, I read later in life.
Flaubert was born in Rouen, France, in 1821, and as he grew older developed friendships with many in the Parisian literary world. According to Francis Steegmuller, the translator of my favorite edition of the novel, Madame Bovary was “not only the most ‘realistic’ novel of its age . . . it was also the most ‘psychological. ’” My fascination with Emma Bovary drew from just that—the psychological. How this seemingly provincial woman could drive herself to madness was the question that enthralled me and kept me turning the pages. As dated as the novel may be by today’s social standards, its plot, building tensions, and depiction of unrequited love are, to me, as dramatic today as the day they were written.
Flaubert took five years to write the novel, which appeared serially in a Paris magazine beginning in 1856. The work was met with charges of “offenses against morality and religion” almost immediately. The author stood trial but was acquitted with a reprimand. Many years ago, in Boston, I read passages from Madame Bovary as part of Banned Books Week, an annual event that celebrates censored and banned books. The particular passage I selected still gives me chills to this day.
The last thing I will point out about the novel is a thought that the author had as he envisioned his words on provincial life: “One likes to imagine some, deep, great, intimate story being lived here amid these peaceful dwellings, a passion like a sickness, lasting until death.” (Quoted from the 1992 Modern Library introduction.) Flaubert’s words capture the theme of Madame Bovary perfectly—a woman driven by her own desires and wishes who had no choice, much like Emma Lewis Swan.
The Sculptress also was inspired by actual events during “The War to End All Wars.” The work of my heroine, Emma Lewis Swan, was modeled on the similar vocation of Boston sculptress Anna Coleman Ladd; however, the reader should refrain from making comparisons between the two. The life of Mrs. Ladd bears no resemblance to the fictional drama created for the title character of the novel. The other characters in the book, including Thomas Evan Swan and John Harvey, are likewise fictional characters and should not be substituted for human beings, dead or alive. This book, if I may be so bold, is the most romantic, the most “psychological” of all the historical novels I’ve written for Kensington. I hope I’ve succeeded in my task.
A number of sources were consulted during the writing of this book. They include, but are not limited to, primary source documents, books, and internet sites. In particular, I would like to thank Paddy Hartley, and his collaborators at Project Facade, for their generous help with the research of facial reconstruction techniques. Various processes were used during World War I and the technique used by Emma Swan in the novel is an amalgamation of several and not intended to be the actual process. I would direct the interested reader to the Project Facade archive on Paddy’s website, and these articles for more information about facial reconstruction and the making of facial masks:
• “Faces of War,” by Caroline Alexander, The Smithsonian, February, 2007
• “Anna Ladd’s Masks, Mending WWI’s Scars,” by Jack El-Hai, The History Channel Magazine, July/ August 2005
; These internet sites were particularly helpful for reconstructing historical events:
• www.paddyhartley.com
• www.firstworldwar.com
• The National World War I Museum and Memorial at www.theworldwar.org. The museum, located at the Liberty Memorial in Kansas City, Missouri, is a treasure trove of war-related artifacts.
Nonfiction books and novels consulted, but not limited to:
• Memoirs of My Services in the World War, 1917–1918, by George C. Marshall, Houghton Mifflin, 1976
• US Doughboy, 1916–1919, by Thomas A. Hoff, Osprey Publishing Ltd., 2005
• World War I Day by Day, by Ian Westwell, MBI Publishing Company, 2004
• Life Class, by Pat Barker, Doubleday, 2008
• Suite Française, by Irène Némirovsky, Knopf, 2006
• Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert, Modern Library Edition, Random House, 1992. Translated by Francis Steegmuller
Thanks also must be given to Julien Sanchez and the Toul Visitors Bureau for their timely and important research on their historic and lovely town during World War I; to Jean-Marie Jac-queme for his French translation skills. Also, as a reminder to the reader, the Red Cross is an internationally recognized trademarked symbol used during times of war and natural disaster.
This book could not have been written and edited without the exceptional skills of my beta readers, Scott Colella, Ricardo DeFrutos, Michael Grenier, Robert Pinsky, and my wonderful writing colleague who is now sadly missed, Leslie Lombino Schultz. All, in their way, contributed to the final creation of The Sculptress. I also have relied upon a community of writers, from the members of Florida Romance Writers in South Florida, to the equally inspiring members of the Writers’ Room of Boston. Special thanks go out to Karen Kendall, Kathleen Catalano, and Traci E. Hall for their sage advice and unwavering support.
Writing is never easy, but the process is one of the most gratifying in the world. I love it, even though it often drives me to insanity. I shudder to think what my life would have been like had I not immersed myself in the world of books as a child. This novel, my fifth for Kensington, was written nearly twelve years ago and has undergone extensive revision since the initial draft.
I write about women who have taken a stand in history—sometimes they are overwhelmed by their fictional circumstances, but their struggle is always real, always worth fighting for. A reader told me a few years back that I must have had a “strong” mother to write such heroines. I did. I thank my mother, Gretchen, for giving me the fortitude and discipline necessary to undertake such a daunting task as the creation of a novel. I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention my former writing partner, and still wonderful friend, Jenifer Otwell, who provided a huge stepping-stone on this journey.
As always, thanks go to my astute editor, John Scognamiglio, for his faith in this book; and to my steadfast agent, Evan S. Marshall, for his business and literary acumen.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
THE SCULPTRESS
V. S. Alexander
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are included
to enhance your group’s reading of
V. S. Alexander’s The Sculptress
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. The inspiration for The Sculptress came from Flaubert’s novel Madame Bovary. Do you see parallels between the two books? If so, what are they?
2. Emma from Madame Bovary and Emma from The Sculptress have two decidedly different character endings. Do you believe this was because societal roles for women had softened from 1856 (Bovary’s publication date) to World War I?
3. Are the issues that Emma struggled with in the book still prevalent today?
4. “The War to End All Wars” became a common catchphrase for World War I. How did the war change women’s lives, including their fashions?
5. The war was also supposed to “make the world safe for democracy.” Do you believe that happened?
6. If the book were set in contemporary time, how would Emma have reacted to her circumstances? Her pregnancy? Her relationships with Linton, Andrew Stoneman, and Tom?
7. Would you have liked to see Emma and Linton come together as a couple?
8. Who was the most likable character in the book?
9. Besides Everett, who do you believe was the least likable character in the book?
10. The book closes with Emma seeing Linton’s face on the drawing pad. Do you believe she and Tom get back together?
The Sculptress Page 39
