The Way to Paradise FROM THE PUBLISHER
"In 1844, the famous socialist agitator and memoirist Flora Tristan embarked on a tour of France to campaign for workers' and women's rights. In 1891, her grandson Paul Gauguin set sail for Tahiti, determined to escape civilization and paint primitive masterpieces. Flora died before her grandson was born, but their travels and obsessions unfold side by side in the deft, utterly absorbing novel from one of Latin America's most celebrated writers." Flora, the illegitimate child of a wealthy Peruvian father and a French mother, grows up in poverty and, after fleeing a brutal husband, journeys to Peru to demand her inheritance. On her return, she makes her name as a popular writer and a champion of the downtrodden, setting herself the arduous task of touring the French countryside to recruit members for her Workers' Union. Paul, a struggling painter and stubborn visionary, abandons his wife and five children for life in the South Seas. Although he has his pick of teenage lovers and paints some of his greatest works, Paul's dreams of paradise are poisoned by syphilis, the stifling forces of French colonialism, and a chronic lack of funds.
FROM THE CRITICS
Publishers Weekly
Postimpressionist painter Paul Gauguin's dramatic life inspired Somerset Maugham's classic The Moon and Sixpence; now Vargas Llosa takes his turn re-imagining the artist's story in an intricately detailed novel that also chronicles the life of Gauguin's feminist-socialist grandmother, Flora Trist n. Splitting the narrative between Trist n's tour of France in 1844, which she made to recruit support for her Workers Union, and Gauguin's life after landing in Tahiti in 1891, Vargas Llosa shows how each sought something-be it social reform or artistic truth-greater than themselves. The illegitimate child of a Peruvian man and a French woman, Trist n flees her villainous husband and makes her way to Peru, where she hopes to claim her inheritance from her late father's Peruvian relatives. When she fails, she returns to Europe and throws herself into radical politics. Gauguin's story is better known-the abdication of bourgeois existence for art; the brief, conflicted cohabitation with Van Gogh; the voyage to Tahiti; the sexual escapades there, and the ravages of syphilis; the final voyage to the Marquesas Islands-and Vargas Llosa tells it carefully. His twin tales achieve force and momentum through the sheer accumulation of detail and the relentlessly chronicled physical decline of both protagonists. But though usually a master of rhetoric and tone, Vargas Llosa loses his footing here, syncopating his account with second-person remarks that condescend to his characters ("Alas, Florita! It was all for the best that it hadn't happened, wasn't it?"; "[Y]ou weren't dreaming of anything so foolish, were you, Paul?"). Flora Trist n deserves to be better known, and this novel should accomplish that goal. But despite Wimmer's excellent translation, Vargas Llosa's latest too often feels like a weighty, unwieldy account of two exciting lives, which does neither its subjects nor its author's past artistry a service. (Nov.) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
The tragic and romantic life of artist Paul Gauguin has long been an inspiration for writers of fiction; Somerset Maugham's The Moon and Sixpence was based loosely on his story, and Gauguin himself wrote an autobiographical novel. Now Peruvian literary giant and unsuccessful presidential contender Vargas Llosa (b. 1936) weighs in with the unique twist of pairing Gauguin's career with that of his indomitable Peruvian grandmother. Flora Tristan, the bastard daughter of a French mother and a wealthy Peruvian, tirelessly campaigned for the rights of the downtrodden in order to forge an alliance of women and workers, while her grandson, who was born after her untimely death at 41, abandoned his conventional life in Paris in 1891 for the South Sea islands, where he romped with teenaged beauties and painted masterpieces that changed the direction of Western art. In alternating chapters, Vargas Llosa vividly depicts the travels, sorrows, and wrangling with the Catholic Church that absorbed the energies of these two remarkable people. Highly recommended. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 8/03.]-Jack Shreve, Allegany Coll. of Maryland, Cumberland Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
With matchless empathy and insight, the great Peruvian author analyzes two contrasting quests for the ideal. Dual narratives alternate the stories of two fascinating historical characters: early feminist social activist Flora Tristan (1803-44), of mixed Peruvian and French heritage, and her grandson (who never knew her), the great French rebel-painter Paul Gauguin (1848-1903). Employing both omniscient narration and a teasing, confrontational second-person address, Vargas Llosa (The Language of Passion, 2002, etc.) juxtaposes Flora's pursuit (throughout a tour of southern France) of her vision of an international "Worker's Union" with Gauguin's flight from his Danish wife and five children (in the wake of the 1881 Paris stock market crash) to the South Seas islands, motivated by desires for artistic success and to submerge himself in a "pagan, happy culture, unashamed of the body and untainted by the decadent notion of sin." This is a formidable, learned novel that embraces the conflicting opinions of social theorists (Fourier, Saint-Simon, Proudhon, et al.) with whom Flora does intellectual battle; 19th-century political history, and rival artistic theories and practices (expressed, e.g., in Gauguin's memories of his combative friendship with "the mad Dutchman" Vincent van Gogh). It's also a replete and lively story, whose assured construction and pacing very gradually reveal such crucial life patterns and details as Flora's abandonment of her abusive husband and her children and discovery of sexual fulfillment with a sympathetic Polish demimondaine, and Gauguin's aggressive grasp of liberation, awakening artistic consciousness, and exhausted surrender to the ravages of syphilis. It'sGauguin's conflicted odyssey that stimulates Vargas Llosa's imagination most powerfully. But there isn't a page of this magnificently imagined and orchestrated story that does not vibrate with the energy and mystery of felt, and fully comprehended, life. It's hard to believe, but Vargas Llosa just keeps getting better. What are the Swedes waiting for?