Artist biographies have long been a point of interest for me. As a child, I would always choose an artist for biography fairs and nonfiction book reports, and in my own free time I would seek out ways to learn more about what was behind the music I played and paintings I saw. Even going to museums and reading the info tag next to works was fascinating, especially when a wing is big enough that you can start to compose a story and timeline from the works themselves. Recently, though, with various new art installations popularized by social media and people in my life having interest, I got a surge of motivation to learn more about them once again. What possessed me, I don’t know, but Vincent Van Gogh in particular seemed like the right choice to study. Maybe it was how wacky his life seemed in books I read as a child, or when one of my brother’s used him as a biography fair and I got new, even odder snippets of information (like putting candles on the rim of his straw hat to paint at night, although this detail is more legend than fact). Not to mention, with true crime channels focusing on the circumstances of his death, I wanted to know more.

Like a sane grad student who clearly had nothing better to do (sarcasm), I chose a 976 page textbook of a biography, but one that seemed like it would give me all the details. The book, Van Gogh: The Life, is by Steven Neifeh and Gregory White Smith, a cool artist-husband duo, and seems to be a reputable collection of information on Van Gogh’s life. As the book is split into three sections, I will do the same below in my summary and review (also because if I read it to completion before writing a review I am certain I will have forgot so many a juicy detail).

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Part 1: The Early Years, 1853-1880

To fully preface Vincent’s life, the authors delve into his family history and some Dutch politics. While this may seem drawn out to do, it actually helps form a base for understanding why his parents acted the way they did, how he made his way into certain professions, and the societal viewpoints different people stood from. His mother, Anna Carbentus, came from The Hague, a well-groomed city where she lived a privileged life, trained in the arts such as watercolour and piano. She had a somewhat dark worldview, often needed to be kept furiously busy, and allowed things like respectability, duty, and religion to rule her mindset. She did not marry until 30, old for the time, and only because of the pressure of her younger sister marrying before her. Theodorus “Dorus” Van Gogh, the brother of her sister’s husband (Vincent “Cent” Van Gogh, the art dealer) was also late to marry at the age of of 28, so the two decided to wed. Soon after, they moved to Groot Zundert, a more rural, low class town in the Catholic south where Dorus was to be a Protestant preacher.

It soon came time to start a family for the Van Goghs. Their first child, Vincent Van Gogh, was unfortunately stillborn. Exactly a year later, she gave birth to the Vincent we know, and up until she was 47, she had five more children. I have previously read much speculation regarding them naming the next child Vincent, expecting him to step into his dead brother’s shoes, and so on. I feel pretty good saying that those are more rumor than truth. The Van Goghs used family names for their children, and “Vincent Willem” was no exception as it came from each of his grandfathers. I mean, this same woman named a daughter after herself; they seemed wholly more concerned with using family names than the situation being uniquely out of mourning. It is true, that it was unusual that they got a grave for the stillborn child, as it was previously uncommon, but as she came from money and it was the new fashion to do so, it was, again, most likely not a hysterical situation.

Growing up, the Van Goghs were very close and spent time together with books, art, and in their garden. Even when apart, they meticulously wrote to each other and visited as much as possible for any holiday or event. Vincent, although quite smart and dedicated when it suited him, was chronically truant and mischievous in school. To salvage his education, they hired governesses and sent him to boarding schools, but when he was almost 15, he left his school and most likely walked the 7 hours home. A little over a year later at 16, his father got him a clerk job at Goupil and Cie, the art dealing business his Uncle Cent was part of, as well as where his brother Theo would find his success.

For the next so many years of his life, Vincent would be unable to hold a job for long periods of time, often starting with zealous motivation then withdrawing and becoming sullen, eventually getting fired, leaving, or transferred to a new location in the case of his Uncle’s business. He lived in parts of the Netherlands, France, England, and Belgium, taking jobs such as teaching and religious ministry. Despite his father being a preacher, Vincent at first was not overly religious. At one point, he collected prints and copied poems of scandalous material to convince his brother to seek the company of ladies of the night– certainly not a Christian act!

I want to first start by commenting how clever and interesting the writers are throughout. I at many times laughed at how they set up contrast and brought home Vincent’s antics. I also appreciated how human they made the people in his life, giving all perspectives they could. As for Vincent, well, so often we think of him as this tortured artist type, but we do not give credit to just how mentally unwell he was. This was not a “I smoke cigarettes out in the rain and drink black coffee because I’m angsty.” This was him constantly doing things that put him on the brink of death, going into manic episodes of religious fervor, and unable to hold a job or relationships.

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Part 2: The Dutch Years, 1880-1886

Shortly after Vincent decided to become an artist, he moved to Brussels (against Theo’s plea to move to Paris with him). There, he met Anthon van Rappard, a Dutch artist who would become friends with Vincent, spending time drawing with him and even visiting red light districts together. They would stay in contact and make visits, even as Vincent shortly after returned to the Netherlands. This lasted until a later falling out regarding Vincent’s The Potato Eaters, which was surprisingly long given Vincent was not always the most agreeable. It was around this time too that he tried to marry his recently-widowed cousin, Kee Vos-Stricker. Thankfully, she said no, but it did not stop Vincent from harassing her, even coming to her house against her wishes.

Vincent often sought out peasants to use as models, having a preference for live models as well as capturing his fascination with the working class. This, though, was discouraged by most people in his life. Anton Mauve, a successful artist and his relative, once took him under his wing for lessons, but explained he should use plaster casts instead. H. G. Tersteeg, his former manager at Goupil’s, also put it down, and in a heated argument told Vincent that his calling was fakery and that he was not an artist. His Uncle Cor flipped through his drawings and offered to pay him to make more of a street scene, skipping the many portraits (although, he did not properly pay him on time or as agreed, and it was a bit insulting). When he lived in The Hague, he would pay poor elderly and prostitutes to model for him. It was how he met Sien Hoornik, a pregnant prostitute he would try to have a relationship with and support (on his brother’s money). This ultimately fell through, but it was here Vincent played (somewhat) happy family. Theo demanded Vincent stop seeing her to continue receiving his support.

Vincent later moved back with his family, but after bitter disputes, his father dying, and drama involving a prominent woman in the area, he moved to Antwerp to study at Royal Academy of Fine Arts. That move again was not the right fit. He felt humiliated and was even ejected from some of his classes. He did not eat properly and over indulged in tobacco and alcohol to the point that teeth had to be removed. Finally, in a game of chicken with Theo, he decided to finally take a train to Paris rather than move back in with his family.

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Part 3: The French Years, 1886-1890

The final part of the book better details the art movements and theories that came about during this time. Vincent was already very well educated on art from his previous job, collecting prints, voraciously reading, and his short stints in art school, and he used this in his communications with other artists and to experiment in his own works. People like Seurat popularized “divisionism” or what is better known as “pointillism” while people like Bernard called for the opposite in styles like the blocky “cloisonnism.” Vincent was in contact with many of these people, even painting with them, and experimented often. He again tried to enroll in art school, this time at the Atelier of Fernand Cormon, but only lasted three months. We also learn that it was Theo in charge of the initiative to bring Impressionist art into Goupil’s galleries. This is where Impressionism made its way from experimental and avant-garde to high quality and worthy of investment.

Not long after Vincent moved to Paris with Theo, he abruptly left and headed south to Arles. Theo was falling sick and Vincent feared he had something to do with it, most likely still guilty over possibly contributing to the death of their father. Although the move was disappointing given Vincent’s desire to live and work with his brother, the next, and last, three places Vincent would be brought about some of his best works. Arles was home to many of the famous places we see in his paintings, such as the night cafe and outdoor terraces. The people did not take too kindly to him, but he built relationships with people in the town, making portraits and spending time with them. Following up on his dream of an artist collective, he rented what is known as the Yellow House and desperately tried to invite artists to join him. Paul Gauguin after much back and forth finally decided to come (with monetary incentive from Theo), but left only months after due to the turmoil. It was at the end of his stay that Vincent cut his ear in an episode (and left it with Gauguin’s favourite prostitute to give to him).

After a number of hospital stays and improper care, Vincent and Theo agreed upon sending him to an asylum in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence. The town had beautiful sights like Roman ruins, lots of nature, and a more welcoming environment compared to many of the places Vincent stayed throughout his life. He was watched over and allowed to paint when not having an episode. He would sometimes consume toxic painting supplies, so these items were often restricted until he was better. He was also given a chaperone to explore further outdoors, and many other patients would quietly stop to watch him paint. While at the asylum, some of his works garnered popularity, even having journalists write about him in great detail and his works appeared in an exhibition. This news, though, was overshadowed in the family by Theo and his wife Jo Bonger’s newborn son, Vincent.

Vincent’s works received a bit more popularity. They were shown in the annual Salon des Indépendants, where art fans gathered to see the works mentioned by journalist Aurier. Theo wrote to him of the great feedback he received, and even Gauguin sent him a letter of congratulations. The newfound attention and possibility in Theo’s eyes led to Vincent being allowed to move to the beautiful countryside town of Auvers, about 20 miles from Paris, to continue to work. Dr. Paul Gachet, a doctor who previously assisted painters such as Pissarro, Renoir, Cézanne, and Manet, was introduced to Vincent to be of help if episodes returned. Again, Vincent begged and petitioned Theo to move his new family to Auvers with him, but to no avail. So Vincent stayed there, painting and sometimes trying to make company with those around him.

One of the people he befriended was Gaston Secrétan, son of a rich pharmacist from Paris. Gaston had interested in art, so would stick around Vincent to talk. This, though, attracted the attention of his younger brother, René. René and his friends would find ways to tease and prank Vincent, such as putting hot spices on the tip of his paintbrushes so he would burn his mouth when he licked them. René was also a fan of the Wild West, owning a cowboy outfit complete with a real working gun. This was quite the novelty at the time, as it was uncommon for people to own guns, especially in the countryside there. It is unfortunately this gun that we presume shot the fatal bullet. The story behind Vincent’s death is murky, most likely with coverup from both townspeople and Vincent himself. The previous notion that he died via suicide is practically inconceivable when all the facts are looked at. I cannot cover them all here, but there are some main points:

• The bullet did not leave his body and was at an angle that would be extremely difficult/impossible to do on one’s own.
• The gun was not found, nor the painting supplies he brought with him that day, and the ownership and story around it was changed and muddied many times. It is possible the town wanted to cover for the children of their rich Parisian patron or simply had the story wrong.
• Vincent did not know how to use a gun, and previously wrote he would not commit suicide. He also wrote that drowning was the poetic way to go and also knew much about poisons. A shot to the abdomen was not an easy nor expected route.
• He felt much guilt using Theo’s money to pay for supplies and taking away from his family, but just days before ordered more.
• The place he originally was said to be when this happened would have been too far for him to walk home with his wound.
• He did not clearly answer questions regarding the situation and wanted to ensure nobody would be blamed for it. He also called for medical attention.
• After a movie about Vincent came out that wrongly portrayed him, an elderly René Secrétan told the “real” story, claiming it was his gun and providing little known details that only someone close to Vincent would have known. He instead said Vincent took the gun from his sack, but it is more likely Secrétan did it and this was the closest to the truth he would tell.

The circumstances of his death are still unknown, but now it is more widely accepted that it was not a suicide, regardless of how well Vincent accepted his death. After the shot, a letter was delivered to Theo to come immediately. He did, and held his brother on his deathbed. He died 30 hours after the wounding. Theo then made it his mission to have Vincent remembered, but soon underwent psychosis and died the following January, six months later. His widow Jo Bonger, having seen the situation unfold, went through all of their letters and art, and strategically translated and released them, bringing about the popularity they have today. She is also the one who relocated Theo’s body next to Vincent’s, having read how badly Vincent wanted to be reunited with his brother throughout their years of letters.

“Finally, Vincent had his reunion on the heath.”

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The last line of the book made me cry. Never before have I read a biography that consumed me as much as this. I felt I was given a very straightforward look at Vincent, how he was shaped both in his personal life and his work, and at some times, I even started to really dislike him. But to see the ups and downs, desires and downfalls, the complicated relationships and his struggles to keep them, how much he knew and synthesized in his paintings and letters– it gave me such a human look at someone so mythicized. I feel so oddly ensnared by the various circumstances of his short life, living in a time and place where the art world exploded right in front of his eyes and he was there to make a piece of it his own.