Customer Reviews

Picasso My Grandfather

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1 star:		(3)

 

 

If you wish to read of Picasso this is not the book for you. It is a story of self pity. It sickened me. I am angry that I spent the money on this poorly written drivel. Let me sum it up for you; "Poor me poor me poor me. Grandpa ignored me, poor me" Save your money. Do not buy this book.

Although I feel sorry for Marina Picasso, her brother and her life, I think that maybe this memoir should have stayed between herself and her psychiatrist. Not only is the story badly written, the author leaves out large portions of her life. Even though she is a grown woman, the book is written from the perspective of a little girl. Everyone except her and her brother are self centered and not a little bit evil. This book might have done wonders for her psyche, but it should never have been printed.

One reader called this a book of self pity. What is "self pity?" Do you mean that if a person experiences a personal tragedy or trauma they are not allowed the humanity of recognizing that they, too, are human? They are not allowed to mourn? They are not allowed to come to terms with the truth?

They are not allowed to tell the truth lest it stir up guilt in abusive parents and grandparents other than Picasso? They are not allowed any measure of justice?

Telling the Truth is not Self Pity. "Self Pity" involves giving up and refusing to struggle toward health and happiness. Obviously Marina has engaged in this struggle. Not only has she gone to the necessary trouble of coming to terms with the cause of her suffering, she also has gone on to a state of improved well-being and a life of selfless and effective service as evidenced by her work among the orphans of Vietnam.

As a bonus, she leaves, by way of her book, an aid to others who must engage in a similar struggle.

Before you send Marina to trial, you must walk a mile (or more)in her shoes. There is always the "he said, she said" story to any tale, but I must tell you, being isolated from ones family member, no matter what the circumstances, can be devistating. Not to mention the influence of one very powerful figure head of the family, in which everyone seems to define themselves. Make no mistake, I count Picasso as one of the great artists. But most artists are tragic. The great ones suffered for it and made the ones around them miserable. Any great invertor's, artist's, scientist's, revoluntionist's, etc offspring will contest. Everything is sacrificed for the creators "art" no matter what "medium" form it comes in. We all carry a cross.
Even though he is one of my favorite artists, I am glad I heard Marina's side of the story. Bitter you say?? She could have claimed so much, but instead chose to use the money she received to help others. As an adoptive mother from outside my own country, I can only applaud her efforts. Marina, I think you are wonderful. I hope to someday do great things in my son's native country. I have seen great suffering there, worse than any other I have known. I can learn from adversity and make good.

Unfortunately I heard other people's impression of this book before and as I read it those impressions were a thick mask covering the sensitivity and pathos of Marina's story. Yes-the book is hard going initially because she spends much time stiching together the impact of living under the shadow of, arguably, the greatest painter of the twentieth century; however, if the reader perseveres and follows her story to its uplifting and expansive conclusion, they will be rewarded.

As Marina finally confesses in the last chapter of her memoir, beginning life or living part of your life under the canvas of a man named Pablo Picasso was terribly difficult. On page 183 she catalogues the immediate Picasso family members who comitted suicide: three and possibly four if you count Dora Maar who starved to death rather than sell her Picasso paintings. Marina writes on the same page, "I was meant to be one of the victims as well".

I will never forget that Marina did what too many rich, well off people fail to do and that is to use her considerable [yet small by world standards] Picasso fortune to create a village in Viet Nam to house and care for orphan children-several of those children she adopted into her own family of two children. Obviously she was looking to provide a childhood she felt had been denied her by living under the shadow of her famous grandfather.

I left this book thinking better of humanity and I recommend Marina's memoir to any reader interested in the life of someone connected but unconnected to greatness.

It goes without saying that any reader of this book will feel that life was certainly not good to Marina and Pablito Picasso when they were children and teenagers. The largest portion of this seems to be attributed to their wayward mother and absent, defeated father (Picasso's eldest son, Paulo).

I felt for Marina while reading this book because I believe her segment of the family was particularly affected by Picasso's actions, which was tolerated and not handled appropriately by her parents (as it appears to have been by Francoise Gilot, who took firm charge over the direction and happiness of her children by getting them away from the direct influence of the "Minotaur" as the others did not).

Marina Picasso gives real insight into the idea that Picasso had a true horrific and demeaning psychic powerhold over the Olga side of the family. Which was - again - obviously allowed and even condoned by her parents, Paulo and Emilliene.

No doubt Picasso was a self-absorbed man and Jacqueline exploited her position and authority over the "other" families. However, to attribute Picasso's powerhold for the direct troubles in this particular family is the pitiable part. But this was indeed their fate, or so it seems from Marina's perspective.

This book is a good read and I commend Marina Picasso for this account. It does offer strong insight into the Olga side of the family, and their desire to hold onto the Picasso mystique.

And it should be noted that Marina uses her "Picasso" money to help others (as with her Vietnamese foundation for orphans).

If you want to know more about the artist, about his work, about his art... this is not the book you are looking for. The author, is always complainig about the fact that Picasso was not a good grandfather, and that she wanted to have a "grandpa". Luckily for her, this guy was Picasso, so this gave her the best excuse to write a book. She says little about him. She speaks too much about her and her fears in life.

The matador stops the bullfight to pay homage to the artist. He turns from the bull to climb the stairs and doff his hat to the great Picasso before he completes the kill. In a tribute to the artist, he severs the defeated animal's air and tosses it to the artist's feet. The spectators understand this to be an act of respect, of devotion for the great Picasso, himself an archetype of fight and victory and transcendence. Here is the legendary rebel who fearlessly confronted fascism in all its brutal horror with art receiving a token of the animal whose life represents life itself.

Here is a severed ear, yellow cartiledge, fur matted with blood, the remnant of a mighty beast reduced to a walk-on role in the gaudy pageantry of the Spanish bullfight.

Here is the story of Marina Picasso, granddaughter of the great Picasso. Picasso My Grandfather is less a work of literature than an act of revenge on the man who deprived the author and her brother a grandfather. He couldn't help it, according to this account. Picasso was an artist; as such, he invested his every breath, his every resource--right down to the scrap metal he found on the side of the road--his every relationship to his artistic vision. For this his public adored him, his family longed for him, and a number of his lovers and associates died by their own hand.

The bullfight episode of this memoir, at which Marina, Pablito, and their father Paulo were present with the great Pablo, captures the bittersweet and tragic of these relationships. The rest of the text is unforgiving and unyielding as it blames Pablo Picasso for every evil that befell his son Paulo and Paulo's family. Marina's pain and hunger for love, for affection, and for connection explode in every passage but burn with steady passion in this one. Like it or not, she is Picasso's granddaughter; she understands his peculiar passion too well.

The world loves Pablo Picasso for the art he has given it. For his refusal to see things in the usual way. For his refusal to accept the pretty in place of the beautiful. For his courage in facing the struggle of the human soul with itself, with meaning, with life.

As I read Marina Picasso's book, I felt it was none of my business, that I ought to put it down. But I could not. I wanted to know everything she had to say about the artist whose works have asked me what exactly it is to be human, what I know of suffering, and what I know about how I love.

Marina points out that the matador was so rapt with her grandfather's attention that he allowed the bull to suffer in its dying, to be humiliated by the turned back. What an awful thing. Nevertheless, this image also turns me to Picasso, to wonder about the human being who said, "to make a dove, you first must wring its neck"--the same artist who said "when I don't have blue, I use red." You stop at nothing, you use everything, to acheive your goals, which are of course are the passion of your heart.

Marina hasn't much understanding about truly tragic childhoods...let's see, private schools, living in the south of France, wow, such misery! Her grandfather didn't owe her a damn thing, and why didn't her mom and dad work? If I were Pablo, I'd crawl out of my grave and take my money back.

Ugh! This book is so depressing. All you see are glimpses of Picasso through the bitter eyes of an adult, who feels that is necessary that we all hear about her awful childhood and the monstrous Minotaur that Picasso was. Not to mention the writing is so lacking in depth that the book does not hold your focus. Plus, she is so whiney, that you feel like she is just trying to make money of the name of Picasso. What a disappointment this book was.