Chapters 1-8

Since I haven't really had a post yet of my own, I thought I'd do one now, though I must warn you all: It will be long as I am including things from chapters 1-8 (and the prologue).

First of all, let us think of the title: "The Birth of Venus". As Puddleglum says, "the story of her birth [Venus] was the symbol of mystery through which the divine message of beauty came into the world". Divine messages are very important throughout this novel. As Y and Puddleglum both pointed out, there seems to be a tension in the novel about religion and truth. Alessandra often wonders how you can tell a "divine message" from a simple coincidence. She asks herself, when she hears Erila's story of the botched hanging "how one could tell the Lord's mercy from a mistake in knotting, or if perhaps they might be the same thing" (42). When Alessandra warns him of the horrors that Savonarola says will be visited upon the city, Tomaso says, "War? Famine? Flood? We see the Arno in the streets every other year, and if the crops fail people will be hungry again. It doesn't have to be God's will" (70). Everything could possibly be a divine message from God, or it could be a complete coincidence. Then there is the part where Alessandra sits waiting in vain by the window in the sunbeams for God to speak to her. But it is perhaps because, as Puddleglum says, she is looking for one kind of divine truth: the actual words of God. I think she will discover that God's divine truths are not so transparent.

Also in reference to the title, and as Garden Girl and Librarychik have pointed out, there are numerous references to birth. But the references to birth are almost always tinged with death. The first mention of birth occurs in the prologue when they mention the young novitiate who gave birth in secret and left the baby to die (3). The next mention of birth is when Alessandra's mother goes to visit her sister because she "was so torn apart by the birth of an oversized baby that she was in need of female counsel" (18). Even Alessandra's own birth was painful: "I had almost died at birth. She had almost died giving birth to me. Eventually after two days of labour I was hauled out with tongs, both of us screaming all the way. The damage done to her body meant there would be no more children. Which meant in turn that she loved me both for my smallness and her lost fertility" (32). Birth is an extremely painful ordeal, often resulting in death. It is the cycle of life: birth and death, or perhaps birth from death. Like the phoenix rising out of its own ashes, birth is perhaps more accurately described as rebirth. The book takes place during the Italian "Renaissance" which of course means "rebirth". The Renaissance period was characterized by a rediscovery of ancient knowledge and art. Alessandra speaks of the theories of Plato and Aristotle and makes several mentions of greek/roman myths including Leda and the Swan (Zeus) and Daedalus and Icarus. And of course that brings us back to the title: Venus, the ancient goddess of love.

Also following this theme of birth, is the preoccupation with the Annunciation. The Annunciation is, of course, where the angel Gabriel comes to tell Mary the incredible news that she is carrying God's child. It seems that the author is trying to equate Alessandra with the young virgin Mary, and the young painter with Gabriel. The first painting of the painter's that Alessandra sees is the Annunciation. Her description of Mary: "While perhaps she ought not to be so forward with God's messenger, there is such joy in her attention that it is almost contagious" (20). Alessandra is certainly more forward with the painter than she ought to be. The Mary in his painting is also described as elongated. In the very next chapter, Alessandra laments that she is so tall. It would seem that this juxtaposition is not an accident. The painter also states "I paint in God's service" (22). He would therefore be a messenger of God, like an angel. In many ways, Alessandra probably sees him as an answer to her own prayers. When Alessandra sees Plautilla's blue fabric, she states "it reminds me of the ultramarine that painters use for Our Lady's dress...The fabric dye is less precious but no less special to me, not least because of its name: 'Alessandrina'," (28) thus further associating herself with Mary. In Alessandra's drawing of the Annunciation, Mary and the angel look "as if both she and Gabriel are being pulled by invisible threads towards and away from each other" (38). This is similar to Alessandra's relationship with the painter: she is drawn to him, and is yet repelled, not just by propriety, but she mentions several times that she is repelled by his smell. The painter too is drawn to Alessandra (he chooses to paint her first) but is at the same time repelled as he has been taught to equate women with the devil.

I have also noticed, and I'm glad Y pointed this out, the importance of colour in this story. The descriptions of everything are filled with colour and light. When I read this story, I picture Florence as bright and beautiful, perpetually filled with the golden haze of late summer. This is in contrast to the world that the painter comes from: "It's the colour. Where I come from everything is grey. Sometimes you can't tell where the sky ends and the sea begins. The colour makes everything different" (50). Alessandra obviously has an eye for colour, and for her it is almost as if colour takes on physical properties. When imagining what the artists' workshops might be like, she mentions "the smell of colours like a simmering stew" (17) and she speaks about the notes of the scale being equated with colours: "I swear if I were to paint the scale I could do it in a flash: shining gold leaf for the top notes falling through ochres and reds into hot purple and deepest blue". For her, colours are not just things that you see, but things which you experience with all your senses.

And finally, has anyone else noticed the switches from present tense to past tense? I have tried to look for a pattern, and I think most of her encounters with the painter has so far been in the present tense, but I feel the switching tenses to be somewhat arbitrary. It's not terribly noticeable, (I sometimes stop and say, "Wait a minute, this is in the past tense, when did we switch?) but I would still like to hear if anyone has any theories. I'm not really sure what the symbolism and patterns I have noticed mean yet, but they are important I'm sure as it seems that all of us are picking up on them.