The Masterpiece is a love letter to artists and Grand Central Terminal in NYC. It is a story of love, betrayal, ambition, mystery, and jealousy. It is also about misogyny and how much more difficult it is for women to succeed than men
The story takes place in two different time periods, late 1920s/early 1930s and the 1970s, and each features a strong woman — Clara Darden in the former and Virginia Clay in the latter. Clara Darden is an illustrator who works at the Grand Central School of Art and who struggles to make a name for herself. Her counterpart, Virginia Clay, is newly divorced with a college-aged daughter and is trying to find her way in the world. Virginia starts a job at Grand Central Terminal’s information booth and she discovers the abandoned School of Art. The story alternates between these two women who have many things in common, such as Grand Central Terminal, a love of Art, a struggle to be independent, and the realization that life is much easier for men simply because they are men.
Fiona Davis contrasts Grand Central during the 1920s and 1970s — her descriptions are filled with so much detail that it seems to come alive in your mind’s eye. Davis has done extensive research and it is evident in the factual historical details woven into the story. There was actually a Grand Central School of Art back before the Depression, which as a New Yorker, I was surprised I never knew about it. Also, there was a plan to eliminate Grand Central terminal’s landmark status so that it could be replaced with a skyscraper. Jackie O. did in fact lead the charge to save the historical terminal and ultimately the Supreme Court ruled in favor of its landmark status.
The reader will feel like she has gotten to know both Clara Darden and Virginia Clay through the telling of their trials and tribulations. Witnessing Clara’s life during the Depression brought home the despair and the constant struggle to survive. Artists were one of the worst hit professions because their creations were considered luxuries.
Closed galleries, slashed museum budgets. No one in their right mind would waste money buying a painting these days. Artists were at the bottom of the food chain. They had nothing of value to offer; they didn’t bake bread or knit scarves. They put liquid on paper and watched it dry. That was it.
But what really comes through the story is the struggle that women had (and unfortunately, still have to a degree) being considered second only to men. The misogyny comes through loud and clear especially when one of Clara’s employers tells her that because of the depression, it’s either her or a man with a family that can be kept on the payroll.
“In any event, he has a family to feed. It’s either let you go or fire him, and I can’t do that to a man with responsibilities.” He put a meaty hand over hers. “You don’t want me to put a man out of work, now, do you?”
Their guests were drinking heavily, the more successful artists in chairs, with various girlfriends and former students sprawled about on the floor around them. Again, the men in thrones simply because they were men. They had access to the best galleries and patrons, and because of that, they became better known, and because of that, they were rewarded with success. It wasn’t fair.
I really enjoyed reading about Clara’s passion and determination to create Art that spoke to her and her alone.
But even if she didn’t speak like they did, her confidence and passion in her own work were unwavering. When she drew or painted, it was as if an unseen hand guided her own. She’d never been able to explain that to anyone. To her, painting was an internal expression, not a political or social one. She didn’t have a manifesto or an affiliation, other than to please herself doing what she loved to do and make money doing it. The first part was easy—the second, more elusive.
Davis explores many elements of the artistic life including whether Art succeeds or fails on its own and not because of the identity of the artist as well as how painting differs from illustrating for the artist.
She finally understood why Levon was reluctant to put his work up for inspection. His art was a direct reflection of his very being, which meant an analysis by someone like Mr. Hornsby was in fact an examination of Levon’s soul. Clara’s illustrations were a completely different animal, outside of herself, a separate product. A business, as Levon had put it.
Between the wonderful writing, the history, the Art and the three-dimensional characters, there is much to savor in this book. I highly recommend The Masterpiece and am looking forward to catching up with Davis’ earlier historical fiction works, The Address and The Dollhouse plus her upcoming work The Chelsea Girls (to be published in July 2019).
