AUTHOR’S NOTE
The inspiration for The Sculptress came from Gustave Flaubert’s seminal work of realist fiction, Madame Bovary. I was immediately taken with Emma Bovary’s story upon reading the book, which, like a few other classics, I read later in life.
Flaubert was born in Rouen, France, in 1821, and as he grew older developed friendships with many in the Parisian literary world. According to Francis Steegmuller, the translator of my favorite edition of the novel, Madame Bovary was “not only the most ‘realistic’ novel of its age . . . it was also the most ‘psychological. ’” My fascination with Emma Bovary drew from just that—the psychological. How this seemingly provincial woman could drive herself to madness was the question that enthralled me and kept me turning the pages. As dated as the novel may be by today’s social standards, its plot, building tensions, and depiction of unrequited love are, to me, as dramatic today as the day they were written.
Flaubert took five years to write the novel, which appeared serially in a Paris magazine beginning in 1856. The work was met with charges of “offenses against morality and religion” almost immediately. The author stood trial but was acquitted with a reprimand. Many years ago, in Boston, I read passages from Madame Bovary as part of Banned Books Week, an annual event that celebrates censored and banned books. The particular passage I selected still gives me chills to this day.
The last thing I will point out about the novel is a thought that the author had as he envisioned his words on provincial life: “One likes to imagine some, deep, great, intimate story being lived here amid these peaceful dwellings, a passion like a sickness, lasting until death.” (Quoted from the 1992 Modern Library introduction.) Flaubert’s words capture the theme of Madame Bovary perfectly—a woman driven by her own desires and wishes who had no choice, much like Emma Lewis Swan.
The Sculptress also was inspired by actual events during “The War to End All Wars.” The work of my heroine, Emma Lewis Swan, was modeled on the similar vocation of Boston sculptress Anna Coleman Ladd; however, the reader should refrain from making comparisons between the two. The life of Mrs. Ladd bears no resemblance to the fictional drama created for the title character of the novel. The other characters in the book, including Thomas Evan Swan and John Harvey, are likewise fictional characters and should not be substituted for human beings, dead or alive. This book, if I may be so bold, is the most romantic, the most “psychological” of all the historical novels I’ve written for Kensington. I hope I’ve succeeded in my task.
A number of sources were consulted during the writing of this book. They include, but are not limited to, primary source documents, books, and internet sites. In particular, I would like to thank Paddy Hartley, and his collaborators at Project Facade, for their generous help with the research of facial reconstruction techniques. Various processes were used during World War I and the technique used by Emma Swan in the novel is an amalgamation of several and not intended to be the actual process. I would direct the interested reader to the Project Facade archive on Paddy’s website, and these articles for more information about facial reconstruction and the making of facial masks:
• “Faces of War,” by Caroline Alexander, The Smithsonian, February, 2007
• “Anna Ladd’s Masks, Mending WWI’s Scars,” by Jack El-Hai, The History Channel Magazine, July/ August 2005
These internet sites were particularly helpful for reconstructing historical events:
• The National World War I Museum and Memorial at
www.theworldwar.org. The museum, located at the Liberty Memorial in Kansas City, Missouri, is a treasure trove of war-related artifacts.
Nonfiction books and novels consulted, but not limited to:
• Memoirs of My Services in the World War, 1917–1918, by George C. Marshall, Houghton Mifflin, 1976
• US Doughboy, 1916–1919, by Thomas A. Hoff, Osprey Publishing Ltd., 2005
• World War I Day by Day, by Ian Westwell, MBI Publishing Company, 2004
• Life Class, by Pat Barker, Doubleday, 2008
• Suite Française, by Irène Némirovsky, Knopf, 2006
• Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert, Modern Library Edition, Random House, 1992. Translated by Francis Steegmuller
Thanks also must be given to Julien Sanchez and the Toul Visitors Bureau for their timely and important research on their historic and lovely town during World War I; to Jean-Marie Jac-queme for his French translation skills. Also, as a reminder to the reader, the Red Cross is an internationally recognized trademarked symbol used during times of war and natural disaster.
This book could not have been written and edited without the exceptional skills of my beta readers, Scott Colella, Ricardo DeFrutos, Michael Grenier, Robert Pinsky, and my wonderful writing colleague who is now sadly missed, Leslie Lombino Schultz. All, in their way, contributed to the final creation of The Sculptress. I also have relied upon a community of writers, from the members of Florida Romance Writers in South Florida, to the equally inspiring members of the Writers’ Room of Boston. Special thanks go out to Karen Kendall, Kathleen Catalano, and Traci E. Hall for their sage advice and unwavering support.
Writing is never easy, but the process is one of the most gratifying in the world. I love it, even though it often drives me to insanity. I shudder to think what my life would have been like had I not immersed myself in the world of books as a child. This novel, my fifth for Kensington, was written nearly twelve years ago and has undergone extensive revision since the initial draft.
I write about women who have taken a stand in history—sometimes they are overwhelmed by their fictional circumstances, but their struggle is always real, always worth fighting for. A reader told me a few years back that I must have had a “strong” mother to write such heroines. I did. I thank my mother, Gretchen, for giving me the fortitude and discipline necessary to undertake such a daunting task as the creation of a novel. I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention my former writing partner, and still wonderful friend, Jenifer Otwell, who provided a huge stepping-stone on this journey.
As always, thanks go to my astute editor, John Scognamiglio, for his faith in this book; and to my steadfast agent, Evan S. Marshall, for his business and literary acumen.