Review: The Paris Deception

You know I love a good historical fiction set during the wars. What you may not know is how interested I am in any storyline that references the theft of art from (mostly Jewish) individuals by the Nazis. I’m horrified by it but also fascinated by those who did everything they could to hide pieces, make lists of what was stolen, and tried to track the artwork down after the war. So, it was no surprise I was interested in reading The Paris Deception by Bryn Turnbull. I was fascinated from the start and the historical tale she told was entertaining and engaging.

Here’s the book’s description:

Sophie Dix fled Stuttgart with her brother as the Nazi regime gained power in Germany. Now, with her brother gone and her adopted home city of Paris conquered by the Reich, Sophie reluctantly accepts a position restoring damaged art at the Jeu de Paume museum under the supervision of the ERR—a German art commission using the museum as a repository for art they’ve looted from Jewish families. 
Fabienne Brandt was a rising star in the Parisian bohemian arts movement until the Nazis put a stop to so-called “degenerate” modern art. Still mourning the loss of her firebrand husband, she’s resolved to muddle her way through the occupation in whatever way she can—until her estranged sister-in-law, Sophie, arrives at her door with a stolen painting in hand.
Soon the two women embark upon a plan to save Paris’s “degenerates,” working beneath the noses of Germany’s top art connoisseurs to replace the paintings in the Jeu de Paume with skillful forgeries—but how long can Sophie and Fabienne sustain their masterful illusion?

Sometimes dual narrative storylines bother me. Usually because one character doesn’t have as much to do with the story and it can seem obvious that the author is padding the novel because there isn’t enough historical detail to fully flesh out one character’s story. That wasn’t the case with this book. Sophie and Fabienne had very different roles to play even while they were working towards the same goal. They also had very different backgrounds which allowed the reader to gain a better understanding of what life would have been like during this time. Sophie’s past, especially, was eye-opening. I know it’s just fiction but I felt Turnbull was able to illustrate how it would have felt for anyone living in Germany as Hitler gained more and more power prior to the outbreak of World War II.

I must say that I don’t think I cared about the main characters as much as I think I was supposed to. I liked them and was rooting for them, of course. But I don’t know if I was particularly invested. I cared far more about the art and the work they were doing to save it. Was this a personal bias? Perhaps. This is a part of history that fascinates (and saddens) me. Maybe I was just too focused on that rather than making sure I was caring more about the characters.

As with many war novels, I found myself wondering what I would do if I found myself in Sophie or Fabienne’s positions. Would I have smuggled art out of a museum at the risk of my own life? Would those small acts of resistance been enough or would I, unlike the women in the book, have formally joined the Resistance? Would I have hid Jewish families in my home? Or would I have turned a blind eye and just tried to survive the Nazi occupation in my city? We all hope we’d be brave and on the right side of history (you know, the side where people weren’t being murdered for their beliefs), but we can’t really know. Not until we’re faced with that choice. It’s a sobering thing to think about and I’m glad authors like Turnbull write books that show the shades of grey that was just trying to survive the war. It’s not as black and white as our history books make it seem.

The Paris Deception was my first Bryn Turnbull novel but it certainly won’t be my last. She’s a talented author with a knack for finding interesting parts of history to write about. Lovers of art and historical fiction should think about checking this one out.

*An egalley of this novel was provided by the publisher, HarperCollins Canada, in exchange for review consideration. All opinions are honest and my own.* 

Review: Attribution

Attribution should have been a book that worked for me. Linda Moore’s novel, which was published back on October 11, 2022, had art and history with a dash of intrigue. All things I very much enjoy. But something just didn’t click and the novel, with such promise, ended up being a miss for me.

Here’s the book’s description:

Art historian Cate Adamson, still grieving the death of her brother and desperate to succeed, leaves her troubled parents in the Midwest to complete her doctorate in New York, only to find herself assigned to a misogynist advisor. She attempts to impress him until she discovers a hidden painting, possibly a Baroque masterpiece, in the university basement. Risking her career, financial disaster, and further alienation from her family, she flees to Spain with the painting to consult art experts.
Antonio, an impoverished duke, clings to the decaying legacy of the House of Olivares. When he meets Cate on the train to Seville, he joins her search, and together they uncover evidence in his five hundred-year old library to support the painting's provenance including a document about the artist's final years that will shock the titans of art history. But Cate vacillates about revealing the truth, fearful that it may destroy her career, her family's expectations, and her future with Antonio.

I wasn’t totally sure why this book didn’t work for me at the time I read it and I’m even less sure now, all these months later. I can tell my initial feelings were accurate and the fact that the story didn’t stick with me is telling. Sometimes I may not initially love a book but once I sit with it awhile, I find myself still thinking about it or finally understanding some of the nuances that I had missed when I was reading it. That was not the case with Attribution. I don’t want to say I’ve forgotten all of it, because I haven’t, but the story and the writing have not stayed with me.

I think, perhaps, part of my issue was with Cate herself. She didn’t make a ton of sense to me and I questioned almost every single one of her choices. She seemed scared but also impulsive and brave and her personality remained a mystery to me throughout the entire book. I know it’s easier to hide from grief but pushing her parents away wasn’t helping any of them. I also haven’t been trying to pursue a…ok, I actually forget what piece of paper Cate is trying to get in the book so let’s go with…PhD so I really don’t understand the cutthroat world of research and advisors and all that stuff. I also think any readers who aren’t involved in the art world themselves (like me) will be a bit confused at how that world works and why Cate’s career is in such jeopardy.

As I said at the start, this book should have worked for me. I love the idea of art history and missing art. Well, I don’t love that art is missing or was stolen but the uncovering process is thrilling to me. I love the hunt for provenance and restoring a piece of art to its rightful owners. I love looking at art (I could happily spend a day wandering through art galleries) and I love creating it (though I’m not an expert by any means). I should, then, love reading about art. And I did enjoy the thought and care that I could tell Moore put into the story. She understands art and that world. That love and passion did come through and I was glad of that.

I’ll end by saying I seem to be very much in the minority regarding my feelings about Attribution. The Goodreads page for Linda Moore’s novel gives it a very respectable 4.35 average rating. Could it be that I got too weighed down by nitpicky things and just couldn’t be as wowed by the story as others have been? Quite possibly. I’d say it’s still one to consider if you absolutely adore art history and art mystery!

*An egalley of this novel was provided by the publisher, She Writes Press, via NetGalley in exchange for review consideration. All opinions are honest and my own.*