Take me to the River: Sophie Anderson and Elaine of Astolat

Abstract

Sophie Gengembre Anderson (1823–1903) is not a painter of considerable critical acclaim; her work has been largely disregarded by art history and criticism, charged on the often-fatal count of sentimentality and lumped in with the kinds of ‘kitsch’ art rejected by modernism and its descendants. Despite this, her work continues to sell – at multi-million-dollar auctions and printed on cheap paraphernalia. Anderson’s appeal at these very different cultural echelons is testament to her technical effectiveness and to the enduring quality of her particular brand of Victorian mawkishness, and though her many paintings of children may never quite find purchase amidst the innovations and revelations of art in the recent century, these qualities do lend themselves to a deeply sympathetic mode of historical and literary painting. Anderson’s large, Tennyson-inspired literary depiction of Elaine of Astolat signalled her desire to enter the aggressively male-dominated space of historical and literary art and offers a valuable new perspective on a story and a character which has been so often – even obsessively – depicted by men. Elaine, which sits high above the entryway to Liverpool’s Walker Art Gallery, was one of the first such paintings by a woman to be purchased with public funds, and it represents a valuable entry-point for critique – both of the Victorian art establishment and of Tennyson’s Idylls of the King. Anderson’s artistic choices betray a profound sympathy for Elaine of Astolat and serve to highlight the pathos of a character who has seen her story and her character distorted from its inception.