Love, Fiercely began with the painting that appears on the cover. Zimmerman started out researching I. N. Phelps Stokes because of her interest in his ponderous history of New York City he wrote. When she viewed John Singer Sargent's painting of the two, though, she became captivated by his wife, Edie (nicknamed Fiercely). Thus, her studies shifted, encapsulating their romance along with the gilded age of New York.

I do not often venture into nonfiction, despite the fact that I was a history major in school. While history itself is more often fascinating than not, historians are not necessarily good writers. Many nonfiction titles read like a catalog of facts, putting the reader to sleep immediately. Zimmerman, on the other hand, has a fanciful, very fiction-oriented style. Even those who ordinarily avoid nonfiction will probably enjoy Love, Fiercely

Women end up wearing a lot of stupid things for fashion in the gilded age. Zimmerman outlines many that the Minturn girls suffered through, like corsets, absurdly large hats, leg of mutton sleeves (if you google those, the wikipedia result for 1890s fashion actually includes the famous picture of Edith and Newton), and droopy 'pouter pigeon' bosoms. What on earth does that last one mean, you might wonder. Well, I certainly did, since I don't know about any kind of pigeon except the regular ones that are everywhere, and they sure don't seem to look remotely bosom-y. I had to know, especially because I was shocked by the description of the bosoms as 'drooped at the perfect angle.' Here's what I found:


Style is for the birds.

Okay, so that is a pouter pigeon. Yikes, right? So, you're probably wondering now how this translates to clothing, and, no, it's not because the bosoms are so large that they look like birdie goiters. End result:


Bosoms: the new bellies.

Okay, that was fun, but I should probably review more than just two words of this book, huh?

What makes Edith so interesting is that she is such a strong woman. Before marriage, she posed for a sculpture, a big one, representing the public; this was rather scandalous, but she did not let it stop her. Unlike most women of her time, she felt no shame in waiting to marry until the age of 28. She even turned Nelson down the first time he proposed, unsure whether she wanted to give herself in marriage. Once married, she did take his name, but she maintained her control over her own money. Their relationship was a love match and based on equality and mutual respect.

The one thing that really bothered me about Zimmerman's account was her constant focus on the fact that their union was childless. She mentions that Edith must have wanted children, because that's what women were supposed to do back in the day. What I find odd is that she has no quotes from anyone at the time mentioning this desire for children. Also, the phrasing of it ("it would be natural for Edith to wish for children") seems to suggest that there is actually know way of knowing. If she is just making an assumption, why keep bringing it up like fact? And, if she truly believes Edith Stokes to be the new American woman, why is it so hard to believe that she might not want to be like every other woman and have children?

The Stokeses were instrumental in the evolution of New York. Newton was an architect, aside from his hobby of gathering historical views of Manhattan, and spent a lot of his career designing improved tenements. Edith was part of radical efforts too, like teaching unskilled immigrant women sewing or starting kindergartens.

Love, Fiercely is a fascinating look at turn of the century New York, although I might have been happier with a little less focus on Newton Stokes' book, especially given the fact that the title stresses the romance. ( )

This is one of the odder books I've read in a while. As other reviewers have mentioned, the title has little to do with the subject matter, and Edith and Newton Stokes, theoretically the centerpiece of the book, come off as somewhat shadowy figures. The detailed history of the compilation of Newton Stokes's master accomplishment, his "Iconography of Manhattan Island," and the coverage of the contemporary reaction to John Singer Sargent's painting of Edith Stokes (which serves as the book's cover image,) are excellent, albeit a bit too detailed for what is supposed to be a double biography. There is some superb material here, but it's probably not what most readers looking for "a Gilded Age romance" have in mind. ( )

I was quite interested in the historical aspects of this book, but I felt like the book promised a "great love story" that it never quite delivered. I was mostly interested in the relationship between Edie and her husband, and it didn't feel like the author knew that much about it. Good, but somewhat disappointing. ( )

Shamefully, I grabbed this book on the title and cover alone, and I really had no idea what I was getting into. Happily, this turned out to be a stellar read, engrossing as a novel and just as moving.

Jean Zimmerman, while researching iconography and maps of Manhattan, came across Isaac Newton Phelps Stokes, a passionate collector, reformer, and scion of Gilded Age New York City. Initially interested in him, she became fascinated by his wife, Edith Minturn, upon seeing their massive portrait by John Singer Sargent. This book came out of her curiosity about the couple.

Both Newton and Edith came from monied New York families; both were committed to social reform. Edith came from a family of beauties and was renown for her evocative expressions and stature. She was the model for Big Mary, the colossus created for the Chicago World's Fair. Newton was a brilliant architect consumed with desire to provide healthy, habitable house for the poor. Their odd courtship and devoted marriage had the elements of fiction -- such happiness and such sadness -- and I immediately fell for both of them.

In many ways, this is a discussion of an era as much as a biography of two personalities. Zimmerman's sections on art -- and the wealthy's relationship with the funding, creation, participation, and enjoyment of art -- was so eye-opening and relevatory. For example, I didn't realize it was common in the 1890s for art that was commissioned -- like portraits -- to spend a year being displayed in traveling galleries before going to live with the respective owners. Sargent's portrait of Edith and Newton was shocking -- they wore their own street clothes rather than one of his costumes, and Edith's pose is aggressive rather than demure -- and Zimmerman provides wonderful context so we understand just how daring Newton and Edith were.

This couple didn't stop at art when it came to shaking things up, but I'm rather hesitant to list details because it feels a bit spoiler-ish!

My only complaint, and this is me being wicked nit-picky, is that Edith's side of the marriage felt a bit thin to me. It's clear Newton has more ephemera preserved than his wife and as a result, Zimmerman was able to draw on his feelings and thoughts more than Edith. There were moments when Zimmerman made a pronouncement about Edith that left me wondering, 'Is that really what she felt?' and yet, I appreciated her humanizing of these two. It resonated for me and made me go from 'like' to 'love' with this biography. (You can read an excerpt via my Teaser Tuesday to get a sense of the writing style.)

I finished this book with the moody satisfaction I get from a good novel; I missed Newton and Edith, and I wanted more time with them. ( )

I enjoyed this glimpse into the lives of the rich during the Gilded Age. The history of early Manhattan and New York was explained, as the whole book was written in a very readable manner. The debutantes, the artists, their lifestyles and the making of their fortunes was fascinating. The romance between two of the fashionable 400, their marriage and enduring love amid their declining fortunes was admirable. The writings of Wharton and James are quoted quite often as they have been the chroniclers, satirical or not of this age. Would make a nice compliment to the reading of Wharton's Age of Innocence. ( )