
Mauve

By Simon Garfield
Reviewed by
Kenny Brechner
That a book might easily have
had a different name is neither unusual nor disgraceful. Eiji Yoshikawa’s
masterful epic of feudal Japan, Taiko, for example, would have been just
as happy to have been named Nobunaga, since Hideyoshi and Nobunaga are
equally central to the story. In the case of Simon Garfield’s new book Mauve:
How One Man Invented A Color That Changed The World, the reader is drawn to
reflecting that the book might as easily been titled Coal Tar: How one
Chemically Potent Substance Changed the World, or The Rise and Mildly
Interesting Genesis of the Dye Industry, or Tincture and Trade: The
Development of Commercialism In The Chemical Sciences 1856-2001.
Mauve is a very short book,
but not even a skilled writer such as Garfield could have stretched and pulled
the story of William Perkin, the eighteen year old English Chemist who invented
the color Mauve, across its pages. Perkins retired wealthy at 36 and kept mostly
to himself. Nor do any of the adjacent strands of the dye story particularly
stand out as being the central theme for a book.
The Mauve fad, initiated by
Queen Victoria wearing Mauve to a Royal Wedding and The Empress Eugenie deciding
"that Mauve was a color that matched her eyes," is an interesting
historical anecdote. Also interesting are the tales of the scientific and
mercantile communities’ awakening to the commercial and medical potentialities
of chemistry, the industrial genesis of the dye industry, and even the
laymen’s overview of the abstraction of chemical substances from coal tar.
The Problem with Mauve
is that the composite sum of these mauve connected themes is a good dinner party
conversation topic, not a good book. Mauve, ultimately, is a vibrant color, not
the glue to hold a narrative together. Garfield’s exhaustive exhumation of
everything mauve in word and deed has an almost desperate quality to it, as
though lots of research and dramatic chapter heading will somehow bring his
disjointed narrative to life.
Chapter headings such as The
Terrible Glare, Self Destruction, Mauve Measles, and Poisoning the Clientele,
all advertise a dramatic tone that is nowhere evident. Chapters begin with a
mauve related quote or quotes, whether from O.J. Simpson Attorney Johnny
Cochrane, who "insisted his suit was blue. ‘Just don’t call it
mauve,’ he said." or from Oscar Wilde who advised that one should
"never trust a woman who wears mauve,". These quotes, while succeeding
in demonstrating the changing social attitudes to mauve, are laughable in their
hyper dramatic role of chapter heading quotations.
This is not to say that the
residue of history, like the residue of coal, does not yield, when properly
manipulated, a useful abstract. Yet when the time comes for Garfield to elicit a
sentimental outpouring from the reader regarding the forgotten fame of William
Perkin, and the derogatory connotation of Mauve in contemporary English usage,
the reader is not prepared to cooperate. And indeed, no injustice has been done.