This atmospheric, tautly beautiful second novel from the US-born, London-based Chevalier was inspired by the painting by Vermeer in which a young girl glances back over her shoulder. The narrator, Griet, is that girl and she tells the story of how she was sent off to work as a maid when her father could no longer support the family. She is sharp and alert and perhaps too intelligent. Yet the narrative develops from that intelligence.
On arriving at the Vermeer household in a part of Delft which is alien to her Griet assesses the women of the house: Vermeer's wary and perpetually pregnant wife, her mother (the real mistress) and a touchy old family servant. Although upset at leaving her family, Griet soon proves to be an able survivor and an astute reader of personalities. Nor is she a saint, and she complains about her lot, particularly the religious paintings which frighten her. "At night I covered the Cruxifixion hanging at the foot of my bed with the apron I had worn that day. I slept better then". The sly eldest daughter takes a dislike to her and sets about adding to her problems. One of the achievements of the book is also one of its most irritating features. Young Griet is vain and is increasingly aware of her emerging sexuality. She also reveals an unexpected understanding of the tiny details which determine the mood of a painting. Challenged by Vermeer for adjusting a tablecloth, she defends her act: "There needs to be some disorder in the scene, to contrast with her tranquillity. . . something to tease the eye". If her suggestions to the master seem improbable, she is also soon secretly preparing pigments for him, all the while risking incurring the rage of the women of the house should she neglect her chores. Griet is drawn to the painter who sees her uses. Much of the sexual tension is expressed by Griet's frustration and half-hearted acceptance of a young butcher, while Vermeer's interest in her is ultimately that of the selfish artist intent on perfection and he consistently compromises her. His remoteness is brilliantly juxtaposed with her resentment.
As historical fiction, Girl With a Pearl Earring convinces, but as a study of human nature, honed by hindsight, it dazzles. Chevalier brings an impressive combination of passion, outrage and perception to a novel which is beautiful and brutal.
Eileen Battersby is an Irish Times journalist and a critic
