Somewhat disappointed by this book. I'd say it's because I love van Gogh so much, but my love for the artist is really the only thing that kept me reading. The writing was excellent, but nothing much happened in this novel. It could have been so much more. It's still fiction, so go ahead and make some stuff up- like a romance between van Gogh and the doctor's daughter? It was right there! Also, somewhat poor timing in light of the recent speculations that van Gogh was indeed murdered and did not commit suicide.

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I saw that everyone has heard of Van Gogh, you know, that guy with the pretty sort of impressionist paintings who was missing part of his ear. You probably sited Starry Night as your favorite painting when you were little and didn't know other paintings existed (I did). Leaving Van Gogh is about the last year of Vincent's life. Told from the perspective of Van Gogh's physician - Dr. Gachet - Wallace captures the pain and the occasional joy that marks Vincent's in around the doctor and the work he's creating as well as providing an interesting look into the 19th century's mental health practices.

Leaving Van Gogh was your typical artsy historical fiction. It provided a good insight into his deteriorating mental state and created a very sympathetic character in Vincent. When he's on he's really on, creating art, having interesting conversations, flirting with young woman, the usual for an artistic mad man. It's this Vincent that makes the novel so haunting. He is so aware of the other part of him, the depressed part that has fits and scares people that when he's just a normal man he is so passive and apologetic. Wallace's portrayal of Vincent Van Gogh is definitely what make's this story.

While Vincent is an important character, it is Dr. Gachet who the story is actually about. We see everything through his eyes as he interacts with the Van Gogh family, works on his own art and tries to make a happy home for his children. With that said, Gachet's obsession with mental illness can detract from the story. As the novel progresses the reader finds themselves spending more and more time inside Gachet's memories of sanitariums and on his wife's fight with TB. While these insights are interesting at the start, they become more self involved and less relevant as they take away from the present situation with Vincent. The main issue I found with these memories was that constantly changed the pace of the novel. Leaving Van Gogh started out as a quick, smooth read but around the half way mark I found myself shooting through the present day and struggling to get through the flash backs.

Overall Leaving Van Gogh is a good read, especially if you're interested in Van Gogh's art or the mental health system in the 1800's. At 288 pages it is a short and thought provoking summer read.

I received this book from the Goodreads giveaway and I was excited to read it. I don't know why I have waited this long to write my review. I guess I felt irrationaly guilty for posting my feelings online. Anyway, I liked the concept of Van Gogh in the late stages if his life. I had never heard of Dr. Gachet and I was interested to learn more. But I got bored...nothing really happened until Van Gogh shot himself. I recently read a different book about Van Gogh and really liked it, so it's hard to compare. There were some good parts, though. I don't want to entirely bash the book. So, if you're interested in the doctor's view of Van Gogh's death, then this book is for you!

“Leaving Van Gogh” was tragic to read from the first words. Knowing the artist’s fate made every word, every description of a painting seems colored with grief. From the perspective of a doctor that knows him briefly and is unable to alter the path of Vincent’s life, this story is beautifully heartbreaking.

“Vincent turned his head to smile at Theo. I never saw that expression again on his face. It was pure happiness and affection. I wish that some of the many, many portraits Vincent had made of himself had showed that side of him to the world, but the mood was fleeting. It was as if, from the shell of the stoical man I was getting to know, peered for an instant the tenderest creature, full of hope and delight.”

A story about an artist that lived to paint, lived to capture the brilliant colors of the world would be empty without descriptions of his paintings. Carol Wallace does a masterful job at describing not only the settings of the novel (a small village in France, an asylum, the streets of Paris), but of the art created by this amazing talent.

“My footsteps crackled as I trudged through one of the fields. No human figure emerged from the sea of grain. Vincent must have gone in a different direction. As I traversed the long field to reach the westbound path, I thought I might as well be in one of his paintings. The golden field with its infinite tones of ocher and yellow was set off by the brilliant blue sky, provided by nature to carry out Vincent’s own theory of complementary colors. Each made the other more intense. I merely crept along the seam between them, feeling very small.”

Other than the amazing visuals, the two aspects of the book that were the most powerful were the doctor’s anguish and guilt regarding the death of his wife, and Vincent’s description of his mental illness. Both men are unable to change this aspect of themselves that bring them such pain, yet without these elements of their character, they would not be who they are. Both themes dealt with such depth of emotion, such despair and anguish that it was hard to let those feelings go when I put the book down.

“He (Vincent) smiled wistfully. “All of your dealings with the mad have not taught you the important point, have they? Once the thoughts get too dreadful, we are no longer ourselves. I might no longer be Vincent. I will probably become the dreaded madman, and then I cannot find you, though I might wish to.”

This was a brilliant story, one with a depth of color and emotion, brought to life with care, and one I shall not soon forget.

Good, but kind of predictable. Solid on the facts, spun an interesting enough story around them, but it failed to move me in any significant way.

Fascinating book about the last months of Vincent's life. It gave me a view into the man that I never had. Admittedly, I am not a historian of famous artists. It would be interesting to see what the diagnosis would be for Vincent in modern day. The author handled the story beautifully, weaving the genius that was Vincent with the troubled soul.

If you want a glimpse into the soul of this brilliant man, I would definitely recommend this book.

For the last two months of his life, Vincent van Gogh lived outside of Paris in the small town of Auvers, France, under the care of Dr. Gachet. In Carol Wallace's novel Leaving Van Gogh, Dr. Gachet narrates the events of that short time period and provides a window into van Gogh's mind toward the end of his tragically short life.

Vincent van Gogh is such an intriguing character. He was undeniably an artistic genius, though many at the time didn't recognize his brilliance because he was too far out of the mainstream of his day. His relationship with Dr. Gachet is likewise fascinating. While they only knew each other for a brief time, it was during those critical days leading up to van Gogh's death and it's impossible not to be curious about how it affected them both. As a specialist in mental illnesses, Dr. Gachet would have been familiar with cases like van Gogh's, perhaps thinking he had some particular wisdom to share, or expertise that could yield some helpful insights.

Instead, it was the friendship, not the professional relationship, between van Gogh and Gachet that seemed to have the great impact on both of them. Dr. Gachet relates while taking a walk with Vincent:

In fact, one of the profound effects Vincent van Gogh had on my life was that he changed the way I saw the world. To this day, I look at the shadow beneath a bank of willows and see the brown, the green, the purple tones together, contrasting with the yellow, green, and even orange of the leaves. I notice patterns in the windows of city buildings or the ties of a railroad track, and I am always aware of the relations between colors, like the way a brick wall heightens the intensity of a green vine. I have seen much more beauty in my surroundings since that summer Vincent spent with us.

Juxtaposition and contrast is a recurring theme. Madness and genius, calm and fury, companionship and loneliness, love and hate, beauty and ugliness all appear wrapped up together, each heightening the intensity of the other.

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This was beautiful.

Undoubtedly well-researched, but dull.