51 pages • 1-hour read
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Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of racism, religious discrimination, and death.
Edmund de Waal recounts how his interest in pottery began as a child. At the age of 17, he became an apprentice potter, training in England and under artisans in Japan. In 1991, he spent a year in Tokyo, learning Japanese and making porcelain. Once a week, he visited his 84-year-old great-uncle Iggie, a long-term resident of the city. Iggie had a collection of 264 netsuke (miniature Japanese carvings) displayed in a vitrine (or glass display case). Many of the wood and ivory carvings dated back to pre-modern Japanese dynasties, depicting fruit, people, and animals, including a hare with amber eyes. Taking them out of the cabinet so de Waal could handle them, Iggie would recall how a Parisian cousin gave the netsuke to his parents. He would also describe how he and his sisters, Elisabeth and Gisela, loved playing with them as children. These reminiscences turned to stories about the summers they spent at Kövesces, their country house in Czechoslovakia. When Iggie died in 1994, de Waal inherited the collection.
De Waal wants to unearth the whole story of the netsuke. As a starting point, he knows that his great-grandfather’s cousin, Charles Ephrussi, bought the collection in the 1870s. Charles, a Russian who lived in Paris, later gave the netsuke to Viktor von Ephrussi (de Waal’s great-grandfather) in Vienna. De Waal also knows that his ancestors were Jewish and “staggeringly rich” (18). He decides to devote three or four months to researching their history, visiting Japan, Paris, and Vienna.
Traveling to France, de Waal visits Charles Ephrussi’s first home in Paris, the Hôtel Ephrussi on Rue de Monceau. The street is lined with neoclassical mansions, and the Hôtel is one of the most beautiful buildings, with a honey-colored facade. Charles and his brother Ignace had separate suites on the second floor, while their elder brother, Jules, lived below with their widowed mother, Mina. The building now belongs to a medical insurance company, and de Waal follows a courier inside. The glass dome that once covered the Hôtel’s courtyard no longer exists, but the interior remains tastefully grand.
The Ephrussi family’s wealth sprang from the entrepreneurialism of Charles’s Russian grandfather, Charles Joachim Ephrussi. A grain merchant who lived in the Jewish settlement of Odessa, he bought and exported Ukrainian wheat. From humble origins, he became one of the world’s largest cereal exporters. Charles Joachim’s ambitions mirrored those of another Jewish family, the Rothschilds. He aimed to develop valuable social connections and establish banking networks across Europe. To further this plan, he sent his sons to Europe to become financiers.
In 1857, the Ephrussi brothers and their families moved to Vienna, then part of the powerful Austro-Hungarian Empire. The large household included Charles Joachim’s eldest son, Leon, his wife Mina, and their children: Jules, Ignace, Charles, and Betty. Leon’s younger brother, Ignace, his wife Emilie, and their three children (Stefan, Anna, and Viktor) also lived there. All the children were fluent in French, German, and English, and were forbidden to speak the Yiddish they had learned in Odessa. The older boys (Jules, Ignace, and Stefan) went with their fathers to the Ephrussi offices, while the youngest cousins, Charles and Viktor, stayed at home. Charles was charming, bookish, and enjoyed sketching. Neither he nor Viktor showed an interest in business.
Leon and his family relocated to Paris to expand the family’s business interests. In 1871, the Ephrussis had two opulent homes built in new districts largely inhabited by wealthy Jewish families: the Hôtel Ephrussi on Rue de Monceau in Paris and the Palais Ephrussi on the Ringstrasse in Vienna. Leon erected a family tomb in the Jewish section of Montmartre’s cemetery when Betty died.
During a Grand Tour of Italy, 21-year-old Charles Ephrussi became a collector, buying Renaissance art, sculpture, and a large, elaborate Renaissance bed. Reading the inventory of his purchases, de Waal reflects that Charles was “too rich for his own good” (44). The author decides to familiarize himself with Charles by reading everything he wrote. He spends several weeks reading Charles’s essays, noting that they show intelligence and a growing depth of art appreciation.
Leon’s eldest son, Jules, became head of Ephrussi & Co. and married Fanny Pfeiffer. Meanwhile, the middle son, Ignace, gained notoriety for his scandalous love affairs and duels with rivals. While researching a book on the German artist Albrecht Dürer, Charles regularly visited the offices of the Gazette des Beaux-Arts and began writing for the publication. His regular attendance at fashionable Paris salons was noted by two novelists: Edmond de Goncourt and Marcel Proust. In his journal, de Goncourt expressed disgust that Jews had been permitted access to the salons and was critical of Charles’s friendship with the influential aristocrat, Princess Mathilde. De Goncourt also wrote scathingly about Charles’s affair with a married woman.
Charles’s lover was Countess Louise Cahen d’Anvers. Married to a Jewish banker and the mother of five children, Louise shared Charles’s interest in collecting Japanese lacquer boxes. Japanese art had become highly fashionable since its first arrival in Europe in the 1850s. The artists Édouard Manet, Edgar Degas, and Claude Monet became avid collectors. Japanese objets d’art were often highly tactile, featuring materials and textures never seen in Europe before.
European art collectors were transfixed by the “exoticism” of Japanese art. At social gatherings, netsuke collections were often taken out of their vitrines (glass display cases) and passed around. Erotic netsuke were particularly popular.
Charles bought a collection of 264 netsuke and a black vitrine to display them.
Charles became the editor of the Gazette des Beaux-Arts and a respected art historian. The letters of Charles’s personal secretary, Jules Laforgue, describe his employer’s study. Charles was surrounded by color and art as he worked. His armchair was yellow, and the netsuke were displayed alongside a collection of Impressionist art.
In Charles’s book on Dürer, he describes “vagabonding” across Europe in search of drawings by the artist. De Waal observes that the description makes light of exceptionally thorough research. Charles was an early advocate for the Impressionist painters at a time when much of the established art world failed to recognize their merit. Over three years, he bought 40 Impressionist paintings, including works by Degas, Manet, and Monet and by Berthe Morisot, Mary Cassatt, Alfred Sisley, Pissarro, and Pierre-Auguste Renoir. Charles befriended many of the artists, and illustrated his generosity as a patron by paying over the asking price for a Manet still life of a bunch of asparagus. As thanks, Manet sent Charles a second painting of one asparagus stalk that had “slipped from the bundle” (88). Renoir’s Le Dejeuner des canotiers depicts Charles among a group of people at a restaurant by the Seine. Standing at the back of the picture, he wears a top hat, and his head is slightly turned away from the viewer.
Charles commissioned Renoir to paint Louise Cahen d’Anvers and her daughters. He also began collecting the paintings of the Symbolist artist Gustave Moreau, signaling a shift in artistic taste. Renoir was scathingly critical of Moreau’s work and of Charles’s enthusiasm for it, suggesting that the artist used gold colours specifically to appeal to Jews. By age 40, Charles was the owner of the Gazette.
During the 1880s, antisemitism grew in Paris, and Jewish financiers were frequently its target. Jewish families were accused of plotting together to make greater profits and intermarrying to gain further power. Edouard Drumont, the editor of an antisemitic newspaper, depicted the Jewish people as a threat to French society. His inflammatory articles emphasized how the Jewish families who owned many of France’s grandest properties originated from the “ghettos” of other European countries. Drumont accused Charles of having an interest in only the financial value of art.
After their mother died in 1891, Charles and his brother Ignace moved to a larger property on the Avenue d’Léna. By this time, Japanese items were so common that they were considered “bric-a-brac.” Charles filled his new home with 18th-century French art and furniture.
In 1894, the Dreyfus Affair divided French opinion. Alfred Dreyfus, a Jewish officer, was accused of being a spy and found guilty on forged evidence. The decision inspired Émile Zola’s famous appeal to the French President, “J’accuse,” denouncing the systemic antisemitism that Dreyfus’s conviction exposed. The long campaign to have Dreyfus retried prompted accusations that French Jews were attempting to pervert the course of justice. Dreyfus was reconvicted three times, and Zola fled to England after being convicted of libel. The Ephrussi family’s pro-Dreyfus stance prompted Charles’s artist friends Degas, Cezanne, and Renoir to turn against him. Proust portrayed this shift of opinion in his novel Swann’s Way: In Search of Lost Time. Charles was one of two individuals who inspired the character of Swann, a Jewish art collector and patron whose social standing becomes precarious when antisemitic sentiment erupts during the Dreyfus Affair.
By the time Charles was 50, he had developed a heart condition and stopped purchasing art. Louise Cahen d’Anvers had moved on to a younger lover, Crown Prince Alphonse of Spain. In 1899, Charles’s youngest cousin, Viktor, married Baroness Emmy Schey von Koromla. Jules and Fanny sent a Louis XVI dressing table as a wedding gift, while Ignace gifted them a Dutch Old Master painting. Charles sent 264 netsuke in a black vitrine.
In the Prologue and Part 1, de Waal thematically explores Objects as Vessels of Memory and Continuity through the interwoven histories of his family and their collection of Japanese netsuke. The author reflects, “What is being passed on to me with all these small Japanese objects?” (20), conveying that his inheritance of the netsuke entails an obligation to engage with his identity as a descendant of the Ephrussi family. His desire to know the history of both the netsuke and his family defines the book’s blend of the personal and historical, merging memoir, art history, and family biography.
De Waal uses the journey as a structural narrative device. His research trips, beginning in Paris, retrace the Ephrussi family’s migrations and the netsuke ownership. The author constructs a literary portrait of Charles Ephrussi by consulting various sources, including Charles’s essays, the artwork he owned, and the observations of his contemporaries. Beginning with an initial distaste for the young Charles’s conspicuous wealth, de Waal charts how he warms to his subject. The author feels an increasing affinity with Charles as he sees parallels between them, such as their mutual passion for art and commitment to scholarly research. De Waal’s frequent use of the present tense when describing past events gives his prose an immersive immediacy. He includes reflections, such as “I imagine Louise, red-gold and Titian-like in mauve velvet, walking the few hundred yards up the hill to her vast faux-Renaissance mansion and her husband” (120), and these reflections show the author’s use of imagination in reconstructing events. At the same time, de Waal admits that there are some things he will never know. His rhetorical question “Did [Charles] fall in love with the startlingly pale hare with amber eyes, and buy the rest for company?” (74) emphasizes that many facts are irretrievably lost to history while reflecting the author’s fascination with this particular netsuke.
In addition, Part 1 establishes the book’s thematic exploration of The Jewish Diaspora and the Fragility of Assimilation. In describing the Ephrussis’ origins in Odessa, a settlement in the Russian Empire where Jews were “permitted” to live, de Waal emphasizes that the Jewish family did not experience true assimilation, even in their homeland. While Odessa was a vital center for Jewish culture and migration, it was also the location of several anti-Jewish pogroms (massacres). The author highlights how, once established in Paris and Vienna, the family deliberately distanced itself from its cultural heritage, raising multilingual children who were forbidden from speaking Yiddish. The Hôtel Ephrussi, the Palais Ephrussi, and the family’s Montmartre tomb are not only signs of “a family in its ascendancy” (28) but also aspirational symbols of permanence during la belle époque of the late 19th century.
Charles Ephrussi embodies the complex intersections of art, wealth, and identity that define the Ephrussi family’s story. De Waal suggests that, like the influx of Japanese art into Paris, Charles was briefly admired but then faced increasing discrimination. Highlighting the dramatic nature of Charles’s fall from grace, from patron of the arts to social outcast, is Renoir’s ostracism of him only years after portraying him among other friends in Luncheon of the Boating Party. De Waal’s portrayal of Charles emphasizes how the insidious undercurrent of anti-Jewish sentiment in France, which de Goncourt’s observations about Charles’s affair with a married woman encapsulated, became mainstream after the Dreyfus Affair.



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