A Perfect Fit: Lucy's Cover

The painting by Paul Gauguin on the cover of Lucy is a perfect reflection of what lies beneath it: the story of a young woman exploring and embracing her sexuality and discovering who she is. The woman in the painting on the cover of the novel is obviously very open and comfortable with her sexuality, as she is naked from the waist up (this is actually a common form of "dress" in Gauguin's work). Interestingly, a picture of Lucy depicted in nearly the exact same way as the woman on the cover of the novel is described on page 155: "He [Paul] brought us...a photograph he had taken of me standing over a boiling pot of food. In the picture I was naked from the waist up; a piece of cloth, wrapped around me, covered me from the waist down." This picture (and the one on the cover) helps us understand that, although Lucy is very open about her sexuality, she does not use it with the intention of forming relationships with the men she is with. In the painting on the cover, the woman has her hand raised slightly, almost as if trying to distance herself from the people looking at her; she embraces her sexuality but avoids attachment. Similarly, when Paul gives Lucy the photo described on page 155, Lucy says, "That was the moment he got the idea he possessed me in a certain way, and that was the moment I grew tired of him" (155). Lucy loses all sexual interest in Paul as soon as she sees that he thinks he has some kind of ownership or relationship with her. The painting on the cover serves as a visual depiction of Lucy's sexuality and desire for independence throughout the novel.


Another interesting aspect about the cover art of Lucy is the title of the painting, Savage Poems. This has several connections to the novel. First of all, it reminds us of the daffodil poem that Lucy had to recite in school when she was young (for more on this subject, refer to my blog post directly preceding this one). Secondly, the word "savage" takes on several meanings. Perhaps this is how Lucy feels others view her, or maybe this is how the English colonists (like the ones who made her recite the daffodil poem) viewed the people living on the island that she comes from.

I hate to use a cliche, particularly given the fact that I am an English Wrting major (hopefully none of my English profs will read this blog), but sometimes a picture really is worth a million words. To evoke a less corny and overused argument for the power of the cover art, I'll refer you to a question that Lucy poses on page 121 and encourage you to share your responses to it: "Why is a picture of something real eventually more exciting than the thing itself?" Do you agree with Lucy that pictures are often more intriguing than the things depicted in them? Why or why not? How would you interpret this question with regard to the cover art of Lucy or the photograph described on page 155?