Review by Ian Keogh

Liv Strömquist opens The Reddest Rose by listing a succession of the girlfriends Leonardo DiCaprio’s broken up with since 2011. They follow a pattern, with models a lifestyle choice, while the age of each replacement remains mid-twenties despite DiCaprio heading toward fifty. That’s not Strömquist’s point, though, which is using DiCaprio to pose the question of whether being in love as humanity has understood it for centuries still exists in the early 21^st century. Because DiCaprio makes such similar choices are they just narcissistic reflections of his idealised self?

That’s the sort of thought-provoking and generally provocative type of observation common to The Reddest Rose, which follows up by presenting the thesis that love so often fails because we’ve reduced it to yet another consumer choice. It’s a meander through possibilities dropping in on romantics through the ages, thankfully with minimal recourse to poetry. As we’re all individuals, though, those possibilities are narrowed by how much perceived wisdom anyone takes on board.

As with Strömquist’s earlier Fruit of Knowledge, this has the feeling of an illustrated lecture, but lacking the visceral passion characterising Fruit of Knowledge. Again, it quotes heavily from other sources, but those sources themselves are more open to subjective interpretation. The common form of masculinity has changed over the centuries if adhering only to a line from the straightjacketed literary hero reflecting the 19^th century ideal. Has it changed so much, though, from the 19^th century cad and bounder, or has a more refined form of that personality actually become today’s norm? Is it now the case that women are more likely to want exclusive relationships because they’ve taken on the sociological role of wanting children, as per Eva Illouz’s quoted theory, or is it because society has progressed, if not to equality, to a point where women can express their opinions? This isn’t to say there’s a right or wrong to either postulation, but it represents how The Reddest Rose will have you thinking.

A study of romantic love in the modern era isn’t a universal crowd pleaser, but if the idea pricks the interest then The Reddest Rose is a volume to savour. It’s smart, it’s well researched and it’s convincingly presented. Okay, the art is functional, but one of Strömquist’s points in passing is that we can’t have everything.