The character of Suzanne Manet in Susan Vreeland’s Olympia’s Look is best portrayed through juxtaposition of Victorine Meurent as her foil. Whereas, Victorine is portrayed as “commanding” (73), “imperious” (76) and “confrontational” (76), Suzanne is quiet, demure, and inelegant. Suzanne appears to be the typical Dutch wife, dutifully loving her husband despite signs of transgression, never arguing, simply being an unembellished and humble creature. The Frenchwomen that surround her, from the royal Victorine to the “frivolous child” (77) Isabelle, never act as anything less than courtesans worthy of attention, and truly they demand it at every turn. This contrast starkly highlights Suzanne’s plain nature and wholly unpretentious character.
The passage on page 74 beginning “She quailed every time…” and ending “That was the wonder of the man,” emphasizes this submissive nature of Suzanne. Suzanne describes the trepidation with which she wonders of Edouard’s affairs as well as the binding love she has for him that “felt the whole world sing” in spite of her worries. Suzanne reminisces on their glorious love and the way he always made her feel beautiful. This ultimately shows the dutiful nature Suzanne has as a wife and the innocence of her love. She fully believes in the strength of their love, yet has the knowledge of his model lovers in the back of her mind. The fact that she continues loving him so significantly despite his “secret” affairs is symbolic of her modest and unpresuming persona. Moreover, this passage is well written in that the power of Suzanne’s feelings is strongly portrayed through descriptions such as “those first breathless days” and “we loved with a love beyond all dreaming”.
Additionally, the passage on page 86 beginning “Collaborated!” and ending with “knowing what she would say next,” reveals a transformation in Suzanne’s character. Unlike the demure Dutch wife, Suzanne is boldly and even imperiously confronting Victorine. It is as if there has been a role reversal for Suzanne is the one demanding answers and making accusations: “Where were you when he was pelted with a hail of insults while the Olympia was at the Salon?”, “A mere commercial venture. A deal.” The quiet, accepting character has been replaced with one much more similar to the traditional French woman: self-confident, arrogant, and even domineering in attitude. It is Suzanne who “felt a mounting thrill of exhilaration” at the sight of Victorine’s fear. This shift in character is significant because it suggests that Suzanne has finally had enough of being ignored and always being in the background. The bounty of Edouard’s lovers is no longer intimidating but a thing to be confronted. Although it is beneficial that Suzanne has finally found her voice and shows she does indeed have a backbone, it is too little too late. Edouard is dead, and Suzanne is alone with no husband to confront.
It is suggested that Suzanne’s change in character will be permanent rather that fleeting. At the very end of the story, Suzanne mails Edouard’s love letter to Isabelle, with the word “Collaborator” (91) attached to the address. In this finally act of defiance, the new persona of Suzanne, slightly cutthroat, hardened, and bitter, is indicated to have permanence as the future continues to unfold. Suzanne’s new independence, modeled after the Frenchwomen, will continue into the future, slowly enveloping and ultimately destroying the bashful Dutch woman that once stood in its place.
