Picasso: My Grandfather

She remembers being six years old and standing awkwardly in front of the gates of Picasso's grand house near Cannes. Her father, Paolo, was nervous; her eight-year-old brother held her hand. They were there to collect the weekly allowance that her grandfather grudgingly gave his son for the support of his family. Sometimes they were sent away because "le maitre" was working, or asleep; on other occasions, the gates would swing open and they would enter the intimidating chaos of Picasso's studio to face the man himself and his unpredictable moods. Looking back, Marina Picasso can understand why Picasso had so little interest in his grandchildren, but at the same time, she and her brother longed for him to love them and solve their problems. Just a few miles away down the coast, they lived a hand-to-mouth existence with a mother who inhabited her own fantasy world. Not knowing that they were totally dependent on Picasso for everything, people assumed they were rich and privileged because they bore his name. They were to live their lives under the burden of these assumptions.
And it was this that caused her brother to commit suicide by drinking a bottle of bleach the day after his grandfather died. This is a memoir of what it is like, as a young person, to try and forge an identity for oneself in the shadow of one of the greatest personalities and cultural icons of the 20th century. Marina Picasso analyzes her past and the part that her grandfather, Pablo Picasso, played in it.