This book is the favorite of a woman I know about, who earns her living by writing whatever she feels like. That's huge; if someone asked me what my favorite book was, I'd have a hard time answering. And who knows, maybe she's a bigger reader than I am.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I, for one, almost gave up on this book in tears. Did I mention that since I've had a baby, my heart has become a lot more sensitive? Well, this book twisted my heart, quite unexpectedly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I didn't (abandon it, I mean; I cried, that's for sure), simply because it was too good, too well written. And I'm thankful, because this heart-wrenching event was handled so well that I didn't feel my emotion had been in vain. In the end, this book was a delight that fascinated me and opened my mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Two artist couples, who have their children at the same time, are neighbors and friends for decades. Life goes by, with its share of misfortunes, joys and disappointments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The premise didn't particularly interest me. Often, the artist characters we meet in fiction are a bit of assholes with romantic pretensions, let's face it. But the artists in this book are among the most interesting and engaging I've ever met. Not only are they authentic and unpretentious, but they discuss their art with a language that made sense to me. Large chunks of the book are devoted to describing certain works, and it was fascinating. I wanted to rush off to a museum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then, as I mentioned earlier, the way in which a shocking event (which I'll leave you to discover) was handled impressed me greatly. It was simple, beautiful and incredibly realistic. My despair was transformed into compassion, then into a kind of gentle melancholy, in a subtle and ably way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This is an exquisite novel, written by a master of the written word, perfectly fair, and I can't imagine anyone who reads it not being moved by it. Go for it.<\/p>\n\n\n