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I have never read a text which goes even half as far as this one in expressing the particular poignancy which lay at the heart of the impressionist movement. I say this as an art critic. As a novelist I would simply like to pay my tribute to the mastery of language, portraiture and storytelling which Figes has now at her command. - John Berger
A small masterpiece - Susan Hill
A luminous prose poem - Joyce Carol Oates

This shimmering novel is an extraordinary portrait of a day in the life of an artist at work and at home. In prose as luminous as the colours Monet is using to portray his garden, Eva Figes guides us from dawn (midnight blueblack growing grey and misty') through midday (the sun was high now shrinking what little shadow remained, fading colours, the pink rambler roses on the fence by the railway track looked almost white') to evening (the tide of shadows rising as the sunset glow faded outside.') Monet's wife, grieving for a lost

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Paperback by Eva Figes

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I have never read a text which goes even half as far as this one in expressing the particular poignancy... Read more

    Publisher: Pallas Athene Publishers
    Publication Date: 1/18/2024
    ISBN13: 9781843682431, 978-1843682431
    ISBN10: 1843682435

    Fiction , Contemporary Fiction

    Description

    I have never read a text which goes even half as far as this one in expressing the particular poignancy which lay at the heart of the impressionist movement. I say this as an art critic. As a novelist I would simply like to pay my tribute to the mastery of language, portraiture and storytelling which Figes has now at her command. - John Berger
    A small masterpiece - Susan Hill
    A luminous prose poem - Joyce Carol Oates

    This shimmering novel is an extraordinary portrait of a day in the life of an artist at work and at home. In prose as luminous as the colours Monet is using to portray his garden, Eva Figes guides us from dawn (midnight blueblack growing grey and misty') through midday (the sun was high now shrinking what little shadow remained, fading colours, the pink rambler roses on the fence by the railway track looked almost white') to evening (the tide of shadows rising as the sunset glow faded outside.') Monet's wife, grieving for a lost

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