The painter isn’t some flawlessly happy protagonist: she’s angry, exhausted, and bitter, but in all the best ways. To you these might seem like unimaginable luxuries. She did not ask for the beauty that attracted him. That feeling-that utter helplessness-was precisely where I found myself through every page I turned.
You’ll never manage to go back in time, to put yourself in exactly the right moment, the right space, to prevent these damages from occurring. Have you ever watched two vehicles collide? It feels like time slows down right before it happens, and of course, you wish you could stop it before it begins, but you’ll never be quick enough. Those were all of the traits that I was expecting, but what I wasn’t expecting was for the book to be written mostly in verse (incredible), partially in second-person narrative (haunting), one of the heaviest and most heart-breaking things I would ever read (devastated me), and one of the single most important works of literature to ever grace my shelf.Īrtemisia’s words are beautiful, angry, passionate, and chilling-but if you already know where it’s headed, it’s a tough one to read. I didn’t know much about the writing itself, but I knew that it was historical fiction (check), feminist (check), widely beloved by a slew of my favorite authors (check), and about an actual human being (check). When I was given the opportunity to participate in a blog tour for this book’s release, I was absolutely elated. Content warnings: sexual assault, misogyny, suicidal thoughts, violence, brief physical torture, victim-blaming, slut-shaming, murder, betrayal
0 kommentar(er)
