The Portrait by Iain Pears

by Iain Pears

A comienzos del siglo XX, un influyente critico de arte viaja desde Londres hasta la costa noreste de Francia a fin de posar para un retrato que la hara un viejo amigo, un atormentado artista autoexiliado en una isla remota. Mientras le observa, el pintor recuerda sus anos de amistad, el regalo envenenado del mecenazgo del critico, su influencia e impasividad a la hora de encumbrar o destruir carreras. Una historia de traicion, hipocresia, amor prohibido, venganza, suicidio y asesinato.

Genres: Fiction, Mystery, Historical Fiction, Art, Historical, Thriller, Crime

Paperback

First published October 10, 2004

About the author

Iain Pears is an English art historian, novelist and journalist. He was educated at Warwick School, Warwick, Wadham College and Wolfson College, Oxford. Before writing, he worked as a reporter for the BBC, Channel 4 (UK) and ZDF (Germany) and correspondent for Reuters from 1982 to 1990 in Italy, France, UK and US. In 1987 he became a Getty Fellow in the Arts and Humanities at Yale University. His well-known novel series features Jonathan Argyll, art historian, though international fame first arrived with his best selling book An Instance of the Fingerpost (1998), which was translated into several languages. Pears currently lives with his wife and children in Oxford.

Reviews

[Lars Jerlach · Rating 4 out of 5]

'The Portrait' by Iain Pears is set in the early 20th century, and mostly takes place in a tiny cottage on the remote island of Houat of the northwest coast of France. It is narrated solely by a highly gifted yet tormented English painter, Henry MacAlpine, who, though born into poverty by his Scottish parents has succeeded in his creative pursuits, and is now well respected by his peers and patrons.

While in London he befriends a heartless and cruel art critic William Nasmyth, with whom he establishes a complex yet fragile symbiotic relationship. The men, although complete opposites in terms of history and character, have their lives intrinsically interwoven, mainly due to their individual crafts, but also because of their initial respect for each others disciplines.

MacAlpine early in their relationship mischievously involves the critic in an act of professional deception, and later in the story Nasmyth, by vitriolic and pernicious means, crushes the spirit of a young woman painter with whom MacAlpine is particularly friendly. Both acts infiltrate and sours the relationship between the men, and ultimately have lamentable yet predictable consequences.

The art world is, as I know first hand, a fickle place, and in Victorian times, where newspapers were often the only source of information, the art critic had tremendous influence over the success or potential failure of an artist. This frail and sometimes damning association is excellently conveyed in 'The Portrait'. The labor of the artist and the consequent work are both vital elements in the well crafted intrigue, and the entire narrative and its finely drawn characters originate from the question of what constitutes the true nature of painting.

The critic is superbly portrayed as conniving and ruthless, but MacAlpine's naive inability to anticipate or recognize the groundbreaking work of the of the European painters, also perfectly exemplifies the failure of the artist to realize his own outdate method and style in the face of the new wave of British portrait painters.

In his most famous and revered work, 'An Instance of the Fingerpost', Pears narrated the story from the viewpoints of four individual characters. However, in 'The Portrait' he presents us with an internal introspective monologue that, although it never roars, yet succeeds in its sublimated intensity. It's a story that grows with time, and even though I knew the outcome this time around it was perhaps even more fulfilling than the first time I read it.

I will not make the unforgivable error of disclosing the ending, but leave you with knowledge that 'The Portrait' is a marvelously written and intelligent mystery that fully deserves your time and commitment. It's a truly magnificent piece of writing and Pears prose is as great as it can be.

Four and half stars.

[Nickolas B. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ο καλλιτέχνης και ο τεχνοκριτικός!
Μέσα από τις σελίδες αυτού του βιβλίου γνωρίζουμε τον Χένρι Μακ Αλπάιν μέσα από ένα χειμαρρώδη ουσιαστικά μονόλογο. Έναν ταλαντούχο ζωγράφο ο οποίος στο απόγειο της καριέρας του αποφάσισε να απομονωθεί σε ένα νησάκι της Βρετάνης κάπου στις αρχές του 20ου αιώνα. Εκεί μόνος πλέον, σε ένα αφιλόξενο περιβάλλον με περίεργους κατοίκους ο Χένρι θα ανακαλύψει τον πραγματικό "καλλιτεχνικό" του εαυτό και παράλληλα θα εμβαθύνει στην ουσία της τέχνης όπως πότε άλλοτε δεν είχε καταφέρει να κάνει...

Όμως υπάρχει μια εκκρεμότητα ακόμα για τον ζωγράφο! Να φιλοτεχνήσει το πορτρέτο του παλιού του φίλου και διακεκριμένου κριτικού τέχνης Ουίλιαμ Νάισμυθ. Εκεί στο μικρό και απομακρυσμένο νησάκι ο Χένρι βάζοντας απέναντι του - μεταφορικά και κυριολεκτικά - τον Νάισμυθ θα ετοιμαστεί για το magnum opus της καλλιτεχνικής του καριέρας.
Όσο λοιπόν προχωράει το πορτρέτο του κριτικού μαθαίνουμε από τον Χένρι όλη την ιστορία πίσω από την απομόνωση του αλλά και όλη την ιστορία που συνδέει τους δύο ανθρώπους. Ο ζωγράφος οδηγεί σιγά σιγά τον τεχνοκριτικό στην κόλαση όμως ο δρόμος είναι μακρύς και η πορεία βασανιστική...

Ο Ίαν Πήαρς φτιάχνοντας μια σκοτεινή ιστορία εκδίκησης μας μιλάει για την σχέση δημιουργού - κριτή. Για τις αποστάσεις που υπάρχουν ανάμεσα σε μια δημιουργία και σε ένα σχόλιο αλλά και στην τόσο αλληλεξαρτημένης σχέση τους. Επίσης οι προβληματισμοί που δημιουργούνται και κατακλύζουν είναι έντονοι. Ποια είναι η αληθινή τέχνη; Ποια η καλή και θεόπνευστη; Μπορεί ένας κριτής να είναι αντικειμενικός και αν ναι, σε ποιο βαθμό;
Εν κατακλείδι, ο ο Χένρι Μακ Αλπάιν είναι μια βασανισμένη ψυχή και μέσα από τον σπαρακτικό μονόλογο του αξίζει να το γνωρίσουμε αλλά και να μάθουμε τα πιο ενδόμυχα μυστικά του...
5/5!

[Nancy Oakes · Rating 4 out of 5]

My advice to prospective readers: don't stop reading this book until the end. You may begin reading it, say "huh?" and want to put it down. But don't. The whole thing unravels the further you go and it is worth the wait.

The entire book is structured as a monologue on the part of the narrator, Henry MacAlpine. MacAlpine is a very much sought-after artist in early 1900s London; his work is mostly portraiture, well, at least the work that provides his living. His subject, visiting MacAlpine in his current home on a small island off the Brittany coast of France, is one William Naysmith, a highly-influential art critic who used to be one of MacAlpine's best friends. MacAlpine is now in a state of self-exile on this small island, but the reader does not find out why until the end. He has summoned Naysmith to his island to paint his portrait, and it is during the course of the sitting that the monologue occurs. As the sitting and the monologue go on, the readers learns about the history of these two individuals from MacAlpine's beginning as an artist through his self-imposed exile.

Trust me on this one. The book is extremely well written, and don't read it with getting to the end in mind. Enjoy the ride there...that's the crux of this book and it makes for a very unique reading experience. Recommended.

[Roman Clodia · Rating 2 out of 5]

This isn't a collaboration. I paint; you sit. When you are in that chair, you are stripped of your expertise, of your taste and discernment. Your opinion is of no more value to me than that of the old peasant I sketched last month. You are defenceless until I have finished.

Hmm, this feels more like an exercise in narrative control than anything else and there's certainly none of the suspense promoted in the blurb: this is so weighed down with foreshadowing and earlier precedents (My Last Duchess by Browning, some tales by Poe) that it's clear almost from the start what must inevitably happen. Given that certainty, the story becomes too drawn out and might have been better as a long short story rather than a novella (173 pages in my edition, could have been wrapped up in half the length).

The 'thing' is that it's completely a monologue addressed by the artist, over a number of sittings, to the critic who was once his mentor and best friend back in turn of the century London bohemian circles. This stylised mode of telling where the critic never says a word, never speaks back to the accusations made against him, thus raises interesting questions: is he really there or is the whole encounter a fantasy of the painter who is thus hovering on the edge of madness? Just as he's hovering on the edge of that cliff at the end?.

This is really a study of character: the 'portrait' of the title is also a portrait in words of two men, and, to a lesser extent, of two women whose lives cross their own, and of a moment in artistic history which seems drawn on the Pre-Raphaelites, the critic a figure presumably inspired by Ruskin. There's melodrama in bucket loads and the artist reveals more of himself than he might intend the long section of invective against queer women, for example.

So as a narrative exercise in writing perspective this works rather well - if only it has been shorter. But given how little surprise or emotion there is and how deeply unpleasant both men are, it dragged rather a lot for me: 2.5 stars.

[Connie G · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The painter without the critic is nothing. The good critic can make the mediocre famous, the great obscure. His power is limitless; the artist is his servant, and one day will recognize the fact." (107)

An important British art critic has traveled to the isolated Breton island of Houat to have his portrait painted by an acquaintance that he once mentored. In an interior monologue the artist looks back at the times they shared in London and Paris in the early 20th Century. The art critic has destroyed lives while remaining unscathed himself. The artist wants to show the true character of the man on the canvas. The novel is a psychological study of the two men, and how far one will go in revenge. Chilling!

[Susan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a short novel, written mainly as a monologue. Set on a small island off the coast of Brittany, in the early 1900’s, this features artist Henry MacAlpine who is visited by critic, William Nasmyth. The two men have not met for four years, but now MacAlpine is going to paint his portrait.

While MacAlpine paints, he talks and it is this monologue which makes up the novel. We learn why McAlpine – a promising artist – fled London for this isolated island. We learn of the background between him and Nasmyth and why MacAlpine invited him after so long.

Although this is a dark tale, it is limited by the fact that the reader is aware there must be a pretty uncomfortable reason for MacAlpine having left London when he was on the cusp of such success. Somehow, for me, this lacked any real drama. There was melodrama, but I failed to really feel empathy for any of the characters mentioned, and found the storyline dull. Not one I would recommend.

[Elizabeth (Alaska) · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is written as a first person dialogue directed at one person. This might be off-putting to some. At first I wasn't comfortable reading it. I wanted some straight narrative or to read a response from the other person. I'm not positive I actually squirmed, but I'm sure I felt like it. Still, I never had any intention of setting it aside. I have read other novels where the beginning - and even mid section - were slow. In those as in this, I came to recognize the very good foundation laid in those early pages.

The two men are Henry Morris MacAlpine, a painter, and William Nasmyth, an art critic. Henry is on a small French island off the Breton coast having left the London art scene several years earlier when he was friends with William. William has joined him there to have his portrait painted. The time of their meeting is 1913, but the story really takes place in the years leading up to this meeting.

Iain Pears is an art historian. Jonathan Argyll of the series is an art dealer turned detective. It appears his standalone novels, like this one, are good historical mysteries all involving art in some way or another. But they are not mysteries in the traditional sense. In this, I could only listen to Henry tell his story and wonder: why did he leave London?; why did William come to such a remote place to have his portrait painted? The story builds while I wondered. The writing is above average. The characterizations are quite good - and don't expect just the two male characters!

This is short at just over 200 pages. I think I would not have been able to tolerate being uncomfortable listening to Henry ramble on for more than that. It was exactly what Pears needed to get his story told - and told brilliantly. I'm rambling myself here, trying to decide whether this is worth 5-stars. I so want it to be, but I'm afraid it just doesn't quite make the leap over that line.

[Dani · Rating 4 out of 5]

Shame on me.
I bought this book long (looooong) ago but tucked it away on one of my faraway shelves without ever reading it due to the fact that I once tried another book by this author but ultimately had to give up because I found it completely unreadable and thus incomprehensible at the time. Consequently, it had me convinced that either his writing style wasn't my cup of tea or that my pea brain just wasn't able to translate his clever writing into plain English but whatever the reason, I never was in a hurry to try again.
However, recently, I made a deal with myself to finally work my way through all those books on forgotten shelves that I never read and so, Iain Pears and I met once again. And it pleases me to no end to say that time around, I enjoyed his company so (SO) much!

I won't go into what the story is about because I truly think that the less you know about the plot going in, the better your enjoyment of it will be. Just let the story come to you as it unfolds leisurely, completely in its own time. And don't quit before the end, because the ending is what tilts this story from good to great.

4.75 stars

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

Η ενδιαφέρουσα αυτή ιστορία είναι βασισμένη στη θυμόσοφη ρήση του λαού "η εκδίκηση είναι ένα πιάτο που τρώγεται κρύο".
Μέσα από το μονόλογο του ήρωα - ζωγράφου σχηματοποιούμε τα γεγονότα και παρακολουθούμε το θάνατο μιας σχέσης.
Η θεατρική σκηνή έχει μόνο 2 πρωταγωνιστές.
Ο ζωγράφος και το μοντέλο του. Δεν υπάρχει διάλογος, ο διάλογος συνάγεται από τον μονόλογο του ζωγράφου.
Ο ζωγράφος τελεί σε μια εκούσια απομόνωση και απόσυρση σε ένα δυσπρόσιτο νησί στα παράλια της Βρετάνης, στην αιχμή μιας πολλά υποσχόμενης καριέρας.
Το μοντέλο του πορτραίτου είναι πρώην φίλος και μέντορας του ζωγράφου, διάσημος τεχνοκριτικός, πλούσιος και επιτυχημένος που εξακολουθεί να ζει στο Λονδίνο.
Αρχικά καταλαβαίνουμε ότι ο τεχνοκριτικός πηγαίνει να βρει το ζωγράφο, με σκοπό να του φτιάξει το πορτραίτο, να μάθει τις λεπτομέρειες που τον ώθησαν να εγκαταλείψει την καριέρα του και ενδεχομένως να τον μεταπείσει να επιστρέψει. Σταδιακά, ο αναγνώστης θα καταλάβει ότι πρόκειται για την κορυφή του παγόβουνου. Δεν είναι καθόλου έτσι τα πράγματα. Καθώς το πορτραίτο προχωρά, η μειλίχια και παραιτημένη μορφή του ζωγράφου μεταλλάσσεται, για να εξελιχθεί προς στο τέλος σε έναν αμείλικτο κατήγορο και εκδικητή.
Βήμα βήμα ο συγγραφέας μας κάνει κοινωνούς ισχυρών συναισθημάτων, όπως είναι ο χωρίς ανταπόκριση έρωτας, η απόρριψη, η απογοήτευση, το πάθος, ο φθόνος, η συμπόνοια, ο εγωισμός, ο θαυμασμός και τέλος η απομυθοποίηση. Ίσως το πιο οδυνηρό όλων είναι η απομυθοποίηση (εδώ του μέντορα) και το επερχόμενο μίσος. Σε κάποιο σημείο ο ζωγράφος βρίσκει την τόλμη να ξεστομίσει στο πρόσωπο του μοντέλου του "ο κριτικός είναι σε σχέση με το ζωγράφο ό,τι είναι ο ευνούχος σε σχέση με τον άντρα". Του πήρε μερικά χρόνια και έπρεπε να μεσολαβήσουν τραυματικά γεγονότα για να καταλάβει μερικά πράγματα.
Θαυμάσιο βιβλίο αλλά και δύσκολο να το ακολουθήσει ένας βιαστικός και ανυπόμονος αναγνώστης.
Προσεγμένη και όμορφη η έκδοση της Άγρας, όπως πάντα. Εύστοχο εξώφυλλο.
Πολύ καλή επιμέλεια και μετάφραση.

[Tony · Rating 2 out of 5]

I frequently encounter two types of spoiler. The first being those clearly identified in advance and the second which thrusts the whole deal up your nose without warning.

I hate the first because I am unable to read the review in advance. I hate the second more however, and this book suffered a great deal because of this one. I stupidly read the review in The Guardian just after I had embarked on it. I had immediately guessed half out the final outcome but this really ruined it.

I wanted to abandon it after the first chapter but persevered even though I knew the end and had guessed the other two or three sub-tales. But I continued. I have no real idea why. This is a monologue and a monologue which would be impossible; no one would sit without attempting to respond to the revelations/accusations.

Maybe it would work as a short story, but much of this bored me, particularly as I had already unpicked it.

EDIT: Oh by the way... I do appreciate the irony here! :o)

[Erik · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is a moment in Iain Pears "The Portrait" when you realize what is going to happen. In the hands of a lesser writer, this would have ruined the rest of the novel. But in Pears hands, it doesn't matter. You know what is going to happen, and the two characters know what is going to happen. Yet none of us can look away. "The Portrait" is a monologue. An artist is painting the portrait of a critic who is an old friend. The entire novel is the one sided conversation as the painting progresses, told from the mind of the artist. He lays bare, over the course of those conversations, their entire friendship. He also exposes both the critic's and the artist's own failings and demons. As I said, all of us know what is eventually going to happen. Yet Pears' prose is such that we hurtle towards the conclusion, engrossed, waiting anxiously to see what finally occurs, like a voyeuristic ghost. Unable to change the outcome, yet silently inside not wanting to. This was my first exposure to Iain Pears, but it won't be my last.

[Tony · Rating 1 out of 5]

Imagine The Cask of Amontillado but told in the narrative voice of a painter through a number of sittings with an art critic. We know this will not end well for the critic, but in what manner will the demise come and what is the cause of revenge? Brilliant idea. But Pears, the author of not one but two previous masterpieces, is in this instance, sadly, no Poe.

[Mike · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a beautiful little masterpiece of a book. It might well have been titled, "The Menacing Foreshadowy Book of Foreshadowing", because right from the beginning (in fact, right from reading the cover flaps), you know that something bad is going to happen . . . and the badness is deliciously telegraphed in a thousand ways over the course of the book.

It is a monologue, the words of an artist as he paints a portrait of his subject, an art critic whom he has known for years. As he creates his portrait in oil, his words create a verbal portrait of the man, as well as portraits of several other characters from their shared history, and a self-portrait of the artist himself.

By the end of the book, the artist's motivations and intentions become clear. What kept this book from being truly great, I think, is that by the end of the book the artist has convinced us of the justice of his crime. Instead of revealing a monstrous, horrible fate for an innocent man, Pears essentially shows us a fate which is more or less deserved, if perhaps not richly. His protagonist is self-effacing, not grandiose.

Like the others of Pears' "serious" books, this one is incredibly well written. It is a joy to read just for the prose, even if the struggles within the art world and artists do come across as a bit fey and silly.

[Greg · Rating 3 out of 5]

I approached this with caution as Pears' "An Instance of the Fingerpost" was a daunting read for me. However, I was pleasantly surprised with this simple, straightforward story: in a secluded location a gentleman is visited by an old friend and the two of them reminisce and resolve a previous conflict. No, wait, that was Sandor Maria's stunning masterpiece, "Embers", which was first published in Hungary in 1942 and was rediscovered and translated for English readers in 2001. But "The Portrait" takes place on an island while "Embers" takes place in the mountains. Yes, that's it: island vs. mountain. (Chaucer likely utilized Boccaccio's 14th century "The Decameron", Shakespeare certainly was inspired by stories of others. The plot of "Lolita" closely followed Patricia Highsmith's "The Price of Salt"...who was it that said there is nothing new under the sun?) Anyway, I'll wrap it up by saying I enjoyed "The Portrait" on its own merit: a suspense story without a word wasted. And I think I'll have another by Pears. And if you too liked this, you must read "Embers"!

[Althea Ann · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is really a fantastic book.
It's short, and entirely in the form of a first-person monologue. An artist, retired from London's busy art scene to a remote and rural island, has invited a former friend, a well-respected critic, to come sit for a portrait. As the work progresses, the artist recounts the tale of how the critic became his mentor in the art world... at first, on the surface, it may seem a rather banal tale, if one that offers interesting insights into the scene in England at the beginning of the 20th century... but as the narrative progresses, progressively more undertones of darkness and menace appear, and the reader begins to suspect there is more to this story than the reunion of two old friends... and the denouement makes it all more than worthwhile.
Most impressive in this, is Pears' ability to create characterizations and insights that far exceed the limited vision and self-centered attitude of his narrator, all through that narrator's words.

[Molly Mckitterick]

A monologue that doesn’t drone on – too much

We just read THE PORTRAIT (2005) by Iain Pears for the book club. Not to keep you in suspense, the book club loved it which is interesting because THE PORTRAIT is 211 paperback pages of a guy talking while he paints the portrait of another man. The sitter never speaks and the portraitist, Henry MacAlpine, creates a tightly constructed picture of this man, his nemesis, in words even as he does in paint. As the reviewer for the Washington Post wrote, MacAlpine “seems like a man who has been talking to himself for years and now is talking to himself in front of someone.” We might add that MacAlpine seems to have been talking about the same things for years, perfecting the monologue that is this book.
What is interesting about this style is it creates problems for the reader who can only participate in the book in a second-hand way. There is no interaction between characters, no conversation, no opinions other than MacAlpine’s through which the entire book is filtered. This is a book that breaks that cardinal rule of writing: show, don’t tell. THE PORTRAIT does nothing but tell, and the guy doing the telling is not a nice fellow. For example, he started out his career by stealing all his mother’s retirement savings. His voice is full of smarmy, self-satisfaction.
The style does not work for everyone. Reader reviews from Amazon warn of its potential to “become tedious” and scream that it is “dull, dull, dull.” That other readers, including the book club, liked the book says a lot for Pears’ skill, both as a writer and an art historian. He does manage to build suspense in terms of the plot which unfolds in a masterly way and holds some surprises, although the ending seems a foregone conclusion. To us, the real interest of the book is the creepy character of MacAlpine himself. Is he reliable? What makes him tick? Why did he lure the sitter to the barren island where he now lives? Note the ambiguity in the following quote, the hidden conversation MacAlpine is having with himself:
“It was I who summoned you. I who knew you would come, would have to come see me. I lured you here. I needed to see if you would come.”

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the third Iain Pear's novel I've read and while it may not be on a par with An Instance of the Fingerpost or as clever as Stone's Fall, it certainly fits into the Pear's oeuvre. I don't have a lot to say about the novel that cannot be found in the other reviews. I think one's reaction to the book has to do with the response to its dramatic monologue structure: the entire book consists of the protagonist's one-sided discussion with the person whose portrait he is painting. Some found it boring. On the other hand, I found the way the protagonist describes how their relationship evolved over the years to be captivating. It kept my interest during the early stages as well as the end.

Like other Pears novels, this too is a historical mystery which is neatly wrapped up in the last few pages. However, during the course, other smaller mysteries are revealed, all of which lead up to the final mystery about why the artist attracted the art critic and friend to this remote island off the coast of Brittany.

As an aside, I also enjoyed Pears discussion of late 19th and early 20th century art scene in France and England. I don't know much about art but the protagonist's discussion of character portrayal in painting and the role of the art critic were in their own ways quite "revealing".

[Mathew · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an extremely short book, but Pears twists its few pages into a gripping narrative. The story is told through a one-sided conversation. A man has come to have his portrait painted by an old friend. The entire story is the monologue of the painter recounting their history. You'll feel the wind howling through the twist at the end.

[Stephen · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was very reminiscent of Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado". The "twist" at the end was not very surprising and you knew what was going to happen long before. This is not bad, but the narrator's monologue was monotonous, to say the least, and didn't live up to the final reveal. I generally like Iain Pears' writing, but this novel left a lot to be desired.

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ah, I can't say anything really without giving away the plot.
I can say, the book is gripping, creepy, thrilling, and just the right length. Read it in one sitting.

[Jamie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really an interesting, engaging read. It’s told entirely from the perspective of the Portraitist talking to the Art Critic while he is painting his portrait. The entire book is a soliloquy/monologue, and it’s fascinating…. The story unfolds, slowly at first, but eventually reaches a climax where there is no going back, and the book rushes to a close. I highly recommend.

[Carolyn Rose · Rating 3 out of 5]

How can I describe this - Edgar Allen Poe joins My Dinner with Andre? Maybe. It's atmospheric and I knew where it was going from the start, but some passages were too long for my attention span and I found myself flipping pages.

[Lacey · Rating 2 out of 5]

I listened to the Audio CD version of this book. Pretty blah for me. The entire book was internal monologue ramblings.

[uk · Rating 4 out of 5]

a truly fine study in beauty, art, aesthetics, corruption, and death. really recommended.

[gergana · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found this book by pure chance when I was looking for something Peter Capaldi has read on Storytel. My rating is based as much on his interpretation, as on the material itself. He truly makes the character of Henry MacAlpine go alive. I enjoyed his voice and the emotions he poured out immensely

[Spectre · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very interesting first person story of calculated revenge... Worthwhile investment of time as this is a very unique approach to storytelling- stick with it and you'll be pleased.

[Helen · Rating 3 out of 5]

A narrative by one voice that became a little wordy and predictable.

[Elena · Rating 4 out of 5]

Iain Pears blew my mind with his An Instance of the Fingerpost, and now I have decided to read everything he's ever written. The Portrait was a good place to start. While it definitely wasn't as good as An Instance of the Fingerpost, I still enjoyed it very much.

It must be said that this book might not be for everyone: it is a long monologue of one character, Henry MacAlpine, an artist who has retired from the world for unknown reasons and is visited by his old friend William Nasmyth, an art critic, who wants him to paint him. While painting, Henry talks about the present and the past, often jumping from one moment to another, then going back and so on, so it's not always easy keeping track of everything. However, the narration worked for me. I found the story interesting, and the representation of artists, the artistic scene of the period and especially the relationship between art and critic very intriguing.

As for the characters, they are few and quite unlikeable, so that's another reason this book might not be for everyone. Personally, I found Henry's and William's characterization very compelling, complex and thought-provoking, even if they were both, definitely, quite awful individuals. Evelyn, another artist, was probably my favourite character of the book, even if I didn't much appreciate her representation towards the end of the book. Who cares if she had a woman lover and if she enjoyed painting sex scenes?? However, she was always portrayed through the eyes of Henry, which was definitely not an objective point of view.

Towards the end there were also several twists which I didn't see coming, even if maybe I should have. The ending itself, instead, was hardly surprising, but it was still very satisfying.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

A few months ago I read and adored Pears's big fat science-historical mystery-type novel An Instance of the Fingerpost and adored it so much I went out and bought a better copy than the somewhat battered one I had so that Pam could read the book the way it ought to be read -- and, now I face it, so that I could have a nicer copy if ever I re-read the book myself, which is not beyond the bounds of possibility. Whatever, when I spotted The Portrait in the library the other day, there was no question but that it go home with me.

It's a very much slighter book in every sense of the word -- indeed, it's more like a very, very long novella than a novel, all narrated as he paints by early-20th-century portraitist Henry MacAlpine to his subject, critic and heartless bastard William Nasmyth. Slowly, as the past history of the two men -- and more importantly of the undervalued (because female) painter Evelyn -- unfolds, we discover why MacAlpine has lured Nasmyth to this remote island off Brittany for the portrait, and what he hopes to achieve with that portrait.

I'm not sure Pears quite pulls off the endeavour. At the end of the book I felt thoroughly satisfied by the last fifty pages I'd read, but the buildup to those last fifty pages had far too often seemed to drag. Had this been published as an ordinary-length novella -- say, 25-35,000 words -- rather than an (at a guess) 55,000-word shortish novel, I think it would have been artistically more successful. As it was, I had the sensation I was looking at one of a master's interesting but decidedly lesser paintings.

[Nigel Kotani · Rating 4 out of 5]

Iain Pears may not be the best writer around, but he's certainly one of the most original and thought-provoking. This book (though it's more of a novella, really) is the fourth of his that I've read, and all four have been completely different from each other and quite unlike anything else I've ever read. He's a truly experimental writer who, far from ever becoming contrived, pretentious or even experimental just for the sake of being experimental, has managed to carry it off in every book of his that I've read.

This book is a monologue by a painter to his model as he paints him over the course of several days. This is not first person narrative or internal dialogue, it is simply a spoken monologue from a painter to his silent model. And that's all it is. From beginning to end, there are literally no other elements to the book. It works though, being absorbing, entertaining and educational (about the art world), and telling an intriguing story in a clever and novel way. For fear of giving away spoilers I will say no more than that other than to add that, taking maybe four hours to read, it doesn't require much investment in time and offers a high reward to effort ratio. Recommended.