Self-Portrait with Boy

by Rachel Lyon

Longlisted for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize, a "rich and thorny page turner" (Los Angeles Times) literary psychological horror about an ambitious young artist whose accidental photograph of a tragedy could jumpstart her career, but devastate her most intimate friendship.

Lu Rile is a relentlessly focused young photographer struggling to make ends meet. Working three jobs, responsible for her aging father, and worrying that her crumbling loft apartment is being sold to developers, she is at a point of desperation. One day, in the background of a self-portrait, Lu accidentally captures an image of a boy falling to his death. The photograph turns out to be startlingly gorgeous, the best work of art she’s ever made. It’s an image that could change her life… if she lets it.

But the decision to show the photograph is not easy. The boy is her neighbors’ son, and the tragedy brings all the building’s residents together. It especially unites Lu with the boy’s beautiful grieving mother, Kate. As the two forge an intense bond based on sympathy, loneliness, and budding attraction, Lu feels increasingly unsettled and guilty, torn between equally fierce desires: to advance her career, and to protect a woman she has come to love.

Set in early 90s Brooklyn on the brink of gentrification, Self-Portrait with Boy is a “sparkling debut” (The New York Times Book Review) about the emotional dues that must be paid on the road to success and a powerful exploration of the complex terrain of friendship. “The conflict is rich and thorny, raising questions about art and morality, love and betrayal, sacrifice and opportunism, and the chance moments that can define a life… It wrestles with the nature of art, but moves with the speed of a page-turner” (Los Angeles Times).

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Contemporary, Art, Adult, Audiobook, LGBT

401 pages, Kindle Edition

First published February 6, 2018

About the author

Rachel Lyon is the author of SELF PORTRAIT WITH BOY, a finalist for the Center for Fiction's 2018 First Novel Prize, and FRUIT OF THE DEAD, an Oprah Magazine best book of 2024 which the NY Times called “superb” and “refreshing.” Rachel’s short stories have appeared in One Story, The Rumpus, Electric Literature, and other publications; she has taught creative writing most recently at Bennington College and the American University of Paris, where she was the 2024 Paris Writer in Residence. Originally from Brooklyn, NY, she lives with her family in Western Massachusetts.

Reviews

[Fran · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lu Rile, a dirt poor twenty-six year old photographer, lived in an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn, New York. The landlord allowed artists to squat in his cheap, ill-repaired lofts. Gentrification would eventually force apartment dwellers to accept buy-outs. Barren streets with crumbling sidewalks and unheated living space would be replaced by exclusive residences. For now though, Lu lived in a fourth floor loft. She worked part-time in Summerland, an upscale health food store in Brooklyn Heights. The wealthy clientele treated her like a non-existent entity. Her subsistence diet consisted of food she pocketed from Summerland.

Lu, a struggling photographer, needed a platform for change. She embarked upon a photographic exercise in the study of technique; shadows and depth perception. Every day, she staged her self portrait then critiqued the photo. Self-Portrait #400 was unique. Against the backdrop of the loft's large pane window, a nude Lu leaped up in the air from the right while a blur from the left descended, followed by screams and sirens. An accidental masterpiece. A falling boy (Max Schubert-Fine falling to his death) while Lu leaped in the air. A perfect photo of flying and falling. The photo could be transformative. It could be a career starter, a way to reach a wider audience. A moral dilemma ensued, a question of right or wrong.

Upon the death of nine year old Max, neighbors from the apartments came together and developed close friendships while insulating and protecting grieving mother Kate Fine. Lu Rile, lonely and friendless, became a close confident, a new experience for Lu. Although haunted by images of Max, Lu was propelled forward but wanted to get Kate's blessing and permission to show the photo. How could she even think of approaching Kate?

"Self-Portrait with Boy: A Novel" by Rachel Lyon is a study in morality. The emotional toll, the guilt and stress created by the accidental photo of Max's demise and Lu's potential rise cannot be understated. Ms. Lyon has created a powerful commentary on a photographer's quest for recognition and success.

Thank you Scribner and Net Galley for the opportunity to read and review "Self-Portrait with Boy: A Novel".

[Jennifer ~ TarHeelReader · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 original and artsy stars to Self-Portrait with Boy! ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

I requested this book thanks to my GR friend, Fran. Thank you, Fran! Rachel Lyon has a unique voice and style, and this book’s premise was completely original. Lu was a photographer working three jobs to make ends meet. She lived in a rat-infested apartment in Brooklyn in the late 1980s. Her project at the time of the book’s opening was taking a self-portrait every day. It turned out that one of her photos had the image of her neighbors’ child falling to his death, which was captured in a supposedly beautiful way. What will Lu do? Launch her career with this gorgeously captivating photo? Or risk losing new relationships she’s formed as a result?

There were two small flaws for me - one was the dialogue style. Without the use of quotation marks and names to denote who was speaking, it was sometimes hard to follow, and the flow wasn’t always there. Second, there was an incident where animals were harmed...Some view these particular animals as a nuisance (rats), but I don’t know how that added to the story? And I really wish I could unsee the visual I got from that horrific scene.

Overall, this book was engaging and well-written. I especially loved the art/photography angle. I will definitely be looking for what Rachel Lyon writes next!

Happy Publication Week to Self-Portrait with Boy!

Thank you to Rachel Lyon, Scribner, and Netgalley for the complimentary copy.

[Rachel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was blown away by this book.

Self-Portrait with Boy is a ruthless examination of the cost of success for a young hopeful photographer. Lu Rile is in her late 20s, squatting in an Artists in Residence abandoned-warehouse-turned-apartment in Brooklyn which is so run down it should be condemned, working three jobs and trying to break into the competitive arts scene. When she accidentally captures in a self-portrait the image of a young boy falling to his death, the photograph turns out to be stunning, and Lu is forced to decide if she should destroy the print out of respect for the grieving family who she ends up befriending, or if she should use it to launch her career. (There's also a supernatural element to the story, as Lu believes she is being haunted by the ghost of the boy who died - though whether this element is literal or a manifestation of Lu's internal turmoil, I think Rachel Lyon leaves that for us to decide.)

Lu is one of the best anti-heroines I think I've ever read. She's fueled by an almost ruthless ambition, but so vulnerable that I found myself sympathizing with and rooting for her, even though she never asks you to. She's not a warm narrator and she doesn't ask for pity, but she's all the more honest and compelling for that fact. When she looks at her photograph she's forced to confront the very nature of art itself and the role of the artist - is it her responsibility to spare the feelings of this boy's family, or does she have a stronger duty to her career and the truth behind her art?

I'm actually very familiar with the Brooklyn neighborhoods - Dumbo and Brooklyn Heights - that provided this story with its setting, so that was definitely part of the appeal for me. It was fascinating to step back in time and look at Dumbo not as I know it now, but on the brink of gentrification in the early 90s. But even if you've never been to Dumbo, I think it's still possible to be impressed by just how immersive this novel is. It's such a brilliant and insular look at the New York art scene in the 90s; fans of twentieth century American art in particular I think will be entranced by this story.

There's really only one element of this novel that didn't work for me - the omission of quotation marks in dialogue. I can only assume that since Lu is recounting this story 20 years later, the desired effect is to imply that it's Lu's remembrance of characters' dialogue, rather than verbatim quotes? But I'm still not sure that it was necessary - it seems like a rather arbitrary stylistic choice. It didn't bother me enough to detract from my 5 star rating, but I think it's going to be a big deterrent for some people.

But like I said, all things considered, I was blown away. I don't think I appreciated just how hard-hitting this book was until I read the final sentence and nearly burst into tears. This whole novel was beautiful and unsettling and unique, and I cannot recommend it highly enough. I'll look forward to anything Rachel Lyon writes in the future - she's a huge talent to look out for.

Thank you to Scribner and Rachel Lyon for the advanced copy provided in exchange for an honest review.

[luce (cry bebè's back from hiatus) · Rating 5 out of 5]

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“Tragedy is insignificant, banal. A falling boy goes largely unnoticed.”

Self-Portrait with Boy is an electrifying debut novel. Within its pages, Rachel Lyon’s paints an unsettling portrait, that of the artist as a young woman, one whose raw hunger for artistic recognition drives her to betray the trust of the person she loves. Self-Portrait with Boy presents us with a thought-provoking and razor-sharp interrogation of ambition, morality, love, and the fraught boundary between art and life.

“It was unexpected. It was raw. It was startling. It was awful. It was beautiful. It was factual. Heartbreaking. Cruel. Fresh. Real.”

Throughout the course of her narrative, Lyon explores the aftermath of a devastating loss, on both those who are directly and indirectly affected by this tragedy. With striking precision and realism, Lyon articulates the loneliness, despair, guilt, and longing experienced by her central character, Lu Rile. This is not a happy tale. Far from it. Some readers will find Lu's actions to be unforgivable, abhorrent even. And those who find themselves feeling more sympathetic towards her will still read her story with great unease, dreading 'that moment'. From the start, we know what Lu chooses to do, but even so, to actually witness the consequences of her actions..well, it isn’t easy. Many of the interactions that occur in this novel are underlined by a sense of disquiet, one that reminded me vaguely of the work of Ottessa Moshfegh. The imagery within this novel also brought to mind Moshfegh, in that some of Lyon's scenes and descriptions verged on the grotesque.

“I never meant for any of it to happen. Or no. Part of me meant for part of it to happen. I was nothing but a kid then. Twenty-six, naive, and ambitious as hell. A skinny friendless woman in thick glasses with a mop of coarse black hair. There were so many people I had not yet become.”

Lyon evokes in vivid detail 1990s New York, the art circles Lu aspires to be in, the building she lives in, and the places she works at. In addition to a brilliant evocation of place and time and searing commentary on ambition and success, Self-Portrait with Boy boasts the kind of unrelenting pacing that usually characterises thrillers. Lu’s riveting storyline is further enhanced by Lyon’s crisp and lucid prose, which conveys with crystal clarity Lu’s everyday realities as well as her innermost desires and fears.

“I’ll tell you how it started. With a simple, tragic accident.”

Lu, our narrator, now an established photographer, looks back to her ‘lucky break’, the photo that made her (in)famous in the art world. The remainder of the narrative takes place in the early 90s New York when Lu was 26, perennially short on money, and juggling her photography with her three minimum wage jobs. In addition to her photography & money-related anxieties, Lu is worried about her ageing father’s deteriorating eyesight. She lives in a converted warehouse in DUMBO, and rumour has it that developers have their sights set on her neighbourhood.

“And then, somewhere among all those larger, major memories, there was this minor but foul little one: the feeling of being in my twenties at a party and looking out at some horribly attractive crowd. The feeling of them glancing at me with barely registered pity: Oh, that thing in the corner. Isn’t that funny. It thinks it’s people.”

Lu is a lonely socially awkward person. She was raised by her father after her mother took off without a word when she was still little and has no actual friends. Despite her social anxiety and her many insecurities, Lu fully believes in her artistic capabilities. She can be ruthlessly single-minded in her pursuit of fame. She's isn't content 'just' making art, she wants to be successful. Over the last few years, Lu worked on a project that consists of her taking a self-portrait each day, but so far, she doesn’t seem particularly impressed with the results.

“There is nothing more pathetic than being the only person who believes in you.”

One day however her daily self-portrait (titled #400) reveals to have captured a boy falling to his own death. The boy in question was the son of the couple living in the apartment above her. As the people around her mourn his death, Lu is torn between using #400 to make a name for herself and her growing feelings towards the boy’s mother, Kate. The consequences of not only showcasing but making a profit out of this tragedy are not inconsequential.

“Her grief was so much bigger than one meager photograph. That was just art. This was death and life. I felt foolish and thickheaded—and so, so ugly.”

Yet, while Lu knows that she should seek the boy’s parents' consent before circulating #400, she’s fearful of their reaction. Lu believes that #400 is her masterpiece and she’s determined to share it with the world. Once she befriends Kate Lu’s ambitions collide with her desires: she strives for her ‘shocking' photo to be recognised but she also desperately yearns not to be alone anymore. And grieving, beautiful, Kate seems to care for her...doesn't she?

“At the time she was my only friend. She was so dear to me.”

Lu's story contains plenty of conflicts: art, morality, love, ambition, selfishness. Lu scrutinises her own actions, the moral dilemma in regards to the photo as well as the everyday little decisions that she makes along the way. There is also her father's failing sight, her steadily worsening living conditions, her various jobs, her tentative relationships with her neighbours and, of course, her bond with Kate. All of this is set against a vibrantly depicted backdrop, one that buzzes with vitality: from the hubbub of the condominium meetings Lu attends to the bustling energy of the street she walks on.
Lyon doesn't shy away from including the more disturbing aspect of Lu's life. There is a particularly graphic scene including a rat nest...which was pretty intense (and possibly traumatising). So, be warned.

Nevertheless, I found myself unable to tear myself away. With startling realism, Lyon portrays Lu’s daily experiences, the conversations or arguments that she has with other people, as well as her inner monologue. Lyon's narrator is a real tour de force: she is capable of being horrible, and of rationalising her own selfishness in the name of ‘art’. Yet, we see just how bloody lonely and alone Lu is. She longs for intimacy and connection but in those instances where she could try to get close to someone else, she retreats inwards, afraid or unwilling to expose herself to others. She has plenty of opportunities to talk to Kate about #400 but doesn't. Her determination to succeed is simultaneously monstrous and so very human. We see just how dismissive other people within the art sphere are towards ‘no names’ like her. In spite of the uncertainties she has when it comes to forming meaningful relationships when it comes to her photographs, Lu knows her self-worth. Her observations reflect her artistic inclinations: she seems to view the world through a camera lens, she notices the lighting, pays attention to the objects populating her surroundings.

There is also a surprising almost supernatural element woven into Lu's otherwise realistic story. It worked well since Lyon includes it without overemphasizing it. In fact, one could easily argue that the haunting that occurs within these pages is not a ‘true’ haunting...and maybe that makes it all the more eerie.

“The thing about remembering is that each time you retrieve an event from the past it alters the memory itself. If to tell a story is to repaint the past, to remember is to crumple; to fold, unfold, refold, and inevitably rip. If to tell a story is to renovate, to remember is to destroy.”

Self-Portrait with Boy paints a troubling portrait of a female artist struggling to make it in the art world. It is also a story of a young woman's day to day life in 90s New York: there are plenty of odd, occasionally amusing, encounters, and on-point descriptions about her tedious jobs. Her anxiety about money, her father, her future, the photo, permeates her narration, resulting in a novel that is not exactly easy or enjoyable to read. There are also many uncomfortable scenes where you either really do feel on Lu’s behalf (most of the exchanges she has with older men, as they tend to be condescending and/or dismissive of her and her work) or you will find yourself frustrated by the choices she’s making or by how cold and selfish she can sometimes be. I found her exceedingly relatable, especially when it came to her often conflicting desires (to be known/to be unknown).

“I didn’t want to talk to them. I didn’t want anyone to talk to me. I hoped a familiar hope, a hope I’d developed years before, in high school: that when they looked back on it no one would remember that I’d been there at all..”

This is a challenging read, one that is bound to make you think of what you would do in Lu’s position. Lyon's prose is effortlessly expressive and her clipped style gives Lu’s narrative a beautiful rhythm. If you have enjoyed other novels that focus on female artists, such as Jen Silverman's We Play Ourselves, Elizabeth Hand's Generation Loss, and Myla Goldberg's Feast Your Eyes, well, I would definitely recommend you check this one out.

“It could transform me from the unknown photographer I was into the artist I wanted to be: serious, disciplined, honest, ruthless. I was dizzy with anticipation. I was hungry with ambition. Self-Portrait #400 could change my life.”

ps: this novel as no quotation marks, which is a 'technique' I tend to dislike and actively avoid reading books implement it. Here however Lyon makes it quite clear who is talking as well as what is dialogue and what is Lu's narration.

[emma]

i love to read about art

[Nancy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Art is rooted in experience, and artists plumb their lives for their art. I think of F. Scott Fitzgerald and how he appropriated Zelda's letters and diaries and story for his work, or Thomas Wolfe whose first novel Look Homeward, Angel caused a ruckus in his hometown that was so thinly veiled in the book. And I think of Elizabeth Strout's recent novel My Name is Lucy Barton whose character is told she must be ruthless in her art. Artists are faced with telling the truth or protecting others.

On the first page of Self Portrait With Boy, we are told the main character, Lu Rile, was described as "ruthless," single minded. Lu, looking back on what happened twenty years previous, talks about the trauma behind the work that catapulted her into the limelight and tells us her story.


The novel begins with Lu admitting that at age twenty-six "there were so many people I had not yet become." I loved that line because it reflects how I have seen my life since I was a teenager: life is a continual process of growth and change, so that we become different people as we age.

Lu is a squatter in an old factory inhabited by artists. She works several low paying jobs and barely scraps by. Lu feels like an outsider, a girl who grew up poor and does not understand the world of the well-off and well-known artists around her.

Because she can not afford anything else, Lu becomes her own model and every day takes a self portrait. One day, she sets the timer on her camera and jumps, naked, in front of the large windows in her unheated apartment. When she develops the film she discovers that in the background she has captured the fatal fall of a child.

The child's parents become alienated in their grief, the successful artist father moving out while the mother, Kate, leans on Lu for support. It has been years since Lu had been close to anyone. She is unable to tell Kate about the photograph.

There are weird occurrences that make Lu believe the boy is haunting her and she becomes desperate to get rid of the photograph. Lu's father is in need of money for surgery, and she is pressured to join the others in the building in hiring a lawyer. Lu knows her photo is an amazing work and she struggles between success and the love she feels for Kate and the admiration for Steve.

Rachel Lyon's writing is amazing. I loved how she used sights, sounds, and aromas to make Lu's world real. This is her debut novel.

[Barbara · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lu Rile, a photography artist, who begins the novel saying “it” started as a simple, tragic accident, narrates “Self Portrait With Boy”. The “it” is an event involving a photograph, one that captured a neighbor boy falling from the roof of her building at the same time Lu is taking a self portrait. Lu states that she was twenty-six, ambitious and a baby “There were so many people I had not yet become”.

The narrative exposes the ruthlessness of the art world. In addition, author Rachel Lyon describes DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass) neighborhood in the nineties, when it was an area inhabited by struggling artists in dilapidated buildings. The area was undergoing gentrification with callous real estate moguls paying drug addicts and other illicit characters to drive out the renters by squatting, starting fires, planting rats, and vandalizing.

The novel exposes the desperation of struggling artists. Cash strapped and distraught, Lu takes a photo that could change her lifestyle; yet the photo could crush the parents of the young boy. The novel explores whether destructive ambition is necessary to succeed.

I enjoyed the novel because it’s a bit of a timepiece of NYC. Also, it’s an inside look at the art world.

[Kelli · Rating 2 out of 5]

I had this book out of the library for six weeks and it took me about that long to decide this isn’t the book for me. I have tried so hard to stick with it because it could be an incredible story but I found that I didn’t want to pick it up, and when I did, it felt like a slog to read a few pages. I’m bored with the main plot, which feels like an afterthought, and with the many tangential stories. I also struggled with some of GR stylistic choices and felt the lack of quotation marks didn’t work well with the writing.

It’s a brilliant premise but even I know when to cut my losses, though I acknowledge that the ending might be the redemption I’m seeking. Sadly, 2 stars.

[*TUDOR^QUEEN* · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was immediately drawn to the provocative premise of this book. It's the late 1980s. Young, struggling female NYC photographer Lu Rile lives in a former warehouse; a crumbling, illegal building of lofts. Lu's latest project has been taking a self-portrait each day. So far the results have not been extraordinary...until one fateful day. Lu sets up her camera and strips bare. At the appropriate moment, she leaps forward aside her wall of windows as the shutter releases, capturing her image in flight. Whilst Lu was airborne, she heard the sound of something tap against her window. Now there were more sounds. Lu would never, ever forget the animalistic howl of agony from Steve Schubert, the artist upstairs. Within seconds, Steve and his wife Kate were pounding down the hallway stairs. An unspeakable tragedy had just taken place. Steve and Kate's only child Max had fallen off the roof, fatally landing into an air vent. Days later when Lu develops the film, she makes a heart-stopping discovery: "Self-Portrait #400" captured beautiful blond-haired Max Schubert-Fine tumbling downward in her left window pane in perfect symmetry with Lu leaping across the right pane. As startling and horrific this is to discover, Lu can't deny the reality that this is her long-awaited masterpiece.

Lu works three jobs simultaneously while pursuing the dream to have her photographs shown in a prestigious art gallery. She even steals food from the health food store she works at to survive financially. So, "Self-Portrait #400" is like a ticking time bomb as Lu deals with its implications. Although she never interacted with the Schubert-Fines prior to the tragedy occurring, Lu has now become quite close with Kate. How can Lu bring herself to tell Kate about the picture and ask for permission to have it shown as an art piece? This is the major conflict in the book.

The author chose an unorthodox method of conveying the conversations between people. She used absolutely no quotations around the dialogue, nor identified by name the person who spoke each line (example: said Kate). You are just supposed to discern the narrators once the stage is set with the characters. At first it looked clean, simple and straightforward, but sometimes I had difficulty assigning the dialogue.

I love reading about the art scene in New York City decades past, so this was right up my alley. It was a slow burn resolving that pivotal issue of publicizing the photo, but the author managed to keep the story interesting while it bore itself out. This was definitely a well-executed out-of-the-box (my favorite kind) story.

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing this advance reader copy in return for my fair and honest review.

[Lolly K Dandeneau · Rating 5 out of 5]

via my blog: https://bookstalkerblog.wordpress.com/
'Tragedy is insignifigant, banal.'

Is it? Lu Rile is hungry, to be something in the art world, to make her mark no matter what. Art is to be seen, be it disturbing or not. Is it her fault if the photo that could make her career happens to be another woman’s all consumning tragedy? When she accidentally captures a young boy falling to his death in a photograph of herself, she has to decide whether betrayal is a worthy price to pay in the name of art. By chance, the boy lives in the same riverside warehouse she does, a place that smells of rat poisoning and turpentine, the only place she can afford in New York. Working in a health food store where she is treated poorly is the only way she can work on her picture a day plan, but time is of the essence, she has to be taken seriously if she will ever make a name for herself. When she forms an intensely close bond with Kate, Max’s greiving mother, the photo and the boy begin to haunt her, wreaking havoc on her sanity. This is her future, the gold, the meat and yet her love for Kate causes pause. She knows if she moves forward to show the photograph, it will be the ruin of everything she has built. There is a choice, or is there? Kate’s husband Steve is an artist, surely they understand art above all else belongs to the world? It cannot be denied that the photo is beautiful in it’s horror. It’s amazing what we convince ourselves of when it comes to our own wants.

Kate has taken Lu Rile into her home and heart, confiding the intimate struggles of her marriage, sharing the abyss of grief for her beloved,late gifted son Max, not once imagining Lu Rile is keeping the secret of her son’s final moments from her. That back in her own crummy apartment is a devastating photograph of his fall. Lu struggles just to survive, working in a health food store, her father depends on her and needs an expensive surgery, she simply is not making enough to maintain their lives. Kate knows the right people, everything is falling into place, this is the chance Lu must take, finally an oppurtunity to push her art out there. Can’t this be a blessing that blossoms out of grief and tragedy? Lu would be insane not to take advantage of the chances her friendship with Kate affords her. How much of her love and compassion, her tenderness for the deeply wounded, broken Kate is selfless? Can’t she take care of Kate but also look out for her own needs too? Why is it so wrong?

Who is this Lu? “There are so many people I had not yet become.” It seems there are so many versions of ourselves that haunt us, so many different people within us begging to be born. Is hunger and a drive to be someone reason enough to betray? Are there moral grounds that should never be tramped upon, even for the sake of art? It’s stunning the lengths people go to to make something of themselves, and what works wonderfully in this novel is the internal tug of war Lu is having within herself to do what is right, for her or for Kate, whom she’s come to love. How a novel can break your heart one moment and make you furious the next is a wonder.

I devoured this novel, it was ugly and beautiful, much like everything going on inside of Lu. It made me spitting mad at times too.

Publication Date: February 6, 2018

Scribner

[Janelle Janson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you so much to Scribner for providing my free copy of SELF-PORTRAIT WITH BOY by Rachel Lyon - all opinions are my own.

I knew immediately when I read the synopsis that this book was the one to read. It’s a well-written, very unique, haunting debut novel about a struggling young photographer named Lu Rile, who lives in an almost condemned building in Brooklyn, New York. While setting up her camera for a self-portrait, she captures an unimaginable tragedy. A nine-year-old boy, Max, slips from the roof and falls to his death. Lu happens to capture the boy as he falls from the sky which inadvertently creates an artistic masterpiece. After Max’s death, the neighbors rally around Max’s mother, Kate for support and that’s when Lu and Kate become close friends. Lu has to make a choice, her art and success or her friendship with Kate?

The writing is raw, fearless, and captures the moral dilemma in this story perfectly. I can’t even describe the layers to this book. Lu is hurting financially and even steals food from the store she works at, so this photograph can mean everything to her career and well-being. Although Lu wasn’t friends with Kate before, she is now and needs to figure out what to do next. SELF-PORTRAIT WITH BOY is razor sharp, thought-provoking, and very emotional. It’s a slow burn that hits you so hard at the end.

[Blair · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lu is an aspiring young photographer who’s flat broke and yet to have any success. It’s the early 90s, and despite Lu’s poverty she’s still able to keep a space in a massive (albeit freezing and rat-infested) Brooklyn loft, where she and numerous other artists are basically squatting. She’s 400 days into a self-portrait project when she takes a once-in-a-lifetime photograph: an image of herself jumping, in which an unfocused shape, seen through the window, appears to perfectly balance the composition. But the shape is in fact the blurred form of Max, her upstairs neighbours’ nine-year-old son, falling to his death from the top of the building. As Lu becomes increasingly convinced the image is a masterpiece that could launch her career, she also grows close to Kate, Max’s mother. Lu is close to starving, desperate to exhibit the photo and equally desperate not to lose Kate. Add in her conviction that Max’s ghost is haunting her apartment, and it seems clear Lu is heading for either a breakdown or a breakthrough. Maybe both.

Self-Portrait with Boy seemed perfect for me: an art novel with a moral dilemma at its heart, usually a reliably gripping combination. It’s a little quieter than I was expecting, albeit well-written. Lu is a conundrum: she can be unpleasantly selfish, seeing her father (who raised her alone) mostly as an inconvenience or embarrassment; yet she’s too inert, not ruthless enough, to be a juicy antiheroine. All in all Lu is quite a blurry character, perhaps exactly what people mean when they talk about ‘morally grey’. I think her arc could have gone in a slightly more interesting direction, but there are some good details here – I liked that Lu is genuinely poor; characters in these sort of stories so often have rich parents who can swoop in at a convenient juncture – and while I’ve got no way of knowing whether it’s accurate, the book brings early-90s Brooklyn to life vividly. While this story lacks the propulsive nature of Fake Like Me or the emotional core of What I Loved, it might appeal to anyone who enjoyed either.

[Lisa (NY) · Rating 3 out of 5]

[3+] From the first pages, I was drawn into the world of photographer Lu Riles and her struggles to make it as an artist in NYC. But the momentum didn't last. Living in DUMBO she creates a stunning photo by accident and then spends the next 300 or so pages feeling torn about it. This might have worked if I was simpatico with Lu but she felt flat to me. I did like the portrayal of the art world.

[Marjorie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh how Lu Rile longs to make her mark in the photography world. She has struggled so hard and her art means everything to her. During a series of self-portraits, she inadvertently captures the fatal fall of a young boy past her window. The resulting photograph is her masterpiece, the work that her artistic life has centered on achieving. But there’s a problem. She’s become friends with, possibly even has fallen a bit in love with, the young boy’s mother, Kate, and she can’t bring herself to tell Kate about this photo. And another problem has arisen – the young boy, Max, is haunting Lu, appearing outside of the window that he fell past on his way to his death.

I’m finding it difficult to believe that this is a debut novel by this author. I think she may have been a student of Joyce Carol Oates, one of my favorite authors, since she went to Princeton where Ms. Oates teaches and Ms. Oates wrote a glowing blurb for the book. That blurb is what drew me to this book. This novel had everything I could ask for. I didn’t just read this book – I lived this book. I lived in the dilapidated warehouse along with Lu and the other illegal tenants. I walked the Brooklyn streets with Lu as she took her photos and went to her three jobs. I stayed with her and her father when he underwent eye surgery. And I sweated over her dilemma of what to do with her controversial photo right along with her. I could hardly bear to read the last pages of this book. I was so invested in the story that it felt personal.

I won’t tell any more about the plot of this book than the publisher has chosen to. I leave it to the author to tell her story, which she does to perfection.

Most, most highly recommended.

This book was given to me by the publisher in return for an honest review.

[Joy D · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a book designed around a moral quandary. Lu is a struggling photographer. She accidentally takes a photo of her neighbor’s son falling to his death, and it turns out to be one of the most compelling photos she has ever taken. She and the boy’s mother, Kate, become friends and Lu tries her best to provide emotional support to help Kate deal with her grief. In doing so, she feels more a part of her community of “artists in residence” of their apartment building. An art promoter is interested in the photo. Should Lu be loyal to her new best friend or take advantage of the opportunity to further her career?

I thought I knew what the answer “should be” (at least from my personal viewpoint) and it was interesting to follow the course of events to Lu’s ultimate decision and how she deals with the complications that arise. I found the first half to be engrossing. I think the author lost her way in the second half. The narrative diverts from the main storyline of the boy and the photo and goes down several rabbit trails. There is a long and strange diversion into Lu’s relationship with her aging father and a scenario involving a real estate takeover of her apartment building. Even so, it would make a great book to discuss with a group.

[Kerry · Rating 4 out of 5]

"A photograph is a secret about a secret." Diane Arbus

The books starts with this quote and it is perfect for this story.

An incredible debut novel I listened to on audio. 4.5 stars.

A story about art, photography and coming of age with a lot of gumption, ambition and a few not so good decisions. It is a book that really deserves a wider audience and I would highly recommend the audio. It is close character study of Lou, a 26 year old recent art school graduate now living in a squatter loft in the DUMBO area of New York City. The time frame is the 90's. Lou is surrounded and befriended by other young and not so young artists, all either in or trying to make it in the NYC art scene.

She wants to be recognized for her work in Photography. When she takes a photo that may prove her breakthrough but will damage and perhaps destroy an important relationship to her, she must come to terms with what is most important to her and what she is willing to pay for it. I found a lot to think about especially about art and photography that added so much to this brilliantly written story. Loved it so much I went right out to find it in print.

[Karen · Rating 2 out of 5]

A great idea for a book. The first two chapters were intriguing. After that, I wondered if anyone had actually edited this book. Difficult to even explain why I don't like it and why I think it can't really have been edited - the narrator's voice becomes annoying and a lot if it is simple boring sentences of first I did this. Then I did this. Over and over and over. Character after character seem to have little purpose and the side story with her father also seems to have little purpose. The no quotation marks is interesting I guess but it doesn't add a thing to the stilted and clunky writing in my opinion. A sample sentence -"We locked eyes and smiled and the world fell away like a veil, leaving just the two of us.'' Clunk. Reads like a teenager girl's diary. Clunk clunk.
The concept of the book was so interesting but the book took the idea and went nowhere with it.
And the main character is unlikable but I'm thinking that is because the writing is so bad she couldn't be likable. Short sentences. That drag on. That go nowhere.
Ugh. Maybe someone else can take the central idea of the book and write a different novel? Really not trying to be snarky but editors! Edit!

[Chris · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a book about art, photography, a set of mismatched artistic neighbors in a delapidated New York warehouse sectioned off into “apartments” and run by a slumlord. Lu is our main character, a young photographer, yearning for her break, personally, financially and into the art world. She resigns herself to take a self portrait every day, with the lines, the light and images differing day by day.

The one day she takes her self portrait, she takes a nude leap in front of her window (flying) and ends up capturing behind her, the upstairs neighbors son, falling off the balcony to his death. It is a carastrophic photo. It is a beautiful photo. She has captured both flying and falling in one frame. It is a photo that will name her and accelerate her and her work into the famed art world. It is a photo that will help her get out of debt. It is a photo that will harm some friendships and result in more dismay. It is a photo that will haunt her. It is a photo that will make her question her morals and integrity. It is a photo that may have sent the dead boys’ ghost to tap-tap at her window.

The other warehouse occupants are quite artsy as well and Lu’s acquaintances and friendships with them build into the story. They get together for fun; they get together to overthrow their landlord/maintenance man in an effort to maintain the building, keep the heat on. It is unsafe; it is not secure for adults and especially for children. Some residents are basically living in squalor. They are all legally considered as squatters. There is no rental contract/agreement. Hence, this all comes falling down as the property is in the process of being sold and everyone will be bought out or evacuated. Lu does not know where she will go. She’s working three jobs already and also helping to pay for medical and other expenses for her Dad.

She makes a decision to show the “Self Portrait with Boy” at a local art gallery and had to really, really push the owner hard to take it. When the deceased boys’ mother sees it on display, she has a breakdown and Lu realizes what a horrible and painful betrayal she’s made of her friend; of not telling her about the photo and her decision to show it. However, this photo has given her the break she’s needed into the highly competitive art world. No one has ever captured anything quite like this before.

This ambition comes with both consequences and finding ones’ self; making her mark. Lu can’t have one without the other. The fact that the building also played a part in the child’s fall and it coming apart at the seams leads into the story. But Lu finally is at peace with it all because her blatant determination to show her stunning photo has caused all the other areas of her life to settle in place at the end.

[Bill Muganda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Following my sudden interest in narratives that center around female photographers, I was eagerly waiting to get to this one.

Set in the 90s, we follow a young aspiring photographer Lue Rile, juggling multiple jobs, living in a rundown warehouse just trying to make a name for herself in the New York art scene. She has this long series of self-portraits and one day she happens to capture a falling boy outside of her apartment window in one of her portrait sessions. This incident brings her closer to her neighbors and also paves way for her career growth (steeped with so much controversy), sparking ethical conversations on the exploration of art at the expense of people's trauma, the nuances of visual storytelling, consent in viral culture and so much more.

As a debut this was truly impressive, it did lose me at times but the questions it brought to the table really resonated with me. I constantly felt my interpretations waver, I was uncomfortable and I kept pausing, gauging the situation from both angles. It will definitely linger for a while.
It's actually funny how another recent read A Tale For The Time Being by Ruth Ozeki also briefly touches on the famous photograph The Falling Man a photograph taken by photographer Richard Drew of a man falling from the World Trade Center during the September 11 attacks in New York City

[Brooke · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars for this impressive debut!
RTC.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Self-Portrait With Boy, Rachel Lyon’s debut, focuses on Lu Rile, a working-class artist in her mid-twenties, living in a condemned tower block in Brooklyn’s DUMBO – Down Under The Manhattan Bridge Overpass – district in the 1990s, before gentrification swept the area. (Lyon’s vivid depiction recalls Ivy Pochoda’s treatment of a different Brooklyn neighbourhood, Red Hook, under threat in Visitation Street.) Lu makes ends meet by working in a grocery store, but all the same, she’s constantly on the edge; costs mount up as she has to pay for her father’s cataract treatment, legal fees as her neighbours try and keep hold of their building, and materials and printing for her own photography projects. And despite Lu’s commitment to her work – for example, she takes a self-portrait every day – she’s nowhere near breaking through. But when a neighbour’s child, Max, falls to his death from the roof of the tower block, Lu accidentally creates a masterpiece; having set up her camera to capture herself leaping in front of her loft window, she also catches Max falling outside. What should she do with this photo – Self-Portrait #400?

Read the rest of this review on my blog https://drlauratisdall.wordpress.com/... [4.5 stars]

[Kira FlowerChild · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not quite sure how to review this book. There are really only two major moments in the story: The moment when photographer Lu Rile discovers she has inadvertently caught a nine-year-old boy's accidental fall to his death from the roof of her building on film, and the moment when the boy's parents, Kate and Steve, discover that Lu has chosen to exhibit this photograph to further her career.

It took a while for the story to get around to the first moment. I actually put down the book and read seven other books while pondering whether I should continue. The prose is dense and muddy and there are no quotes to indicate dialogue, an affectation I find irritating. To be honest, though, I seldom had any trouble distinguishing dialogue from exposition.

But if it took the author a long time to get to the first moment of interest oh. my. god. it took her until a few pages from the end to get to the second point of interest. In the meantime, the character of Lu Rile just gets nastier and meaner and more alienated from both friends and family. When Lu went home at Christmas, I absolutely wanted to throw the book across the room when I read how badly she treated her father. When Lu kept cozying up to Kate, listening to Kate talk about the child she lost, all the while behind Kate's back begging and pleading with a gallery owner to exhibit the photo showing the child falling, well, if it hadn't been a library book, I would have been tempted to burn it.

The only reason I kept reading this novel is to see how the boy's parents, Kate and Steve, would react when they saw the photograph, enlarged to fifty inches square, displayed on a public gallery wall. I read until three o'clock in the morning to finish it so I wouldn't have to have anything more to do with this...book.

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

Self-Portrait With Boy is structured around a photograph taken by the main character, Lu Rile, in which she accidentally captures something tragic (this is described on the book's cover, but I won't spoil it here) and has to decide whether or not to keep the image and use it to further her struggling art career. The decision is complicated by several things: the controversial content of the photo; her developing friendship with her upstairs neighbor, Kate; the artistic quality of the image (it's by far the best Lu has ever made); and Lu's dire financial situation. Within the plot framework of this prolonged decision are descriptions of the 1990's Brooklyn art world, explorations of development and gentrification during that time period, a beautiful character study of Lu as she "begins to become herself" and awakens romantically, and peeks into several fraught family relationships. Although it isn't hard to guess what will happen with the photograph, there was enough sense of foreboding around that, and enough side plot to keep me interested. And the writing! The writing was the cherry on top. Spare at times, beautifully descriptive at others, but never pretentious or unnecessary. I loved this book.

[Drew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Unexpected, in so many ways. A terrific entry into the "artists-in-pre-21st-Century-NYC" canon, one of the best novels about a photographer I think I've ever read, and a story about being haunted by all kinds of things. It's a bit of a slow start but the book works on you and then you consume the last 175 pages in a single sitting. Or at least, I did.

[Stephanie · Rating 1 out of 5]

Ugh. UUGGGGGHHH. I don't even know where to start. The premise sounded decent enough... but I haaaated every character, every everything. I stuck with it to the end, hoping for a little light to make it worth my while, but... ugh. The main character was a horrible person and no one else could make up for it. Save yourselves, move on.

[Claire · Rating 4 out of 5]

A 4,5 star read. The novel is really mesmerizing, pulling you in right from the start. The style is very fine, the tone conveys excellent the characters of the book. Most of all I loved all the moral dilemma in it.

[Michelle · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Do you believe that art is a dangerous illusion, that art obscures truth? -- or do you allow that by witnessing art the viewer experiences catharsis?"



Lu Rile's answer to this question was "I don't believe there is any relationship between art and morality." As a young photographer yearning to be recognized Lu Rile is barely scraping by. Squatting in an artists' residence she makes do by stealing food from the health food store where she works. Socially awkward and reclusive, the only support system she can count on is her ailing father. While working on a series of self portraits, she stumbles upon her "accidental masterpiece" when she inadvertently captures her neighbor's son falling to his death. The juxtaposition of her flying against him falling for her is the perfect rendition of failure -- flying as a "constant negotiation" between resisting the currents that weigh us down and adapting as we fall. Despite her answer to this question, she cannot get past the morality issue. Although she wants acclaim for her work, a part of her knows it is wrong to put this portrait on display when she is now becoming friends with the mother of the deceased boy. Yet she still earnestly pushes for it to be showcased. She evades her dilemma and loses sight of the bigger picture -- that Kate has lost her only son. Lu cannot seem to wrap her head around the fact that seeing his death captured in the moment would utterly devastate her. She keeps telling herself that Kate would see the beauty in her art. Self Portrait with Boy takes you through Lu's inner turmoil and asks what is the purpose of art. Is it to stir you out of your complacency? Is it to comfort the troubled mind? At what point do we forsake morality and kinship for beauty?

[Heather O'Neill · Rating 2 out of 5]

Lu Rile is a struggling artist living in NY during the early 90s. One day Lu is taking a picture of herself (for her self portrait series) and she happens to capture the moment of a young boy falling to his death. The picture is magnificent and Lu wants to do everything she can to get it seen, but at the same time she is apprehensive because since the boy's death she has become friends with his mother Kate, who lives in the same building.

Someone I know raved about this book and gave it five stars. Usually our book tastes align, but I just could not get into this book at all. It was a book that I was ready to quit, but since it was raved about I thought that maybe things got better, but they never did for me. I could care less about Lu, the main character. She was so self centered and not likeable at all (IMO). I didn't feel like the ghost part of the story fit in with the rest of the novel, unless Lu was crazy, but that was never addressed. It was really hard to like this book when I didn't like the main character and all of her decisions. She really didn't seem to have any redeemable qualities about her.

[Susie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rachel Lyon's debut novel, Self-Portrait with Boy, was different to anything I have ever read before and I found it compelling. It centres around Lu Rile, a fledgling artist who is squatting in an abandoned Artists in Residence warehouse that has been converted into a makeshift apartment building, despite the fact that it is falling apart and should be condemned. Lu has been taking a portrait a day, and when she takes her 400th portrait she accidentally captures her neighbours' son falling to his death. The photograph turns out to be a masterpiece, and leaves Lu conflicted about what she should do with the finished product. What follows examines the cost of success in the art world.

The novel was beautifully written, and was completely unique. The protagonist was so well drawn. Despite her morally questionable behaviour I found myself cheering her on as Lyon had done such a good job of baring her vulnerabilities, showing that not all things are black and white, that we mostly live in grey, and that Lu was just trying to navigate the grey. I really enjoyed the glimpse into the human side of the art world.

Thanks Rachel for your recommendation.

[Heather · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really original novel with a very distinct and interesting narrator's voice. I really liked the pacing of the book too, and I thought the author did a great job making the narrator's central conundrum believable. I maybe could have done without the supernatural elements, but they weren't overly distracting and did add to the ominous mood. I may be stretching a bit with the 5 rating, but what the hell, it's my birthday and I'm feeling magnanimous.