Notes from my DNF at around 60%.
This book sets up a very dense, historically involved sequence of events whose ambitions I loved. I kind of enjoyed how creepy the opening scene was, and the way the lack of consent was later called-out by the hero. Heroine discovers Hero sprawled out naked in an alley and reeking of alcohol, and is entranced by his nude form. She's an art student who's prevented from real lifedrawing classes by prohibitions on women students attending them, so she's only ever worked from plaster casts and clothed models. So she memorizes his appearance, then paints a portrait of him which she sells to a customer as a representation of Endymion.
Hero discovers his likeness has been used for a nude portrait purchased by his business partner's wife, when the business partner accuses him of having an affair with her. One things leads to another: the heroine is tracked down at her art academy, having used just her literal last name to sign the portrait rather than a pseudonym (lol). She's persuaded to turn over her preparatory drawings as well. Subsequently, she blackmails the hero is into supporting her housing preservation campaign, as her block is slated for demolition for housing improvements by corrupt politicians. Meanwhile, the heroine is counter-blackmailed by the hero's estate manager to try to entrap the hero into being caught drinking, thus violating the terms of his father's estate trust. This is so the estate manager can prolong the trust, preventing him from managing his own fortune. And the hero is seriously traumatized by both his family's troubled past and his time fighting a colonial war in Afghanistan. His trauma doesn't seem calculated to garner sympathy, but to give him real roadblocks to functional adult life he must overcome. All that was great. I mean aside from presenting the trauma of the oppressor without any of the trauma of the oppressed, which, hmm, but that's not my personal issue with the book's scope. It's thoughtful, clever and dense. But this book managed to annoy me in so many distinct ways apart from its plot that I found myself too disengaged to continue.
Firstly, the writing style. The writing is absolutely packed with backstory. In the first scene where we meet the hero, he's being held at gunpoint. He gives us mental infodumps on his butler's eavesdropping habits, his time in Afghanistan in a prison, his kinky brother's sex scandal and subsequent death, his missing sister, the terms of his estate trust, and his alcoholism, all while a man is yelling at him about his supposed affair with his wife and brandishing a weapon at him, while we're confused about what they are to each other because it's mostly a lot of contextless yelling and infodumps. This is really a lot? It just feels like we're never present in the moment because we're being pulled back to the past every three seconds for another infodump. And dialogue is like that too. There's a line of dialogue, the hero or heroine digresses into their thoughts and memories about that line, for a page to half a page; another line of dialogue, repeat process. It makes the scenes plod and the dialogue dissolve into non-sequiturs because it's so hard to remember what was the thing that was actually said to which they're now responding.
The next thing that bothered me was the way making art was depicted. And I get it - not everyone who writes about a certain discipline has to be a complete expert in that area, because IMHO that would be unnecessarily gatekeeping. A text doesn't have to be highly informed about art to have art as a plot. But the way it's portrayed here - it often doesn't make any rational sense? For example, we might think Lucy has a photographic memory because she looks at the hero for a few minutes, memorizes his appearance, and then makes some sketches from memory, and then, also from memory, spends multiple months on a very realistic painting of him which is apparently technically impressive. But in later work, she's continually getting other paintings wrong with the subjects right in front of her - she'll say things like "his face had the surface of cheese" and white it out and start over. So either she has an amazingly photographic memory, or she doesn't, but it can't be both. And art is a technical process in which habitual knowledge minimizes the scope of errors you're likely to make? It's unlikely that a face starts looking like cheese accidentally; it's more likely that thanks to mistakes with fine details, you haven't achieved a good likeness.
And this was on top of some really annoyingly inaccurate depictions of what fine art school is like. I've taken lifedrawing classes. There's no way people are milling around chitchatting while a model sits, as they do in the opening scene, where there's a clothed woman sitting for a bust portrait and everyone's making small talk about the visiting Duke. It is hard to retain a pose, and out of respect for the model, you work flat-out during their time posing. Often they're only going to sit for 10-30 min, and that's the time you have, so if you're not done, too bad. Finally, if you're paying to go to an art institution, sure you might get casual crits from your friends, like Lucy gets from her art school BFF. But they are not your most important or insightful critic, because you're paying good money to have informed criticism from your instructors that'll take you a lot further. These students do not receive instruction for the first 60% of the book, and that's just not how it is.
Finally there's a lot of "the heroine is not like other girls" nonsense going on that just made me roll my eyes. In that art school scene where everyone's gabbing about The Duke, the heroine is too focused on her work to pay attention to the silly, flirtatious students who dare to be interested in him who are presented as highly annoying, the heroine virtuous for being serious, focused on her work, and Not Like Them. Later, the heroine meets a rival for the hero's affections. This woman is one of those silly vapid women we're supposed to hate. We know this because she's introduced to us by complaining about the tedium of going to Paris for dress fittings, then whining about not getting her choice of vacation destinations. The heroine ends up telling the rival that her dress is dyed with arsenic, and staining it with ammonia to prove it to her. There is a friend relationship that's positive, and Lucy helps one of her art school rivals catch a cab in another scene, so I guess not all other women are bad and dumb; just flirtatious and/or rich ones.
And honestly, if I'd connected with either of the characters at all, I would have been able to get past these things. But I found myself so completely bored during the 55%-ish sex scene that I didn't bother to finish it. Each time hero and heroine interacted, I felt like the kiss they were having or the disrobing that was happening wasn't something that would ever naturally or logically occur - it felt forced.