I came to this via the film Tim's Vermeer and the excellence of my county library.
Well, this is certainly not a book one could read on a Kindle. Hockney works a compelling example of "show, don't tell", though to be fair he does both. The book opens with a long section of large-format and well-reproduced pictures of paintings, essential to and the foundation of his arguments, goes on to a section of select quotes from historical documents about the uses of mirrors and lenses from Roman times onward (the quote from Seneca had me giggling, in this age of internet porn -- indeed, there is no new thing under the sun), and concludes with Hockney's correspondence with various colleagues that tracks the development of his theses and this very book, recursively.
This last, again, allows the reader to see the ideas taking shape. As a kind of early e-mail, Hockney and friends evidently conducted a lot of their exchanges via faxed letter, speaking of the effect of technology on, well, everything. It is not only due to the fact that most of the participants were trained older academics that the letters are so polished and coherent and camera-ready. If the same correspondence were conducted after e-mail, the exchanges might well have been more colloquial, cut-up, and fluid. I am put in mind of the shift between mail and e-mail with one of my own overseas correspondents. Our paper letters went easily into a later article; I don't think one could do that with our later e-mails, or at least, they'd take a hellalot more editing. I also saw my own experience of kicking half-formed ideas around with friends paving their way for later, more public utterances, all part of the process. Hockney lets you see the sausages being made. (It also sped up the production of the book, I expect, for a busy artist who likely wanted to get back to painting by then.)
The news to Hockney, passed on by his tame optical physicist, that concave mirrors could produce projections seemed as much news to me as to him, until I reflected on telescopes, and all those articles I'd read, for example, about the 200-inch Palomar mirror being ground. But I never made the last connections either. Made me feel quite Ivanish.
In my prior exposures to art history, the material mostly rolled off me; this, I think, will stick.
Ta, L.