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Nov 12, 2017wyenotgo rated this title 4 out of 5 stars
Three times I began to write a review of this book, only to discard all that I had written and start over in an entirely different mode. The Underpainter could only have been written by a writer supremely confident of her powers and unconcerned at the risk of rejection -- by a publisher, readers or both. I suspect there have been readers who abandoned it after the first hundred pages or so; that would be their loss. I cannot claim to have found it enjoyable reading in a conventional sense. There are major obstacles, mostly having to do with Austin, the narrator/protagonist, a man I found it impossible to like. He inhabits an inner life bereft of empathy, love, compassion. He is a user of the people, artifacts and surroundings that he encounters: they are all mere ingredients for his paintings. And those paintings -- especially those done late in life where all his meticulously executed detail (underpainting) is then deliberately obscured by layer upon layer of glaze -- those paintings become a metaphor for Austin himself. In his student days, Austin fell under the influence of a teacher, Robert Henri who proclaimed that the subject of a painting is of no consequence; it's only the execution of the art that matters and everything must be sacrificed to that art. This pernicious creed appeals to Austin's self-serving sociopathic nature and governs his actions. The question that I faced as I continued reading was: Can this man come to terms with his iniquities, can he seek redemption? And if so, does he even deserve it? In many places, Urquhart's writing is sublime, able to overcome the bleak nature of the story and illuminate the dark winter of Austin's frozen psyche. It's an impressive piece of work, greater than the sum of its parts and fully merits four stars.