Нью-Йорк конца XIX века. Преуспевающий салонный портретист Пьеро Пьямбо уже несколько лет страдает от творческой неудоволетворенности. Ему упорно кажется, что, рисуя за хорошие деньги портреты богатых горожан, он с каждым днем только растрачивает последние крупинки собственного таланта. Поэтому странный заказ от загадочной миссис Шарбук Пьямбо живописец принимает просто с невероятным энтузиазмом. Дело в том, что условие новой клиентки весьма необычно. Пьямбо должен написать её портрет, но при этом ни разу не увидев её лица. Чтобы помочь Пьямбо в этом начинании миссис Шарбук будет ежедневно встречаться с ним в своем особняке и отвечать из-за темной ширмы на любые вопросы смелого художника.Уже к концу первой недели Пьямбо понимает, что оказался во власти чарующих историй своей клиентки. К концу второй он осознает наличие странного заговора, в центре которого он сейчас пребывает. На третьей неделе живописцу становится ясно, что происходящее гораздо страшнее. Оно напрямую связано с поразившей город страшной болезнью, получившей у полиции диковатое название “карфагенских слез”. Любой, подхвативший этот вирус, начинает незамедлительно плакать кровавыми слезами, умирая через пару часов от острой потери крови…Образцовый исторический детектив с роскошной постмодернисткой виньеткой. Понятно, что развязку книги можно предположить уже на странице сотой, но от этого она явно не становится хуже. Необычный нарратив и забавные былинки типа рассказа про предсказателя по снежинкам и предсказателя по дерьму несомненно украшают это произведение, делая одним из лучших представителей своего жанра. Для меня эта книга стала первым знакомством с писателем Джеффри Фордом, но окончательно вердикта его творчеству я не могу вынести даже после трилогии про Отличный Город. Одно очевидно: у писателя невероятно легкий язык. Не простой или пустой, а именно легкий, что встречается в литературе невероятно редко. Слава богу, что мне не довелось знакомиться с этим автором на английском. Уверен, что при подобном раскладе не обратил бы на многие его феньки ни малейшего внимания и поэтому бы обвинил его в жуткой халтуре. Аминь! (2006.06.05)
In New York 1893, an accomplished painter, Piambo, is offered a strange commission to paint the portrait of a woman solely based on the stories she tells hidden from view behind a screen. There’s quite a lot of money at stake and from the offset it feels like an extrapolation of the tug of war between the commercial and creative needs of a professional artist. Each tale she tells of her childhood and later history is more fantastical than the next and draws strange parallels with Piambo’s experiences.One by one even the most unbelievable of her stories is validated or in some mundane way explained, yet the narrative tapestry she weaves and increasingly strange events Piambo witnesses progressively increase the feeling that our painter, narrator is doomed. However, Piambo’s desire as painter and his personal philosophy strive to present the truth of a subject, not just their outward appearance. We see this in the opening of the book as he paints an idealized portrait of wealthy donor while none to subtly implying the truth by including in the frame wilting flowers in an expensive vase and goldfish bowl. Another example bookends the novel as Piambo considers a series of landscapes his self portrait.The particular creative driving force of our protagonist subverts the manipulations of his subject. It’s clear from the beginning that she derives some sense of satisfaction from asking the impossible from a talented individual. As the story progresses it becomes clear that she’s mentally disturbed and has over the years managed her deteriorating mind by dressing it up as creativity and showmanship. The power play she initiates with a truly talented individual in Piambo is a last ditch effort to gain control of her sanity. It may have worked in the past, seemingly transferring the worst of her mental issues to various egotistical artists, but in this case she’s revealed for who she is and is undone.Ford expertly pieces this story together, each narrative twist, whether part of Piambo’s adventures or Mrs. Charbuque’s stories or the introduction of colorful side characters are all in dialog. The result is a delightfully self referential piece that attempts to answer twin identity related questions raised explicitly by the narrator early in the novel: “What have I become?” and “What am I now to do?” Complete review: http://mentatjack.com/2015/02/16/revi...
Do You like book The Portrait Of Mrs. Charbuque (2003)?
Piambo is a successful painter of New York society portraits. Feeling that he is not living up to his artistic potential, he impetuously accepts a mysterious commission from a blind man who accosts him on his way home one night. As learns the next day, he will be paid an unprecendented sum to paint Mrs. Charbuque. The catch? He cannot see her. The lady sits behind a screen and tells him a bizarre tale of her isolated childhood as the daughter and assistant of a man who believed he could learn the future through close examination of individual snowflakes. Meanwhile, unrelated women die weeping tears of blood.A highly original work, if at times a touch beyond belief. There were some weaknesses in the second half of the novel. And be warned: all the characters are more or less insane, so don't read it if that sort of thing bothers you.
—Miriam
An engaging, poised novel that makes a great use of its central premise: a painter is hired to paint a portrait of a woman, except he isn't allowed to look at her. Instead, she tells him the story of her life--which is fantastic, bordering on the cosmological, and seems to be creeping into the world around the painter in ominous ways. Along the way, just like in Ford's stories, there are moments of imagination (delivered in this impressionistic, almost liquid smooth prose) that impressed me more than anything I've seen in a long time: they felt genuinely strange and new... an effect that, for the most part, I've felt like I was immune to for the last few years. In the end, though, the effect of the novel is more like a mystery or thriller: the taut, rigorous pacing, which culminates in an especially engaging final act. I don't remember the last time a story so complex and slippery has also been so propulsive to get through--and just for that, this novel is already doing something great. Like most mystery novels, the novel ultimately disempowers itself with answers (and along the way, Ford used one of my least favorite twists), but without giving up that balance between the incomprehensively vast and mundane. Also, the more rigorous structure fills some of the holes in Ford's short fiction, which has the same imaginative qualities but tends to drift and be formless in a way that didn't always seem productive.I'm really glad I checked out this book, and looking forward to reading probably everything Ford has ever written.
—Kyle Muntz
When I picked up this book, I was expecting something along the lines of The Portrait of Dorian Gray. There are a few similarities; in fact the Portrait of Dorian Gray is mentioned at the beginning of the book. Both of them lift questions they don’t really answer but that’s about as far as the similarities go. This book is actually quite hard to define and classify… it’s fiction and fantasy and mystery all at once… and then when you look back on it, there’s no real supernatural explanation…What I found interesting, more than the plot and the progression of the story towards finding out more about the Charbuques, was the characters: Pambo and Shenz, but also the Man from the Equator and Borne, the turdologist who reads the future in your past meals (once digested if I may add). I thought Ford did an amazing at capturing the real essence of those characters as his main character tries to capture Mrs Charbuques. To get back to the Pambo, at first I was surprised by the author’s style and his sometime heavy metaphors and I started wondering whether that was his style in general (this is the first book I’ve read of him) or if he was just portraying Pambo as an artist (the book is a first person narration)… I think the latter comes closer to the truth… in addition to that, there’s Ford’s attempt (and success!) at reproducing the late 19th century writing style.Overall, I found intriguing and somewhat philosophical in the questions it asks and the paradox it put forward. I’m certainly going to give a try to Ford’s other books.
—Roxane
