There are only so many graphic depictions of battered women that I can take and this book exceeded my threshold. ( )

This is my third Newford, and again it was a wonderful read. A bit easier to get into than my previous ones. I think because there were less characters, or at least, they were introduced more slowly. So far I have loved every Newford book, in particular the atmosphere and friendships that can be found in them. I very much liked the descriptions of the creative process as seen through de Lint's eyes. And I liked the characters, even if they were quite a bit darker than I remember from Someplace to be flying and Forests of the heart. The whole story had its dark sides, with themes of abuse and suicide. But it also showed the light. ( )

As the young student of the brilliant Vincent Rushkin, Isabelle Copley discovered she could paint images so real they brought her dreams to life. But when the forces she unleashed brought tragedy to those she loved, she turned her back on her talent - and on those dreams. Now, twenty years later, Isabelle must come to terms with the memories she has long denied, and unlock the power of her brush. And, in a dark reckoning with her old master, she must find the courage to live out her dreams, and bring the magic back to life.

I think I spent just about this entire book wondering exactly how unreliable our unreliable narrator is...and I think that’s fascinating. How much of this can be chalked up to influence, or to mental illness, or simply her humanity? Because Isabelle truly is very flawed -- she’s a pushover, she’s the archetypical abuse survivor before realizing she’s being abused, she makes excuses and finds ways to make things her fault. She chews on things in her anxiety until they lose all meaning. We have no idea how much to trust her, because her own friends wonder at her motives and actions and if she truly did things she claims she didn’t.

A story that brings the concept of 'creating our own reality' to life -- and that truth is only the story we tell ourselves. ( )

This was a bit of slow starter for me, but Charles de Lint is good at making the separate parts join together into a climactic whole. There was a particular passage that I felt summed up the creative process beautifully. "...the only lasting venues for any form of art are dream and memory; inspiration leaps from the former to be eventually stored in the latter." Each person brings their own experiences to the interpretation of the art, but it is never truly owned by any one person. In that aspect the creation of art and living a life are a similar process. Never quite the same for any two people, but hopefully some common ground can be found. None of this touches on the actual plot of the story, or the characters, but it does touch on what I think of as the soul of the book, or more appropriately, the spirit of it. Once we create something, it takes on a life of its own, and at that point, trying to control it is folly at best. ( )

I love this book so much that any words I wrote could never do it justice. For a long time I was convinced Charles de Lint was a woman using a man's name...that's how well he sees into the female heart and mind when he writes. His books are beautiful, magical and heart-breakingly accurate when it comes to love. ( )