Title: Brushes Author: M. Christian Publisher: Phaze Publish Date: 2008 Pages: 286 Genres:: Fiction, Fantasy Reviewer: J. Arathoon

Rating:

Brushes is a portrait of Escobar, a newly famous Spanish painter living in Paris. Told through the eyes of eight different people—Escobar’s wife, his brother, his dealer, a model, an art professor, a forger, a journalist, and finally Escobar himself—Brushes is an examination of the art world and a look at how fame can take on a life of its own. Every person in the story has an opinion of Escobar, and most are based more on his art and the persona that has built up around his work than on the actual artist himself.

The plot is largely non-existent, but there are mysteries that unfold and get resolved as you read. For example, the chapter focusing on Escobar’s dealer, Marcel, shows a conflicted man who both revels in the success of Escobar but at the same time spends his days in frenzied paranoia, believing that Escobar must be betraying their contract for exclusivity. When a purportedly authentic Escobar is brought to him on the sly, it confirms all of the Marcel’s suspicions. Marcel’s chapter tackles his specific resolution with this painting, but it isn’t until later chapters that we learn what that painting’s history actually was (very different from what Marcel imagined), and not until the very end of the book that an answer is given about whether Escobar is actually betraying anyone.

The book is clearly written to be described as “imbued with sensuality”; the words throughout are carefully selected to drip with erotic overtones and tension, and night can’t turn into day without “the moon impaling itself on the cornices.” The language is frequently beautiful, although perhaps a bit too reliant on luxurious goods to create a feeling of lushness; at times, it feels like every person is draped in silks and jewels and every glass is a bubbling champagne flute.

However, though undeniably sensual, the book isn’t necessarily sexy. The characters are all lonely and generally melancholy or emotionally tormented. While there is sex throughout, it is often told in flashback style or as a fantasy, rather than in-the-moment. Moreover, after the first few sex scenes, which end on very depressing notes, it is hard to lose yourself in any scene and enjoy it without a foreboding feeling looming over the moment.

While this is a thoughtful and often lovely read, it doesn’t necessarily work on all levels as erotica. Readers looking for a fun sexy romp should stay clear, but readers who like their erotica infused with philosophical ruminations on culture and the state of modern art will find this to be a gem.