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Art and Lies

Jeanette Winterson

Paperback | Pages: 240 pages

Rating: 3.86 | 3815 Users | 172 Reviews

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Original Title:	Art & Lies
ISBN:	0679762701 (ISBN13: 9780679762706)
Edition Language:	English

Representaion In Pursuance Of Books Art and Lies

Handel is a failed priest but abiding Catholic with elitist tendencies whose work as a doctor forces him to consider social questions that he would probably rather avoid. Picasso, as she calls herself, is a young artist who has been sexually abused by her brother but whose family thinks she is at fault for her dark moods. Sappho is, indeed, Sappho, the lesbian poet of ancient Greece, who here proclaims herself a sensualist and then proceeds to dissect "the union of language and lust." The three converge in a place that may be England in a not-too-distant future made ugly by pollution and even uglier by greed. This is not a novel but an extended rift on art, sex, religion, social repression, the dangers of patriarchy, and everything that is wrong with the contemporary drift to the right. As such, it will be hard going for most readers, but those with some patience will discover exceptionally evocative writing and a vivifying review of some much-discussed contemporary issues.

Itemize Out Of Books Art and Lies

Title	:	Art and Lies
Author	:	Jeanette Winterson
Book Format	:	Paperback
Book Edition	:	First Edition
Pages	:	Pages: 240 pages
Published	:	February 20th 1996 by Vintage (first published 1994)
Categories	:	Fiction. GLBT. Queer. LGBT. Art. Contemporary

Rating Out Of Books Art and Lies

Ratings: 3.86 From 3815 Users | 172 Reviews

Judgment Out Of Books Art and Lies

"The doctor said he could find nothing wrong. She was healthy, she had work, she came from a good family. Her heart beat was normal. Was it? Well, perhaps a little too fast.Heart attack. Had her heart attacked her? Her heart, trained at obedience classes from an early age? Her heart, well muzzled in public, taught to trot in line. Her heart, that knew the Ten Commandments, and obeyed a hundred more. Her disciplined dogged heart that would come when it was called and that never strained its

Absolutely beautiful prose- but I sooo like a plot- and it was hard to find in this novel.

Edit: Reread December of 2019, book 24 of the 2019 reread project.Just under the wire, I have finished my goal of rereading 24 of my favorite books this year.And what a book to end it with. I have long said that Written on the Body is my favorite book. And while rereading it didn't light me on fire the way that I remembered, Art and Lies most certainly did.This is really a long prose poem, a gorgeous and meandering tale that is just so lovely, so achingly gorgeous.This may now be my favorite

I've given up. At about two-thirds of the way through this slim book, I just couldn't face carrying on. It's a shame, because I love Jeanette Winterson's other novels, but Art & Lies is so obtuse that it's practically unreadable. Halfway through the novel I had to look up what it was actually meant to be about because I still didn't have a clue - not a good sign. Taken in isolation, there a passages that are wonderful in terms of their sense of poetry and emotion, but these passages don't

I couldn't help but read this slowlyTo let the words surround me and fill meI wanted to stay as long as possible within the pagesResist the urge to devour every sentence, every word, letter, and periodWinterson has a way with wordsThey are dark, and rich, and beautifulI wanted to live them, breathe themSwim in a sea of her words.I consumed the last word and now I am sad that it is over.

The usual unsurpassed Winterson literary & lingual pyrotechnics and lyricism. Ideas of love, art, desire, history, big ideas dealt with in breathless fragments. The Handel and Picasso chapters were wondrous, the Sappho a bit more oblique and harder to grasp and therefore less satisfying. And the bawd, was well bawdy. Maybe just a bit too packed and breathless for my way of reading. One should probably bask in a couple of a pages at a time and go away and meditate on them before returning for

[Spoilers, disturbing ones at that, toward the end of this review.]My first encounter with Jeanette Winterson went badly. In college, I read Written on the Body and found it ludicrously overwritten, an imprecise prose poem wearing the guise of a novel, and poorly. I almost wish my Livejournal from that period of my life were still extant so I could quote from my bad review; I remember that it turned on mocking the line from the novel, Your clavicle is both keyboard and key (honestly, I still