There is a moment in Iain Pears "The Portrait" when you realize what is going to happen. In the hands of a lesser writer, this would have ruined the rest of the novel. But in Pears hands, it doesn't matter. You know what is going to happen, and the two characters know what is going to happen. Yet none of us can look away. "The Portrait" is a monologue. An artist is painting the portrait of a critic who is an old friend. The entire novel is the one sided conversation as the painting progresses, told from the mind of the artist. He lays bare, over the course of those conversations, their entire friendship. He also exposes both the critic's and the artist's own failings and demons. As I said, all of us know what is eventually going to happen. Yet Pears' prose is such that we hurtle towards the conclusion, engrossed, waiting anxiously to see what finally occurs, like a voyeuristic ghost. Unable to change the outcome, yet silently inside not wanting to. This was my first exposure to Iain Pears, but it won't be my last. ( )

I was initially sceptical of the monologue structure but once the story got going I soon accepted it, although it always seemed a little artificial. The finale is quite predictable, but I was still interested throughout the book and the evocation of the period and atmosphere is superb. In the end, I was glad the book wasn't any longer, the monologue device is just a little too tiring. ( )

Modern classic horror novella.

Modern classic horror novella.

Frankly, when I realized that this book was entirely written in the first person with only one voice, that of the narrator, Henry MacAlpine. I thought to myself, you will never make it through this. I think it helped that it was an audio book and I was listening not reading. The narrator had a Scottish accent, which made it quite palatable and interesting.
Either way, I pursued it and was rewarded with an intriguing story which unraveled little by little. We come to learn that the artist had an intimate relationship with the model, William an art critic. He felt he had been wronged by him and placed himself on self imposed exile. The time had now arrived to settle the score. ( )