Caroline, the novel's protagonist, is living in her recently deceased art historian father's apartment, visiting a dying friend in the hospital, and writing a novel about a composer father leaving his wife and two daughters for a younger woman. Interspersed are New York Times star maps, paintings, and musings about the life of Jesus.

The Art Lover teeters on the edge of preciousness - the characters and emotion are real and present, but a novel about people seeing the world through art about artists risks being detached. On my second reading, now that I understand more of the references to independent films, classical music and gourmet food, it seems even more so. It's almost as if the two most important elements of the novel - a late 20th century conception of an artistic life, and grief - are warring with each other over connection with the reader.

I was very young in the '80s, but the pre-cocktail AIDS epidemic is very evocative. I think I might even remember the magazine covers Maso describes.

As a side note, the reviewer quoted on the back of the book as saying that "Maso breaks the fictive form" should be drawn and quartered. ( )