Books like Permanent Red — picked by fans

It was only on a second attempt at reading it that I really appreciated this complex and wonderful book. Opening with the description of the murder of a manuscript gilder in sixteenth-century Istanbul, this book functions at one level as a captivating mystery. It is, of course, much more than that.

Made up of first-person narratives, I loved how animals and even inanimate objects are given their own voices. In one chapter, a counterfeit gold coin reflects on the intimate (and stomach-churning) ways such precious items interact with the human body. In what other novel can you find the drawing of a tree offering reflections about whether art should represent the outer forms or inner meanings of the natural world?

This book is one of my favorite novels, featuring unforgettable descriptive passages. Its plot is simple, focused on the experiences of an art conservator traumatized by his experiences in World War I. During his brief stay in the Yorkshire village of Oxgodby, an ancient church is both his workplace and home.

The building becomes a potent, if mute, character in the story. The evocations of rural life are beautiful, though I was captivated by the gradual uncovering of the medieval fresco depicting the Last Judgement. These slow revelations seem to mirror the central character’s search for meaning as he rebuilds his own life. I have returned to this moving, poetic work again and again.

The themes of regret and the unstable nature of memory stayed with me long after I had finished the book. A renowned expert on the Arabian Nights, Irwin weaves stories within stories, leaving the reader unsure about what is real and what is the product of a character’s imagination.

The unreliable narrator is a mildly successful but ultimately second-rate twentieth-century British painter who refers to a creative practice employed by the surrealists. The book took me on a wonderful journey through the artistic culture of London. Edith Sitwell, Salvador Dalí, and André Breton are just a few of the famous names who populate this surprising story. 

Packed with funny, unexpected, and disturbing imagery, I read this book in one sitting. Art historians have discussed the agency possessed by material things, arguing that art and other manufactured objects can shape the actions and attitudes of individuals and groups. This has led to the creation of biographies of ancient objects, tracking their movements and transformations over time.

Fischer takes this one step further in his picaresque novel, told from the perspective of an ancient Sumerian bowl. As the title suggests, the bowl surreptitiously observes and records the lives of the collectors who have owned it over the course of millennia. I haven’t looked at old pots in my house in the same way again! 

How do creative people produce their best work? That’s the question Galenson researched as an economics professor leading to this book comparing the two major creative approaches he’s identified: Do they create by just getting started and through incremental efforts and continuous testing they feel their way until they discover what they will create? Or do they begin with careful and comprehensive plans of what they will create, beginning only when they are confident they have a full vision of what the end looks like? He studied artists—painters and poets, novelists and sculptors—but the questions he asks and the answers he frames are relevant to all creatively entrepreneurial work and he shares his thoughts about that as well. I love Cezanne’s paintings and was delighted to learn my creative process is similar to his. 

The author of The Killing Art is an artist himself and therefore writes from an insider perspective. The location is New York City and the art movement is the New York School of Art or Abstract Expressionism, which included the artists Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, and Mark Rothko. The main protagonist is Kate McKinnon, an art historian and former cop, who sets out to write a book about these artists, but is pulled back into solving crimes as the paintings she writes about— and their owners—are slashed. I like the female protagonist in this book as well as the more contemporary setting and art.   

This book is a great choice for anyone looking to dive deeper into the creative process and find inspiration for their own artistic journey. The book, written by the well-known art critic and historian Jerry Saltz, offers practical advice and thought-provoking insights into the nature of art and the role of the artist in society. One of the key themes in the book is the idea that every piece of art you create has the potential to make an impact, no matter how big or small, and that it is your responsibility as an artist to keep creating, even if your work may not always be perfect. Overall, this book is a must-read for anyone looking to deepen their understanding of the creative process and find the motivation to keep pursuing their passions.

The husband-and-wife author team kept me guessing which of the victim’s enemies decided to do him in. I found the Alix London character appealingly complex, with a good backstory as an intuitive art restorer and the daughter of a convicted art forger.

I especially enjoyed her take on a Jackson Pollock painting that she doesn’t like, not only because it’s not her taste but also because her sixth sense tells her it’s bogus. This aspect of the story, though not the main focus, is based on the Knoedler scandal, a real case of fakes being passed off by a respected New York City gallery, about which I have first-hand knowledge.

Filled with many humorous pages of ridicule about the modern art world, one big reason that I love this book is Wolfe’s attack on “art speak,” the nauseating language used by critics and artists alike. He smugly suggests that in today’s world, visual art only exists to illustrate the text!

Pretentious prose has become a norm in art world communication. Although artists vehemently criticize this style of writing, unfortunately, many believe that their work will not be taken seriously unless they imitate what they despise.

This book, about the CIA’s secret funding of art and culture in the Cold War battle for hearts and minds, caused a big stir on its publication in 2000. Written by a young British researcher, it scathingly criticized the Agency’s cultural operations (a source of some pride among intelligence veterans), arguing that they compromised and undermined the very artistic values they were supposed to defend. Several writers on the same subject since, myself included, have argued with aspects of her work, but Saunders’ research and storytelling are second to none. A harsh but hugely informative and entertaining account of one of the most intriguing chapters in the history of the Cold War.