Books like The Colour Storm

Artemisia Gentileschi was a 17th-century Italian Baroque painter. One of the most fascinating and progressive artists of her time, she was also the first woman ever accepted into the prestigious Accademia di Arte del Disegno in Florence. Her personal life was riddled with turmoil—from rape to torture and public humiliation, but she endured it all to pursue her passion for painting. Many artists sacrifice for their art, but this woman took on an entire city and the Inquisition, and still went on to paint what are considered some of the most brilliant paintings of all time. For me, she is the quintessential feisty female protagonist, beating the odds and the establishment and standing tall. 

I only read this book after watching The American, the movie (starring George Clooney) that was based on this book. And although I loved the movie, the book was even better. I love to travel, especially to Italy, and reading the book is the next best thing to going there.

The prose is elegant, bordering on poetic, and there is an underlying psychological tension that kept my stomach acid bubbling. And being a genre-bending kind of writer, I love to read books that bend genres. This is a thriller, yes, but it also reads like a memoir or literary fiction. Try it.

In this wondrous book on Caravaggio, the world of Naples unfolds from the inside through an electrifying reading experience. Written with grace, almost every sentence imparts an epiphany. The author challenges us to undertake soul-work, even if one is a secular reader. Reading becomes an act of empathy and passion. In the words of Wallace Stevens, potential readers will become ‘necessary angels’.

Here’s another magical adventure that has such potential to be a series. Set in a Venice that is full of actual magic this book will appeal to the Harry Potter lovers in your life. Aribella must use her newly found magic to save the city from a grim future at the hands of the villain Zio. Although a fantastical Venice there are plenty of true-to-life details like the Lion’s Mouth, gondolas, and a ruling doge. I really loved the twists at the end. Middle grade readers will be captivated. 

Going to the Vancouver Art Gallery when I was a kid I saw my first Emily Carr painting and it drew me in with its dark beauty.

This book brings to life the story of Emily Carr, a talented painter and (although the word wouldn't have been used then) ecologist. She passionately pursued her art in ways proper young ladies of the time just didn't do. She revered the First Nations people and their cultures. The gift was returned when she received her own honourary name, Klee Wyck (Laughing One) from the Nuu-chah-nulth (Nootka) people.

I love this book because of its honesty, it is about a person and a place, firmly rooted in a love of nature.

The brand of possession is fairly standard: a Drakhaoul possesses a man, enabling him to transform into a dragon—but the man must replenish his strength vampirically.

I like the interplay of personal responsibility and victimization, the use of supernatural powers to protect one’s friends at the cost of innocent suffering.

The Drakhaoul has a name and personality; it’s definitely a discrete being, but it’s also a part of the hero. But then the hero successfully exorcises his demon. But the demon’s memories are left behind, and the hero starts to wonder if he’s going mad.

The demon’s absence, not its presence, drives the hero to madness and despair (even though he hates the demon). The hero simultaneously hates and longs for a dark power, which is and is not uniquely his.

Now something of a classic and an award-winning film, Herrera’s biography of the artist Frida Kahlo appealed to me for its rich personal detail and evocative descriptions of early 20th-century Mexico.

Her interpretations of the paintings are engrossing. By peppering these throughout the book, Herrera really helped me understand the significance of each work and its place in Frida’s life story, which is one of passion and pain.

I know some people find copious letters in a biography tedious, but I welcome this. Letters are such a gift to a biographer. As a reader, I found they really helped me get inside the head of this intense, sensual, and resilient woman. This, in turn, made her pictures come alive. This biography really opens up Frida’s world. I couldn’t help getting drawn in. 

Macneal is a go-to for me when it comes to grim reads set in the Victorian era. I found her writing so superb and her grasp of Victorian London and the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood so enthralling, it was hard for me to believe The Doll Factory was her debut.

The book is about art and collecting, but the obsession of the book’s villain is what makes this beating heart of a story thrum.

Letters to Gwen John is the artist’s mixture of memoir and fictional letters to Gwen John the artist.

Once a partner of the much older artist Lucian Freud, Paul’s life resembles Gwen’s love for the older French sculptor Auguste Rodin. Paul’s fictional letters provide moving insights into Paul’s life, Gwen’s life, and the role of art.

Uncannily Paul’s letters resemble Gwen’s to Rodin in their shared simplicity and devotion to art.

I just wish Paul’s book had been published before I wrote my book because Paul has so many insights into art techniques. 2023 is definitely Gwen’s year with the opening of the major exhibition of Gwen’s work at Pallant House Gallery, UK.

This noir pastiche is one long joke, a satire on art, art criticism, and art collecting.

James Figueras, a cad bachelor freelance art critic in 1960s Palm Beach, is tasked with stealing a painting by the (fictional) French artist Jacques Deberiue.

Deberiue was the founder of the Nihilistic Surrealism movement who retired after the creation of one work, No. One: an empty frame mounted around a crack in a wall. The trail leads to the dusty outskirts of Miami and a bloody murder in the Everglades, but the real mystery surrounds the artist and his art.

And the fun is in the comedy: "The fact that he used the English No. One instead of Nombre une may or may not've influenced Samuel Beckett to write in French instead of English, as the literary critic Leon Mindlin has claimed."