BOOK REVIEW: The Portrait by Iain Pears

The Portrait by Iain Pears is a voice-driven, slow-build thriller. Or horror story. It reminded me of something Edgar Allan Poe might write.

In the early 1900s, William Nasmyth, a critic who rules the London art world, invites himself to visit an old friend, Scottish artist Henry Morris MacAlpine, to have his portrait painted. MacAlpine is living in self-imposed exile on a tiny, remote island off the coast of northern France.

The story is told by the artist as a monologue spoken to the critic. MacAlpine likes to talk while he paints but prefers his subjects remain still. The history of their friendship unfolds, exposing the true natures of both critic and artist. While at first confiding and slightly jocular, the digs MacAlpine makes grow increasingly pointed. And disturbing. At the same time, the weather slowly turns violent so that, at least for the time being, the critic is trapped on the island.

The truth of the situation dawns on reader and Nasmyth alike, bringing the book to a chilling, satisfying conclusion.