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So Much Blue
A new high point for a master novelist, an emotionally charged reckoning with art, marriage, and the past
Kevin Pace is working on a painting that he won’t allow anyone to see: not his children; not his best friend, Richard; not even his wife, Linda. The painting is a canvas of twelve feet by twenty-one feet (and three inches) that is covered entirely in shades of blue. It may be his masterpiece or it may not; he doesn’t know or, more accurately, doesn’t care.
What Kevin does care about are the events of the past. Ten years ago he had an affair with a young watercolorist in Paris. Kevin relates this event with a dispassionate air, even a bit of puzzlement. It’s not clear to him why he had the affair, but he can’t let it go. In the more distant past of the late seventies, Kevin and Richard traveled to El Salvador on the verge of war to retrieve Richard’s drug-dealing brother, who had gone missing without explanation. As the events of the past intersect with the present, Kevin struggles to justify the sacrifices he’s made for his art and the secrets he’s kept from his wife.
So Much Blue features Percival Everett at his best, and his deadpan humor and insightful commentary about the artistic life culminate in a brilliantly readable new novel.
Kevin Pace is working on a painting that he won’t allow anyone to see: not his children; not his best friend, Richard; not even his wife, Linda. The painting is a canvas of twelve feet by twenty-one feet (and three inches) that is covered entirely in shades of blue. It may be his masterpiece or it may not; he doesn’t know or, more accurately, doesn’t care.
What Kevin does care about are the events of the past. Ten years ago he had an affair with a young watercolorist in Paris. Kevin relates this event with a dispassionate air, even a bit of puzzlement. It’s not clear to him why he had the affair, but he can’t let it go. In the more distant past of the late seventies, Kevin and Richard traveled to El Salvador on the verge of war to retrieve Richard’s drug-dealing brother, who had gone missing without explanation. As the events of the past intersect with the present, Kevin struggles to justify the sacrifices he’s made for his art and the secrets he’s kept from his wife.
So Much Blue features Percival Everett at his best, and his deadpan humor and insightful commentary about the artistic life culminate in a brilliantly readable new novel.
236 pages, Paperback
First published June 13, 2017
308 people are currently reading
7543 people want to read
About the author
Percival Everett
69 books8,423 followersPercival L. Everett (born 1956) is an American writer and Distinguished Professor of English at the University of Southern California.
There might not be a more fertile mind in American fiction today than Everett’s. In 22 years, he has written 19 books, including a farcical Western, a savage satire of the publishing industry, a children’s story spoofing counting books, retellings of the Greek myths of Medea and Dionysus, and a philosophical tract narrated by a four-year-old.
The Washington Post has called Everett “one of the most adventurously experimental of modern American novelists.” And according to The Boston Globe, “He’s literature’s NASCAR champion, going flat out, narrowly avoiding one seemingly inevitable crash only to steer straight for the next.”
Everett, who teaches courses in creative writing, American studies and critical theory, says he writes about what interests him, which explains his prolific output and the range of subjects he has tackled. He also describes himself as a demanding teacher who learns from his students as much as they learn from him.
Everett’s writing has earned him the PEN USA 2006 Literary Award (for his 2005 novel, Wounded), the Academy Award for Literature of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award (for his 2001 novel, Erasure), the PEN/Oakland-Josephine Miles Award for Excellence in Literature (for his 1996 story collection, Big Picture) and the New American Writing Award (for his 1990 novel, Zulus). He has served as a judge for, among others, the 1997 National Book Award for fiction and the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction in 1991.
There might not be a more fertile mind in American fiction today than Everett’s. In 22 years, he has written 19 books, including a farcical Western, a savage satire of the publishing industry, a children’s story spoofing counting books, retellings of the Greek myths of Medea and Dionysus, and a philosophical tract narrated by a four-year-old.
The Washington Post has called Everett “one of the most adventurously experimental of modern American novelists.” And according to The Boston Globe, “He’s literature’s NASCAR champion, going flat out, narrowly avoiding one seemingly inevitable crash only to steer straight for the next.”
Everett, who teaches courses in creative writing, American studies and critical theory, says he writes about what interests him, which explains his prolific output and the range of subjects he has tackled. He also describes himself as a demanding teacher who learns from his students as much as they learn from him.
Everett’s writing has earned him the PEN USA 2006 Literary Award (for his 2005 novel, Wounded), the Academy Award for Literature of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award (for his 2001 novel, Erasure), the PEN/Oakland-Josephine Miles Award for Excellence in Literature (for his 1996 story collection, Big Picture) and the New American Writing Award (for his 1990 novel, Zulus). He has served as a judge for, among others, the 1997 National Book Award for fiction and the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction in 1991.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 666 reviews
December 30, 2017
4.5 stars, rounded up.
While I'm not one of those people who believes every painting needs to have meaning, on more than one occasion I've looked at an abstract piece and wondered just what the artist was striving for. Sometimes a painting strikes me initially as simply a jumble of colors or shapes or objects, but after looking at it a few times, suddenly everything clicks into place and makes sense.
That's how I felt about So Much Blue by Percival Everett. I'd seen some tremendously positive reviews of the book, and it has been included on more than a few year-end best lists. Initially, I wondered how (and if) the seemingly disparate pieces of the narrative would come together and what it all meant, but when they did, I was utterly wowed by the book as a whole.
Kevin Pace is a somewhat-misanthropic painter of some renown. His success certainly has made his family's life more comfortable, but he doesn't seem fazed either way. He is currently working on a major piece—a canvas of twelve feet by twenty-one feet (and three inches) that is covered entirely in shades of blue. He won't show it to anyone, not his wife, his children, or his best friend, Richard. This painting might be a masterpiece or it might garner no response, and he doesn't really care.
"To say that a painting is like a story is a pedestrian utterance, not altogether untrue, but uninspired, though that hardly stops people from making such invidious and unwarranted comparisons. The painting that was my life was static, hardly a story at all, moving but with no moving parts, changing but without alteration."
Kevin's life is characterized by secrets. Ten years ago, while he was in Paris working with a gallery owner selling his work, Kevin had an affair with a young watercolor painter. He wasn't looking for an affair and didn't allow himself any delusions it would continue or shake up his life, but the relationship touched him more than he imagined. But he never told his wife about the affair, although she knows something occurred while he was in Paris.
In 1979, while they were in college, Kevin and Richard headed to El Salvador, as the country was on the cusp of war, to find Richard's brother Tad, who apparently disappeared down there. The two have no idea what they're getting themselves into, and engage the services of The Bummer, an American war criminal, to try and find Tad and bring him home. What they encounter, and the situation Kevin finds himself in, has never left Kevin's mind. It caused him to become an alcoholic for a number of years, and this, too, has always been a source of distance between him and his wife, since he's never shared what happened down there.
"The real sadness was that I drifted away from my wife and children because of alcohol, but instead of finding the current back to them when I ceased, I camped out on an uncharted island in the middle of myself."
When Kevin's teenage daughter asks him to keep a secret of her own, he finally realizes the cost of secrets, the cost of keeping those he cares about at arm's length for so long. He also thinks about the sacrifices he has made for his art, whether those sacrifices changed him in any way, and whether a painting should take such precedence in his life.
"The fact that it was secret served its secrets, my secrets, and suddenly I understood at least one rather simple and perhaps obvious forehead-flattening truth, that a secret can exist only if its revelation, discovery, even betrayal is possible."
It takes a little while for the separate story threads to weave themselves together into something cohesive, but when it does, this is a powerful meditation on the lengths we go to protect ourselves, even at the expense of those we love. Everett provides cogent commentary on the artist and the artistic process, and also shows how one secret can beget others.
Kevin is a difficult character to like at times, but once you understand the weight he has been carrying, his detachment makes far more sense. Everett tells a beautiful story, one with flashes of humor and sensitivity. I think I'll carry Kevin in my mind for a while now that I've finished this book.
Much like a painting or other work of art, So Much Blue may not hit everyone the same way, but for me, this was so worth the journey.
See all of my reviews at http://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blo....
While I'm not one of those people who believes every painting needs to have meaning, on more than one occasion I've looked at an abstract piece and wondered just what the artist was striving for. Sometimes a painting strikes me initially as simply a jumble of colors or shapes or objects, but after looking at it a few times, suddenly everything clicks into place and makes sense.
That's how I felt about So Much Blue by Percival Everett. I'd seen some tremendously positive reviews of the book, and it has been included on more than a few year-end best lists. Initially, I wondered how (and if) the seemingly disparate pieces of the narrative would come together and what it all meant, but when they did, I was utterly wowed by the book as a whole.
Kevin Pace is a somewhat-misanthropic painter of some renown. His success certainly has made his family's life more comfortable, but he doesn't seem fazed either way. He is currently working on a major piece—a canvas of twelve feet by twenty-one feet (and three inches) that is covered entirely in shades of blue. He won't show it to anyone, not his wife, his children, or his best friend, Richard. This painting might be a masterpiece or it might garner no response, and he doesn't really care.
"To say that a painting is like a story is a pedestrian utterance, not altogether untrue, but uninspired, though that hardly stops people from making such invidious and unwarranted comparisons. The painting that was my life was static, hardly a story at all, moving but with no moving parts, changing but without alteration."
Kevin's life is characterized by secrets. Ten years ago, while he was in Paris working with a gallery owner selling his work, Kevin had an affair with a young watercolor painter. He wasn't looking for an affair and didn't allow himself any delusions it would continue or shake up his life, but the relationship touched him more than he imagined. But he never told his wife about the affair, although she knows something occurred while he was in Paris.
In 1979, while they were in college, Kevin and Richard headed to El Salvador, as the country was on the cusp of war, to find Richard's brother Tad, who apparently disappeared down there. The two have no idea what they're getting themselves into, and engage the services of The Bummer, an American war criminal, to try and find Tad and bring him home. What they encounter, and the situation Kevin finds himself in, has never left Kevin's mind. It caused him to become an alcoholic for a number of years, and this, too, has always been a source of distance between him and his wife, since he's never shared what happened down there.
"The real sadness was that I drifted away from my wife and children because of alcohol, but instead of finding the current back to them when I ceased, I camped out on an uncharted island in the middle of myself."
When Kevin's teenage daughter asks him to keep a secret of her own, he finally realizes the cost of secrets, the cost of keeping those he cares about at arm's length for so long. He also thinks about the sacrifices he has made for his art, whether those sacrifices changed him in any way, and whether a painting should take such precedence in his life.
"The fact that it was secret served its secrets, my secrets, and suddenly I understood at least one rather simple and perhaps obvious forehead-flattening truth, that a secret can exist only if its revelation, discovery, even betrayal is possible."
It takes a little while for the separate story threads to weave themselves together into something cohesive, but when it does, this is a powerful meditation on the lengths we go to protect ourselves, even at the expense of those we love. Everett provides cogent commentary on the artist and the artistic process, and also shows how one secret can beget others.
Kevin is a difficult character to like at times, but once you understand the weight he has been carrying, his detachment makes far more sense. Everett tells a beautiful story, one with flashes of humor and sensitivity. I think I'll carry Kevin in my mind for a while now that I've finished this book.
Much like a painting or other work of art, So Much Blue may not hit everyone the same way, but for me, this was so worth the journey.
See all of my reviews at http://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blo....
October 22, 2017
When I finished the last page of this gorgeous novel, I held the paperback against my heart, rocked, cried, and moaned, "Oh." That's about all you need to know.
February 1, 2018
Percival Everett blows the doors off with this beautifully constructed novel that holds secrets and mysteries in each of its three stories centered about Kevin, a fifty-something abstract painter living in New England with his wife and two children. I do wonder about Everett, who so gradually has become one of America’s most reliably exciting and unique novelists that his anonymity lasted long enough for him to enjoy some walking-around time without celebrity recognition. That’s probably well over now, especially if this novel gets the attention it deserves.
The work is studded with recognizable truths in the way of great literature but the writing is plain enough that we spot these easily, following his trail eagerly. Describing the way his children looked at him when he was drinking regularly and too much:
Everett does this to us regularly: holds up our experience, or maybe his own, for us to acknowledge. He is always surprising and exact yet comfortable and intimate with us. Sometimes his sentences remind me of the clipped noir of Raymond Chandler or the deeply funny yet seriocomic social commentary of Joe Lansdale. But Everett is unique. He has released an enormously assured work of fiction that deserves much more attention than it has garnered so far.
The novel's three strands, each thread on a different continent, are widely spaced in time yet carefully braided into one narrative so that no one strand seems dominant nor gets lost as the other stories unfold. The interleaving is so well done it is a model for writers. The only overlap in all the stories is the main character, Kevin Pace; married, living in Rhode Island, two children, a painter.
Blue, the color blue, cerulean, cobalt, “the color of trust, loyalty,” ultramarine, blue leaning to green, Guillet green, emerald green. Kevin saw one painting done by the young French watercolorist which was outside her usual style, all done in blues and green running into blue, with a splash of blood red in one corner; it made him cry. Blue was a color he could not control, and it reminded him of something, a secret.
This novel is about secrets, and upheaval, and finding a safe place, and the how paint can reveal truths we cannot speak. Everett is a painter besides being an author, and in 2010 he collaborated with the novelist Chris Abani to produce a journal of Abani’s poetry and Everett’s paintings.
Almost every novel by Everett is different than the one preceding it, making it seem as though he were reveling in the breadth of the form, trying out methods, working a style. One has the sense of an oeuvre not unlike a fiction chapbook which showcases many forms of popular fiction but which is infused with a self-conscious humor, even parody, always within the realm of literature. It is American literature at core, worthy of study for the pieces Everett chooses to highlight. That standing outside the form is almost missing in this novel, but Everett is sly.
This novel comes after thirty or more earlier works, and seems to bring all that earlier writing to glorious fruition. It’s a beautiful novel, full of energy, movement, truth, and color. So much blue.
The work is studded with recognizable truths in the way of great literature but the writing is plain enough that we spot these easily, following his trail eagerly. Describing the way his children looked at him when he was drinking regularly and too much:
“No, I never flew into rages or stumbled late and noisily into dance recitals or yelled a little too loud and made inappropriate comments at soccer games, but I became acutely aware that I wore a sickly-sweet late evening cologne and I noticed how my children looked at my eyes, holding them for too long and looking away too quickly.”There is a paragraph less than fifty pages in which describes what happens in Paris when Kevin is visiting a museum on a day his wife is traveling and happens upon a young woman, a watercolorist, who recognizes him and invites him somewhere they can talk comfortably.
“Very close of course was Victoire’s flat. She was, after all, a watercolorist and her apartment was full of them. Thankfully they were not portraits of cows, but there was a preponderance of empty parks and stark river scenes. There was a large window that overlooked a garden. In the middle of the garden was a broken birdbath and I felt a little guilty when I realized I was paying more attention to it than to the many works of art. I turned my attention to her work and found them well done, but ordinary.”This paragraph with all its conflicted feelings describes a true thing; I know this because it happened to me. I can’t remember now if I was the young woman or the older man. Perhaps I was the younger woman with the eyes of an older man.
Everett does this to us regularly: holds up our experience, or maybe his own, for us to acknowledge. He is always surprising and exact yet comfortable and intimate with us. Sometimes his sentences remind me of the clipped noir of Raymond Chandler or the deeply funny yet seriocomic social commentary of Joe Lansdale. But Everett is unique. He has released an enormously assured work of fiction that deserves much more attention than it has garnered so far.
The novel's three strands, each thread on a different continent, are widely spaced in time yet carefully braided into one narrative so that no one strand seems dominant nor gets lost as the other stories unfold. The interleaving is so well done it is a model for writers. The only overlap in all the stories is the main character, Kevin Pace; married, living in Rhode Island, two children, a painter.
Blue, the color blue, cerulean, cobalt, “the color of trust, loyalty,” ultramarine, blue leaning to green, Guillet green, emerald green. Kevin saw one painting done by the young French watercolorist which was outside her usual style, all done in blues and green running into blue, with a splash of blood red in one corner; it made him cry. Blue was a color he could not control, and it reminded him of something, a secret.
This novel is about secrets, and upheaval, and finding a safe place, and the how paint can reveal truths we cannot speak. Everett is a painter besides being an author, and in 2010 he collaborated with the novelist Chris Abani to produce a journal of Abani’s poetry and Everett’s paintings.
Almost every novel by Everett is different than the one preceding it, making it seem as though he were reveling in the breadth of the form, trying out methods, working a style. One has the sense of an oeuvre not unlike a fiction chapbook which showcases many forms of popular fiction but which is infused with a self-conscious humor, even parody, always within the realm of literature. It is American literature at core, worthy of study for the pieces Everett chooses to highlight. That standing outside the form is almost missing in this novel, but Everett is sly.
This novel comes after thirty or more earlier works, and seems to bring all that earlier writing to glorious fruition. It’s a beautiful novel, full of energy, movement, truth, and color. So much blue.
November 8, 2022
Library overdrive Audiobook….read by Patrick Lawlor
…..7 hours and 44 minutes
Oh my…. I didn’t have a clue of what to expect about this book.
The immediate words that first came to me were, “oh my, well that was a trip!!!
The humor is stellar. The situations morally questionable, but boy were they engrossing!!
Three stories are interwoven together in three different time periods….. it worked effortlessly for me with the audiobook format.
Kevin Pace, our artist - painter - protagonist, travels to El Salvador (during times of war), in the story *1979*.
In *House* is where he finds a family painting. In *Paris* he meets a young artist by the name of Victoire.
For me this book incredibly unique and delightful. It highlights the human conditions — experiences we each have. (Artists, writers, scholars, and the rest of us)….
Not wanting to give spoilers and yet not knowing exactly how to describe this book I leave you with this quote that speaks to me of what this book has to offer:
“If we don’t face the consequences of our unconscious motivation—through a practice of discipline that opens us to the
unconscious — then that motivation will secretly influence our decisions all through our lives”.
——Thomas Keating
…..7 hours and 44 minutes
Oh my…. I didn’t have a clue of what to expect about this book.
The immediate words that first came to me were, “oh my, well that was a trip!!!
The humor is stellar. The situations morally questionable, but boy were they engrossing!!
Three stories are interwoven together in three different time periods….. it worked effortlessly for me with the audiobook format.
Kevin Pace, our artist - painter - protagonist, travels to El Salvador (during times of war), in the story *1979*.
In *House* is where he finds a family painting. In *Paris* he meets a young artist by the name of Victoire.
For me this book incredibly unique and delightful. It highlights the human conditions — experiences we each have. (Artists, writers, scholars, and the rest of us)….
Not wanting to give spoilers and yet not knowing exactly how to describe this book I leave you with this quote that speaks to me of what this book has to offer:
“If we don’t face the consequences of our unconscious motivation—through a practice of discipline that opens us to the
unconscious — then that motivation will secretly influence our decisions all through our lives”.
——Thomas Keating
June 10, 2021
****4.5 Stars****
Kevin Pace, the narrator in this story, is a middle-aged painter, a married man with two children and more than a few secrets. The format is written in short chapters with three alternating headings spanning several decades: “House” for the present time; “Paris” approximately 10 years earlier, a time when Kevin had a brief affair with a much younger woman; and “1979” when he set off for the jungles of war-torn San Salvador in search of a friend’s brother.
I am often impatient with rotating story lines. This novel was an exception because each section was equally interesting, short, and the timeframes weave together smoothly. The structure never diminished my enjoyment of this story. Altogether, they reveal the power and destructive nature of Kevin Pace’s many secrets, and their impact on his artistic career, his marriage, and his family.
This novel is beautifully written…even funny at times…and thought-provoking. Recommended.
Kevin Pace, the narrator in this story, is a middle-aged painter, a married man with two children and more than a few secrets. The format is written in short chapters with three alternating headings spanning several decades: “House” for the present time; “Paris” approximately 10 years earlier, a time when Kevin had a brief affair with a much younger woman; and “1979” when he set off for the jungles of war-torn San Salvador in search of a friend’s brother.
I am often impatient with rotating story lines. This novel was an exception because each section was equally interesting, short, and the timeframes weave together smoothly. The structure never diminished my enjoyment of this story. Altogether, they reveal the power and destructive nature of Kevin Pace’s many secrets, and their impact on his artistic career, his marriage, and his family.
This novel is beautifully written…even funny at times…and thought-provoking. Recommended.
January 15, 2018
Shortlisted for the Tournament of Books 2018!
“I had come to love the power of secrets and saw every painting as a secret waiting to be revealed.”
Kevin Pace is a husband, father and painter. He is also a man with secrets. An alcoholic who doesn’t always make the right decisions, some might consider him a hot mess. And he is. But he is an endearing character because he is introspective, willing to admit his mistakes. So Much Blue shifts back and forth between three different time periods: Present day, 10 years ago in Paris and 1979 El Salvador with each of these holding its own secret.
1979 – Kevin’s best friend’s brother Tad has disappeared. His family suspects that he is in El Salvador and that as usual he has found himself in trouble. So Richard hatches a plan to rescue him and Kevin, against his better judgement joins him. Soliciting the help of an admitted war criminal the duo find themselves in the midst of a civil war.
Paris – Kevin travels to Europe for an installation of his artwork. He sees his wife Linda on the plane back home to their two small children while he carries out an affair with a French water colorist half his age. Here is one place where Everett’s writing shines. For this storyline does not read like a man in the throes of middle age crisis nor does Kevin come off as shallow as one would expect a man who has just betrayed his wife. “It really wasn’t that I wanted her, but that I wanted what she had, a kind of freedom, a purity of spirit. It was a sort of integrity, something that I strived for but lost through so many years, maybe never had.”
“The real sadness was that I drifted away from my wife and children because of alcohol, but instead of finding the current back to them when I ceased, I camped out on an uncharted island in the middle of myself.”
Home – Gone is the alcohol from Kevin’s life but he is no closer to his family. Instead he spends most of his time holed up in a shed with a painting that he doesn’t allow anyone to see. Ironically it is a secret that he keeps for his teenage daughter that forces him to recognize the damage that may ensue. As he comes to terms with the power of secrets he reconciles with his past. In the end the reader can hope that he has become the family man that he has yearned to be.
I feel almost ashamed to say that this was my first time reading Percival Everett. So Much Blue was such an enjoyable read.
April 16, 2025
So Much Blue is comprised of three scenarios - a trip to the chaos of El Salvador in 1979, searching for a good friend's brother; Paris some 25 years later, where the narrator is having an affair with a woman 25 years younger than he; and scenes which occur within the narrator's family in New England.
Each of these scenarios is serious and intense in its own way, each contains secrets, and the fact that Mr. Everett is able to create those intensities and sustain them is proof once again that he is a masterful writer.
While reading, I had the thought that if So Much Blue were a film, a very different soundtrack would be needed for each segment. And what a amazing set of soundtracks they could be.
"My father contended that common sense has nothing to do with good sense. just as common fashion has nothing to do with taste. One might have the common sense necessary to see a painting as a waste or abuse of pigments, linseed oil, and linen, but not have the good sense to buy it. It was clear to me as I packed a bag that I was practicing neither."
Each of these scenarios is serious and intense in its own way, each contains secrets, and the fact that Mr. Everett is able to create those intensities and sustain them is proof once again that he is a masterful writer.
While reading, I had the thought that if So Much Blue were a film, a very different soundtrack would be needed for each segment. And what a amazing set of soundtracks they could be.
"My father contended that common sense has nothing to do with good sense. just as common fashion has nothing to do with taste. One might have the common sense necessary to see a painting as a waste or abuse of pigments, linseed oil, and linen, but not have the good sense to buy it. It was clear to me as I packed a bag that I was practicing neither."
January 30, 2019
Every other Everett novel has been a 5 star memorably great read for me, but this one was a miss. The narrator struck me as self-indulgent rather than sincere.
The novel is written as an interwoven story of three time frames in the narrator's life, titled "Paris," "House," and "1979."
I flat-out disliked the "Paris" chapters. I had a general cranky attitude about the story of this man skanking about with a much younger woman behind his wife's back--perhaps it's a sign of current events that I couldn't just be ok with that story line and it didn't seem to offer any new insights about extramarital relationships. It seemed cliche'.
I also thought the "House" sections were a little too standard with the portrayal of parent vs. teenager dynamics being quite average even if Everett is an excellent prose stylist. Not Everett's best.
I liked the "1979" chapters best, but they read more like chapters of a T.C. Boyle novel than an Everett novel. Boyle is a terrific writer, but in his stories everything gets sewn up too neatly for my tastes. That's how the "1979" story line felt to me. Everything got resolved very neatly, rather than getting resolved profoundly...and "profoundly" is the level of storytelling I've come to expect from Everett.
So however readable the story fell well below the terrific standard I've come to expect from this author.
The novel is written as an interwoven story of three time frames in the narrator's life, titled "Paris," "House," and "1979."
I flat-out disliked the "Paris" chapters. I had a general cranky attitude about the story of this man skanking about with a much younger woman behind his wife's back--perhaps it's a sign of current events that I couldn't just be ok with that story line and it didn't seem to offer any new insights about extramarital relationships. It seemed cliche'.
I also thought the "House" sections were a little too standard with the portrayal of parent vs. teenager dynamics being quite average even if Everett is an excellent prose stylist. Not Everett's best.
I liked the "1979" chapters best, but they read more like chapters of a T.C. Boyle novel than an Everett novel. Boyle is a terrific writer, but in his stories everything gets sewn up too neatly for my tastes. That's how the "1979" story line felt to me. Everything got resolved very neatly, rather than getting resolved profoundly...and "profoundly" is the level of storytelling I've come to expect from Everett.
So however readable the story fell well below the terrific standard I've come to expect from this author.
January 24, 2018
Something about this cover said jazz, cocktails, and mysterious woman in dimly lit club . I knew there was an extra-marital affair between a water-colourist and an older married man so I was getting ready for some good doomed love affair reading. It all seemed very promising.
Unfortunately, I am going to declare I found this all rather bland and ponderous.
Chapters alternate between three events in the narrators life, a trip in his twenties to El Salvador, a moment in Paris when he has an affair and a domestic drama some 10 years later. It sounds like it should work only it really doesn't, at least not for me. I thought it read like a kind of pastiche of three different types of novels. None of the strands particularly held my attention, I did think the shenanigans in El Salvador had promise but it quickly devolved into a journey with very little purpose. Most characters seemed terribly thin and their motivations hard to parse.
Why for example does this a 20-something artist fall immediately in love with this fairly indifferent older man.? Why is she always described as bouncing along ? That annoyed me, like all young woman in Paris are beautiful and creative and bounce along on feet with some kind of inbuilt springs. How can a watercolour painting be so arousing ? These are but some of the mysteries of this novel.
In general this was a straight-forward book to read and certainly it has moments of interesting writing but it does slip into a kind pseudo-intellectual babble that is fitting given the main character is an Artist but it was often quite tedious ...
Plato would have me believe that my painting was an imitation of something. In fact my perceptions of the concrete things were tenebrous representations of some ideal. So I, the painter was imitating an imitation, making a simulacrum of a simulacrum. Fuck Plato, I thought, the painting in front of me was not an imitation, not a representation, but the concrete ideal. My perception of it might have been a representation, but the painting, well, it was the painting.
Thank goodness we got that ironed out.
Probably the weakest of the books I have read for this years Tournament of Books but at least it was short !
Unfortunately, I am going to declare I found this all rather bland and ponderous.
Chapters alternate between three events in the narrators life, a trip in his twenties to El Salvador, a moment in Paris when he has an affair and a domestic drama some 10 years later. It sounds like it should work only it really doesn't, at least not for me. I thought it read like a kind of pastiche of three different types of novels. None of the strands particularly held my attention, I did think the shenanigans in El Salvador had promise but it quickly devolved into a journey with very little purpose. Most characters seemed terribly thin and their motivations hard to parse.
Why for example does this a 20-something artist fall immediately in love with this fairly indifferent older man.? Why is she always described as bouncing along ? That annoyed me, like all young woman in Paris are beautiful and creative and bounce along on feet with some kind of inbuilt springs. How can a watercolour painting be so arousing ? These are but some of the mysteries of this novel.
In general this was a straight-forward book to read and certainly it has moments of interesting writing but it does slip into a kind pseudo-intellectual babble that is fitting given the main character is an Artist but it was often quite tedious ...
Plato would have me believe that my painting was an imitation of something. In fact my perceptions of the concrete things were tenebrous representations of some ideal. So I, the painter was imitating an imitation, making a simulacrum of a simulacrum. Fuck Plato, I thought, the painting in front of me was not an imitation, not a representation, but the concrete ideal. My perception of it might have been a representation, but the painting, well, it was the painting.
Thank goodness we got that ironed out.
Probably the weakest of the books I have read for this years Tournament of Books but at least it was short !
May 2, 2022
CRITIQUE:
So Little Black
Is literary or post-modern fiction a white thing?
Are there only white characters?
Do black lives matter in the world of make-believe?
Percival Everett makes you acutely aware of these issues.
On page 8, the painter protagonist, Kevin Pace, finds himself "sitting next to a young woman with perhaps the whitest skin I had ever seen." What follows is an analysis of her whiteness. Soon, "the backs of our hands grazed."
Readers suffer from an element of complicity and guilt, because we have already been informed that Kevin is 46, is married and has two children. Besides, Victoire is only 17 (not much older than his children).
There's no special reason for the protagonist to reveal his race. How would it come up in conversation?
Then, on page 26, another character says to Kevin:
Until then, I had assumed that Kevin was white. This piece of dialogue changed the colour of my reading lens, and for the first time I realised that Kevin was actually black.
I can't believe how presumptuous I had been: I had raced to judgment. And I had no excuse at all, because I already knew that Percival Everett was black.
Picasso - "The Blue Room"
So Much Blue
The novel's epigraph, by Diane Arbus, reads:
Everett's novel is a fiction about secrets that uses secrets to tell its story.
The novel paces out from chapters entitled "1979" (set in mischievous, menacing war-time El Salvador), to "House" (which represents underrated home, marriage and family, and is set in Philadelphia in 2009) and then to "Paris" (where Kevin has a flirtatious love affair with Victoire in 1999). [These dates are approximate, and might be wrong.]
Each stage or station holds a secret. It would be a spoiler to identify the nature of each secret, but you can probably guess at least one of them from what I've told you so far. The secrets are revealed to readers early in the novel.
The triangular structure of the narrative is one of the most accomplished and rewarding aspects of the novel. From about half way through, I wondered how Everett was going to pull the three strands together. At times, it seemed like he would fail. Yet, he managed to defer the resolution of the tension until the last page, which heightened the reward.
So Much Hiding
Kevin's problem derives from his artistic nature:
His wife has her own suspicions, and declares, "I always knew something happened down there [in El Salvador]." She could almost have been talking about a secret painting in his studio.
Even his son has his own theories, "You're always absent. You're just always in your head...You're an artist: you need to be in there."
Ultimately, true love (of partner, spouse or family) is not the ability to keep each other's secrets, but the ability to reveal secrets to each other:
In this highly readable novel, secrets tread a thin line between openness and closure.
SOUNDTRACK:
So Little Black
Is literary or post-modern fiction a white thing?
Are there only white characters?
Do black lives matter in the world of make-believe?
Percival Everett makes you acutely aware of these issues.
On page 8, the painter protagonist, Kevin Pace, finds himself "sitting next to a young woman with perhaps the whitest skin I had ever seen." What follows is an analysis of her whiteness. Soon, "the backs of our hands grazed."
Readers suffer from an element of complicity and guilt, because we have already been informed that Kevin is 46, is married and has two children. Besides, Victoire is only 17 (not much older than his children).
There's no special reason for the protagonist to reveal his race. How would it come up in conversation?
Then, on page 26, another character says to Kevin:
"Don't think I didn't notice that you're a nigger."
Until then, I had assumed that Kevin was white. This piece of dialogue changed the colour of my reading lens, and for the first time I realised that Kevin was actually black.
I can't believe how presumptuous I had been: I had raced to judgment. And I had no excuse at all, because I already knew that Percival Everett was black.
Picasso - "The Blue Room"
So Much Blue
The novel's epigraph, by Diane Arbus, reads:
"A picture is a secret about a secret, the more it tells you the less you know."
Everett's novel is a fiction about secrets that uses secrets to tell its story.
The novel paces out from chapters entitled "1979" (set in mischievous, menacing war-time El Salvador), to "House" (which represents underrated home, marriage and family, and is set in Philadelphia in 2009) and then to "Paris" (where Kevin has a flirtatious love affair with Victoire in 1999). [These dates are approximate, and might be wrong.]
Each stage or station holds a secret. It would be a spoiler to identify the nature of each secret, but you can probably guess at least one of them from what I've told you so far. The secrets are revealed to readers early in the novel.
The triangular structure of the narrative is one of the most accomplished and rewarding aspects of the novel. From about half way through, I wondered how Everett was going to pull the three strands together. At times, it seemed like he would fail. Yet, he managed to defer the resolution of the tension until the last page, which heightened the reward.
So Much Hiding
Kevin's problem derives from his artistic nature:
"I had isolated myself in my work. I had used my work as a refuge, a sanctum, a hiding place...
"The irony, one of them, was that my depression actually fed my work, made my art better, gave it a gravity, a depth that it hadn't had before."
His wife has her own suspicions, and declares, "I always knew something happened down there [in El Salvador]." She could almost have been talking about a secret painting in his studio.
Even his son has his own theories, "You're always absent. You're just always in your head...You're an artist: you need to be in there."
Ultimately, true love (of partner, spouse or family) is not the ability to keep each other's secrets, but the ability to reveal secrets to each other:
"A secret can exist only if its revelation, discovery, even betrayal is possible."
In this highly readable novel, secrets tread a thin line between openness and closure.
SOUNDTRACK:
February 12, 2018
4.5 ⭐️ Rounded up
February 18, 2021
“I looked across the dining room at a small canvas of mine. There was no blue in it. It was often pointed out that I avoided blue. It was true. I was uncomfortable with the color. I could never control it. It was nearly always a source of warmth in the under painting, but it was never on the surface, never more than an idea on any work. Regardless that blue was so likable, a color that so many loved or liked—no one hated blue—I could not use it. The color of trust, loyalty, a subject for philosophical discourse, the name of a musical form, blue was not mine.”
This book follows three timelines in the life of artist Kevin Pace. The chapters rotate among the three. They are entitled 1979, Paris, and House. In 1979, he is in his twenties. He has journeyed to El Salvador during a civil war to help his friend, Richard, find his brother and bring him home. In Paris, at age forty-six, Kevin is having a midlife crisis, staying in the city while his wife travels home, meeting a younger woman, and exhibiting his artwork. In the section entitled House, he is fifty-six years old living in the Northeast US with his wife and two teenage children. He is working on a secret painting.
The dramatic tension is maintained by curiosity – the reader wants to find out what happened during these three periods. We wonder why the painting is a secret, what happened in El Salvador, and how the current family drama will turn out. The three stories contain common threads. By the end, we find out more about Kevin’s character, and he finds out more about himself.
Kevin comes across as a likeable, but flawed, character. He worries he is not a good father. He feels guilty about his past. At times he seems distant and depressed. But he also exhibits amazing resourcefulness when needed and comes through for his friend. He is changed by his experiences, especially the episode in El Salvador. It is not what I would call a funny book, but the author uses humor in an effective way.
I really like the way Everett portrays how life happens, and we do not always realize the significance of certain events until much later. The secrets Kevin has harbored have changed him in ways he has not previously figured out. The joy of this book is watching him connect the dots. We know somehow life will be better for him in the future.
This is my first book by Percival Everett. I am impressed by his writing. I sometimes wonder how I have missed reading such an accomplished author until now. He has compiled a significant body of work, so I will definitely be investigating his back catalogue.
This book follows three timelines in the life of artist Kevin Pace. The chapters rotate among the three. They are entitled 1979, Paris, and House. In 1979, he is in his twenties. He has journeyed to El Salvador during a civil war to help his friend, Richard, find his brother and bring him home. In Paris, at age forty-six, Kevin is having a midlife crisis, staying in the city while his wife travels home, meeting a younger woman, and exhibiting his artwork. In the section entitled House, he is fifty-six years old living in the Northeast US with his wife and two teenage children. He is working on a secret painting.
The dramatic tension is maintained by curiosity – the reader wants to find out what happened during these three periods. We wonder why the painting is a secret, what happened in El Salvador, and how the current family drama will turn out. The three stories contain common threads. By the end, we find out more about Kevin’s character, and he finds out more about himself.
Kevin comes across as a likeable, but flawed, character. He worries he is not a good father. He feels guilty about his past. At times he seems distant and depressed. But he also exhibits amazing resourcefulness when needed and comes through for his friend. He is changed by his experiences, especially the episode in El Salvador. It is not what I would call a funny book, but the author uses humor in an effective way.
I really like the way Everett portrays how life happens, and we do not always realize the significance of certain events until much later. The secrets Kevin has harbored have changed him in ways he has not previously figured out. The joy of this book is watching him connect the dots. We know somehow life will be better for him in the future.
This is my first book by Percival Everett. I am impressed by his writing. I sometimes wonder how I have missed reading such an accomplished author until now. He has compiled a significant body of work, so I will definitely be investigating his back catalogue.
February 8, 2022
Not sure what to say about this, other than that I really enjoyed it. Its tripartite alternating chapters structure works really well, and it has an almost propulsive narrative drive...one of those books you keep promising yourself to lay aside after just one more chapter...then one more...then...
It basically follows the exploits of one Kevin Pace, an artist, in three separate time periods: in 1979, in his mid 20's, he accompanies his best friend Richard to El Salvador to try to find Richard's wayward brother, Tad, at the beginning of the country's civil war. Twenty years later, as a middling famous painter, married man Pace embarks on an adulterous affair in Paris, with a French girl half his age. And ten years after that, Pace faces the problem of a teenage pregnant daughter, who insists he keep his knowledge of her situation from her mother.
Each section basically deals with Pace having a secret he must keep, as well as one overriding secret that haunts him throughout his life - and how those 4 secrets work themselves out forms the core of the novel. I'm sure I'll be reading other of Everett's books in the near future.
It basically follows the exploits of one Kevin Pace, an artist, in three separate time periods: in 1979, in his mid 20's, he accompanies his best friend Richard to El Salvador to try to find Richard's wayward brother, Tad, at the beginning of the country's civil war. Twenty years later, as a middling famous painter, married man Pace embarks on an adulterous affair in Paris, with a French girl half his age. And ten years after that, Pace faces the problem of a teenage pregnant daughter, who insists he keep his knowledge of her situation from her mother.
Each section basically deals with Pace having a secret he must keep, as well as one overriding secret that haunts him throughout his life - and how those 4 secrets work themselves out forms the core of the novel. I'm sure I'll be reading other of Everett's books in the near future.
Read
April 22, 2022Kevin Pace is an abstract painter, of some fame, married with two children. He's a good, but not un-flawed, man. He's in a kind of existential morass, but not because of an ongoing crisis. Rather, there were two life-defining moments gnawing at him, one ten years ago, one thirty years ago.
So, this novel, in short, revolving chapters, takes us from the present who am I?, to an affair with a much younger Parisian watercolorist, to a reckless few days in El Salvador to retrieve a friend's brother. You'd be right to think this set-up a bit formulaic, but that didn't stop me from really enjoying it. Indeed, I finished it in one day in a hospital waiting room.
Musing on this, I considered that what really got me hooked on Goodreads was the discovery of books and authors that I might not otherwise have found in my rather parochial circumstances. Thirty books by Percival Everett, and I've only just "discovered" him through the gushing of my Goodreads friends.
There are different ways of rating books, and authors. I could follow the Goodreads regulations and give this'un one to five stars. Instead, let me tell you that immediately upon finishing this book I opened another website and ordered two more books by the same author. There.
So, this novel, in short, revolving chapters, takes us from the present who am I?, to an affair with a much younger Parisian watercolorist, to a reckless few days in El Salvador to retrieve a friend's brother. You'd be right to think this set-up a bit formulaic, but that didn't stop me from really enjoying it. Indeed, I finished it in one day in a hospital waiting room.
Musing on this, I considered that what really got me hooked on Goodreads was the discovery of books and authors that I might not otherwise have found in my rather parochial circumstances. Thirty books by Percival Everett, and I've only just "discovered" him through the gushing of my Goodreads friends.
There are different ways of rating books, and authors. I could follow the Goodreads regulations and give this'un one to five stars. Instead, let me tell you that immediately upon finishing this book I opened another website and ordered two more books by the same author. There.
May 28, 2022
Rating 3.75
Everett shows yet another voice with the story of Kevin Pace, a black father, husband and artist who's search for truth and redemption becomes his challenge. Engaging, 'blue' and evocative, it demonstrates the author's chameleon-like ability with genre and narrative POV.
As with many plots, the story toggles between the past and the present. We first meet Pace at home in the present where he keeps secret his latest works of art. But in 1979, his younger brother disappears so he enrolls his best friend Richard on a hunt to El Salvador where civil war has blossomed. A troublemaker, Tad's 'habits' become suspect.
We return to the present where Pace has been told of a gallery opportunity in Paris. With the embers of love fading, he invites his wife Linda with hopes to improve their relationship. Days later his wife decides to return leaving Pace to continue the journey. Unsettled emotionally, Kevin comes across a beautiful French girl putting him in an awkward position.
Finding an American in a war torn foreign country is no simple feat especially when you have no idea where to start. Strangers in a strange land, Kevin and Richard grow anxious while Bummer, their unruly 'guide' remains strangely calm.
Back in the present, Pace learns his teen daughter April is pregnant and stupidly agrees to keep it from his wife, though as with other 'private matters', his conscience comes into play.
Like most of Everett's stories, its focused on the human condition; and its for this reason he's a favorite. Characters are relatable as are plots; emotion and truth, the themes. Its my opinion that great authors dig into their own experience and share it through storytelling to both 'vet' their humanity and 'come clean'.
While well written, its tedious due to the 'ping pong' game and a bit predictable but overall, definitely worth reading.
Everett shows yet another voice with the story of Kevin Pace, a black father, husband and artist who's search for truth and redemption becomes his challenge. Engaging, 'blue' and evocative, it demonstrates the author's chameleon-like ability with genre and narrative POV.
As with many plots, the story toggles between the past and the present. We first meet Pace at home in the present where he keeps secret his latest works of art. But in 1979, his younger brother disappears so he enrolls his best friend Richard on a hunt to El Salvador where civil war has blossomed. A troublemaker, Tad's 'habits' become suspect.
We return to the present where Pace has been told of a gallery opportunity in Paris. With the embers of love fading, he invites his wife Linda with hopes to improve their relationship. Days later his wife decides to return leaving Pace to continue the journey. Unsettled emotionally, Kevin comes across a beautiful French girl putting him in an awkward position.
Finding an American in a war torn foreign country is no simple feat especially when you have no idea where to start. Strangers in a strange land, Kevin and Richard grow anxious while Bummer, their unruly 'guide' remains strangely calm.
Back in the present, Pace learns his teen daughter April is pregnant and stupidly agrees to keep it from his wife, though as with other 'private matters', his conscience comes into play.
Like most of Everett's stories, its focused on the human condition; and its for this reason he's a favorite. Characters are relatable as are plots; emotion and truth, the themes. Its my opinion that great authors dig into their own experience and share it through storytelling to both 'vet' their humanity and 'come clean'.
While well written, its tedious due to the 'ping pong' game and a bit predictable but overall, definitely worth reading.
March 2, 2020
Kevin Pace, un pittore americano, sposato con Linda, padre di Will e Alice, amico di Richard, custodisce tanti segreti.
Una vita apparentemente normale, cela tra le sue pieghe tante debolezze e sofferenze. E per nascondere uno dei traumi di quando era giovane, condiviso e vissuto solo con l'amico Richard, decide di sposare Linda
“Allora dimmi...” le domandai “... quando hai capito che mi amavi?” “So esattamente in quale momento mi sono innamorata di te. Eravamo in quel piccolo bar, quello che è bruciato... si parlava di pittura e ti chiesi perché ti piaceva tanto.” “E io cosa ho risposto?” “Hai guardato da un’altra parte e hai detto, ma come se non ti accorgessi nemmeno che stavi parlando... hai detto che potevi usare la pittura per fare un paesaggio, ma nessun paesaggio poteva mai diventare pittura.” “E tu hai capito?” “Per niente.”
E poi durante un viaggio a Parigi per un'esposizione d'arte, incontra Victoire, una giovanne donna di venticinque anni più giovane di lui, che gli fa perdere la testa: “Ho paura di farti male. E che ti farò male.” “Certo che andrà così” disse lei. “Lo so che non puoi stare lontano dai tuoi figli. Non sogno la favola che verrai a vivere con me. Sono giovane ma non sono ingenua.” Annuii. “No, sei tutto fuorché ingenua.” Anche stavolta mi faceva sentire il più giovane dei due. Le sfiorai una guancia. “Sei amorevole. Sei un colore puro.” “Amorevole è una parola interessante.” “Sì, vero?” Mi prese la mano. Le chiesi: “Allora che cos’è questo... noi, che cosa abbiamo?” “L’amore.” “L’amore” ripetei come in ascolto di quella parola. “È una parola così grossa.” “Tu amami e basta” lei mi disse. “Ti amo.”
Kevin, l'eterno assente, con problemi di alcolismo, con un passato difficile da metabolizzare, decide di affrontare il suo dolore, rappresentandolo su tela e tenendolo segreto a tutti: "Quello che trovai in aiuto al mio sforzo fu il mio quadro privato, che – ironia del caso – sembrava non fare meno danni alla mia famiglia del cognac."
"Un dipinto ha molte superfici. Dire che un quadro è come un racconto è una banalità non proprio falsa, ma senza sugo, anche se ciò non impedisce alla gente di istituire simili confronti scorretti e poco fondati. Il quadro che era la mia vita era statico, per nulla narrativo, in movimento ma senza parti mobili, in mutamento ma senza alterazioni. Le forme che conteneva erano elementi unici in situazioni uniche: io lo sapevo, ma non spinsi mai quel pensiero più in là della mia tela. Le forme erano organismi dotati di volontà e desiderio di imporsi. Ma le forme potevano respingere, e ogni forma possedeva un colore."
Quanti segreti ciascuno di noi custodisce dentro di sé? Fino a quando ha senso serbarli? Se si sapesse dipingere, che colore o che colori si userebbero per immortalare tutti i nostri segreti su una tela?
Kevin, tra tanti colori a disposizione, dal giallo, al verde, al rosso, ne sceglie uno solo: il Blu, come il colore della sua anima. Sceglie il blu, perché gli crea più difficoltà nella gestione. Perché tra tutti i colori è quello che non sentiva suo, quello legato al suo trauma.
PANTONE 19-4052 Classic Blue, come il colore di questo 2020.
La storia di Kevin Pace avvince, fa sorridere, emoziona e i salti temporali nella narrazione non disorientano, anzi.
Tanti i temi trattati, dall’amicizia, alla famiglia, all’amore, all’alcolismo, compreso quello razziale.
L’ho letteralmente divorato!
Avevo puntato questo autore dai tempi de In un palmo d’acqua pubblicato da Nutrimenti nel 2016, ma non avevo avuto modo ancora di leggerlo: e non mi sbagliavo! È bravissimo!
P.S. Informazioni sull’autore
Everett ha scritto 32 libri (tra romanzi e raccolte di poesie), quasi uno all’anno, visto che il suo primo romanzo è stato pubblicato nel 1983.
Nel 2009 ha vinto il Premio Gregor von Rezzori con Ferito, pubblicato sempre da Nutrimenti (che ha pubblicato 9 degli 11 suoi romanzi tradotti in Italia). È professore di inglese all’università della Southern California.
Scrive divinamente bene e Quanto blu pare non sia il suo miglior romanzo e voglio assolutamente recuperare almeno In un palmo d’acqua.
Una vita apparentemente normale, cela tra le sue pieghe tante debolezze e sofferenze. E per nascondere uno dei traumi di quando era giovane, condiviso e vissuto solo con l'amico Richard, decide di sposare Linda
“Allora dimmi...” le domandai “... quando hai capito che mi amavi?” “So esattamente in quale momento mi sono innamorata di te. Eravamo in quel piccolo bar, quello che è bruciato... si parlava di pittura e ti chiesi perché ti piaceva tanto.” “E io cosa ho risposto?” “Hai guardato da un’altra parte e hai detto, ma come se non ti accorgessi nemmeno che stavi parlando... hai detto che potevi usare la pittura per fare un paesaggio, ma nessun paesaggio poteva mai diventare pittura.” “E tu hai capito?” “Per niente.”
E poi durante un viaggio a Parigi per un'esposizione d'arte, incontra Victoire, una giovanne donna di venticinque anni più giovane di lui, che gli fa perdere la testa: “Ho paura di farti male. E che ti farò male.” “Certo che andrà così” disse lei. “Lo so che non puoi stare lontano dai tuoi figli. Non sogno la favola che verrai a vivere con me. Sono giovane ma non sono ingenua.” Annuii. “No, sei tutto fuorché ingenua.” Anche stavolta mi faceva sentire il più giovane dei due. Le sfiorai una guancia. “Sei amorevole. Sei un colore puro.” “Amorevole è una parola interessante.” “Sì, vero?” Mi prese la mano. Le chiesi: “Allora che cos’è questo... noi, che cosa abbiamo?” “L’amore.” “L’amore” ripetei come in ascolto di quella parola. “È una parola così grossa.” “Tu amami e basta” lei mi disse. “Ti amo.”
Kevin, l'eterno assente, con problemi di alcolismo, con un passato difficile da metabolizzare, decide di affrontare il suo dolore, rappresentandolo su tela e tenendolo segreto a tutti: "Quello che trovai in aiuto al mio sforzo fu il mio quadro privato, che – ironia del caso – sembrava non fare meno danni alla mia famiglia del cognac."
"Un dipinto ha molte superfici. Dire che un quadro è come un racconto è una banalità non proprio falsa, ma senza sugo, anche se ciò non impedisce alla gente di istituire simili confronti scorretti e poco fondati. Il quadro che era la mia vita era statico, per nulla narrativo, in movimento ma senza parti mobili, in mutamento ma senza alterazioni. Le forme che conteneva erano elementi unici in situazioni uniche: io lo sapevo, ma non spinsi mai quel pensiero più in là della mia tela. Le forme erano organismi dotati di volontà e desiderio di imporsi. Ma le forme potevano respingere, e ogni forma possedeva un colore."
Quanti segreti ciascuno di noi custodisce dentro di sé? Fino a quando ha senso serbarli? Se si sapesse dipingere, che colore o che colori si userebbero per immortalare tutti i nostri segreti su una tela?
Kevin, tra tanti colori a disposizione, dal giallo, al verde, al rosso, ne sceglie uno solo: il Blu, come il colore della sua anima. Sceglie il blu, perché gli crea più difficoltà nella gestione. Perché tra tutti i colori è quello che non sentiva suo, quello legato al suo trauma.
PANTONE 19-4052 Classic Blue, come il colore di questo 2020.
La storia di Kevin Pace avvince, fa sorridere, emoziona e i salti temporali nella narrazione non disorientano, anzi.
Tanti i temi trattati, dall’amicizia, alla famiglia, all’amore, all’alcolismo, compreso quello razziale.
L’ho letteralmente divorato!
Avevo puntato questo autore dai tempi de In un palmo d’acqua pubblicato da Nutrimenti nel 2016, ma non avevo avuto modo ancora di leggerlo: e non mi sbagliavo! È bravissimo!
P.S. Informazioni sull’autore
Everett ha scritto 32 libri (tra romanzi e raccolte di poesie), quasi uno all’anno, visto che il suo primo romanzo è stato pubblicato nel 1983.
Nel 2009 ha vinto il Premio Gregor von Rezzori con Ferito, pubblicato sempre da Nutrimenti (che ha pubblicato 9 degli 11 suoi romanzi tradotti in Italia). È professore di inglese all’università della Southern California.
Scrive divinamente bene e Quanto blu pare non sia il suo miglior romanzo e voglio assolutamente recuperare almeno In un palmo d’acqua.
January 22, 2023
Another very engaging work of fiction from Percival Everett. Everett structured this novel with three separate narratives: 1979 El Salvador, around year 2000 in Paris, and about 2010 at the narrator's home in New England. Everett explores how guilt can keep a man from really bonding with the people he should be closest to, and how love for a stranger can be real, despite its hopelessness. And how redemption is possible.
This book is so different from the other two PE books I've read, that it could literally be a different author, but I was just as engaged with this straight-ahead, page-turner of a work of fiction as I was with Trees. I foresee more Percival Everett books in my future.
This book is so different from the other two PE books I've read, that it could literally be a different author, but I was just as engaged with this straight-ahead, page-turner of a work of fiction as I was with Trees. I foresee more Percival Everett books in my future.
April 2, 2017
What makes a masterpiece? In a career as prolific, eclectic and adventurous as Percival Everett's, his body of work the very definition of singularity, it may even be foolish to hint one book is superior to another. And while it might be brazen to assert So Much Blue may be that magnum opus, it is an accusation i gleefully declare. A blissfully precise pen firmly draws the reader into the life of Kevin Pace in his quest for absolution and closure and the novel's three timelines kept deftly aloft by Everett's signature humor and nuanced storytelling.
June 12, 2022
Nel blu dipinto di blu
Comincio a temere che, dopo i fasti degli ottimi Cancellazione e Ferito, ambedue risalenti ai primi anni 2000, il resto della produzione di Everett non vada oltre un certo divertimento, una scrittura limpida e un po’ ammiccante, un’ambizione che traspare dalla struttura ricercata dei suoi romanzi ma si rivela infine al di sotto delle aspettative.
Prendiamo questo ”Quanto blu” (2017), articolato in tre linee temporali corrispondenti alle età dell’anonimo protagonista narrante: il presente, un’avventura romantica parigina precedente di un decennio e un’esperienza giovanile, debitamente irresponsabile, in un paese in piena guerra civile (El Salvador) circa 30 anni prima.
Progetto ambizioso e originale cui tuttavia non consegue, a mio avviso, il risultato complessivo prefisso, anche per lo squilibrio fra le tre storie, risultando l’episodio adulterino a Parigi alquanto stucchevole, noiosamente privo di scosse, zeppo di cliché e luoghi comuni e che secondo me contribuisce ad abbassare il livello del romanzo.
Più originale e corposa la parte salvadoregna per l’equilibrato dosaggio fra dramma e ironia con personaggi che escono dall’andamento routinario del racconto, ivi compreso il portagonista in versione giovanile, fifone e coraggioso in alternanza, generoso o strafottente secondo il momento e la piega che stanno prendendo gli eventi fuori controllo.
Il blu del titolo si riferisce all’attività di pittore e dovrebbe reggere metaforicamente l’impianto del romanzo, incarnando i segreti che si celano nel passato del personaggio, ma anche nel presente…
Quanto blu appartiene dunque alla categoria “si può anche leggere e passare il tempo divertendosi” (a corrente alternata), ma dopo qualche giorno ci si rende conto che non ha lasciato un’impronta indelebile nella mente del lettore.
Comincio a temere che, dopo i fasti degli ottimi Cancellazione e Ferito, ambedue risalenti ai primi anni 2000, il resto della produzione di Everett non vada oltre un certo divertimento, una scrittura limpida e un po’ ammiccante, un’ambizione che traspare dalla struttura ricercata dei suoi romanzi ma si rivela infine al di sotto delle aspettative.
Prendiamo questo ”Quanto blu” (2017), articolato in tre linee temporali corrispondenti alle età dell’anonimo protagonista narrante: il presente, un’avventura romantica parigina precedente di un decennio e un’esperienza giovanile, debitamente irresponsabile, in un paese in piena guerra civile (El Salvador) circa 30 anni prima.
Progetto ambizioso e originale cui tuttavia non consegue, a mio avviso, il risultato complessivo prefisso, anche per lo squilibrio fra le tre storie, risultando l’episodio adulterino a Parigi alquanto stucchevole, noiosamente privo di scosse, zeppo di cliché e luoghi comuni e che secondo me contribuisce ad abbassare il livello del romanzo.
Più originale e corposa la parte salvadoregna per l’equilibrato dosaggio fra dramma e ironia con personaggi che escono dall’andamento routinario del racconto, ivi compreso il portagonista in versione giovanile, fifone e coraggioso in alternanza, generoso o strafottente secondo il momento e la piega che stanno prendendo gli eventi fuori controllo.
Il blu del titolo si riferisce all’attività di pittore e dovrebbe reggere metaforicamente l’impianto del romanzo, incarnando i segreti che si celano nel passato del personaggio, ma anche nel presente…
Quanto blu appartiene dunque alla categoria “si può anche leggere e passare il tempo divertendosi” (a corrente alternata), ma dopo qualche giorno ci si rende conto che non ha lasciato un’impronta indelebile nella mente del lettore.
January 10, 2018
It didn't take a genius to see this was not a good proposition, but it did take an idiot not to see it.
Kevin Pace is an artist. A successful artist. He's done well enough to own an ample house, with outbuildings and to send his children to a private school. And he's not happy, because of course. But there's more to it than that, and Everett takes us through three times in Kevin's life that shaped him.
The first is in 1979, when the brother of his best friend and college roommate disappears in El Salvador and his friend convinces him that they need to go there and find him. This is, as anyone with the slightest knowledge of Central America at that time, is a terrible, terrible idea. But Kevin doesn't require much convincing, because Richard is his best friend and needs his help. He's certainly a lot more attuned to the potential dangers than his suburban-raised white friend, but he goes anyway. And so they walk into a burgeoning war zone.
The second is when his children are small and he and his wife go to Paris when a French gallery is going to show his work. He stays behind for a few weeks after his wife returns home to prepare the show, but really because he has met a French woman half his age.
And finally, back in Kevin's present, in his comfortable middle-age, as he continues to mess up his life. He has a painting; an enormous work that sits alone in its own outbuilding. No one, including his wife, is allowed to see it and his desire to protect that work from anyone's eyes but his own is another way in which he distances himself from those who love him. And when his daughter needs him, he wants to be there for her, but a lifetime of distance means he can't see the obvious answers.
For awhile now, I've been bored with the WMFuN* because of the sheer number of them I've read in my life. So I should have hated So Much Blue, which is, after all, about a well-off guy who makes a mess of things. But Percival Everett writes so well, and does such a wonderful job in bringing the main character to life, that I was drawn into the novel despite myself. That Kevin wasn't another white guy did help, but mostly it was that he was so clear-eyed about everything he did. Kevin never blamed anyone else for the situations he found himself in and he was so aware of how the things he did affected others that it was impossible not to like him. Everett is an assured writer, who knows exactly what he's doing every step of the way. I enjoyed this book enormously.
* WMFuN: white male fuck-up novel. A genre with a long and illustrious history. After all, it's the default plot for much of literature. And it's a tired and overdone genre in which it's nearly impossible to say something new.
Kevin Pace is an artist. A successful artist. He's done well enough to own an ample house, with outbuildings and to send his children to a private school. And he's not happy, because of course. But there's more to it than that, and Everett takes us through three times in Kevin's life that shaped him.
The first is in 1979, when the brother of his best friend and college roommate disappears in El Salvador and his friend convinces him that they need to go there and find him. This is, as anyone with the slightest knowledge of Central America at that time, is a terrible, terrible idea. But Kevin doesn't require much convincing, because Richard is his best friend and needs his help. He's certainly a lot more attuned to the potential dangers than his suburban-raised white friend, but he goes anyway. And so they walk into a burgeoning war zone.
The second is when his children are small and he and his wife go to Paris when a French gallery is going to show his work. He stays behind for a few weeks after his wife returns home to prepare the show, but really because he has met a French woman half his age.
And finally, back in Kevin's present, in his comfortable middle-age, as he continues to mess up his life. He has a painting; an enormous work that sits alone in its own outbuilding. No one, including his wife, is allowed to see it and his desire to protect that work from anyone's eyes but his own is another way in which he distances himself from those who love him. And when his daughter needs him, he wants to be there for her, but a lifetime of distance means he can't see the obvious answers.
For awhile now, I've been bored with the WMFuN* because of the sheer number of them I've read in my life. So I should have hated So Much Blue, which is, after all, about a well-off guy who makes a mess of things. But Percival Everett writes so well, and does such a wonderful job in bringing the main character to life, that I was drawn into the novel despite myself. That Kevin wasn't another white guy did help, but mostly it was that he was so clear-eyed about everything he did. Kevin never blamed anyone else for the situations he found himself in and he was so aware of how the things he did affected others that it was impossible not to like him. Everett is an assured writer, who knows exactly what he's doing every step of the way. I enjoyed this book enormously.
* WMFuN: white male fuck-up novel. A genre with a long and illustrious history. After all, it's the default plot for much of literature. And it's a tired and overdone genre in which it's nearly impossible to say something new.
February 12, 2020
quanti segreti
Kevin è un pittore, ha un segreto, anzi più di uno
il secondo segreto è piuttosto un clichè
mentre il primo è un vero segreto americano
poi c'è il segreto nel casotto dove lavora
e il segreto di sua figlia
tutti questi segreti verranno svelati
alcuni solo al lettore e a una sola persona del racconto
altri a tutti
nel complesso è tutto molto ben costruito,
ma freddo e curiosamente senza traccia di complessità
una storia a più livelli
ciascuno dei quali si può lentamente intuire al primo accenno
Un lettore deve fare un po' fatica a leggere, dai: in fondo è la parte bella della lettura, questa. (cit)
che bei tempi quelli in cui Percival Everett affermava questo...
non che questo non sia un bel libro, letto in un pomeriggio, praticamente divorato,
ma non sembra neanche di Percival Everett, non che non sia coinvolgente, anzi lo è e pure molto,
ma ha completamente perso ogni connotazione originale e/o postmoderna
immagino si sia stufato di esser letto da un numero esiguo di persone
"Credi davvero in Dio?"
"Si, un dio c'è, ma fa male il suo lavoro"
Kevin è un pittore, ha un segreto, anzi più di uno
il secondo segreto è piuttosto un clichè
mentre il primo è un vero segreto americano
poi c'è il segreto nel casotto dove lavora
e il segreto di sua figlia
tutti questi segreti verranno svelati
alcuni solo al lettore e a una sola persona del racconto
altri a tutti
nel complesso è tutto molto ben costruito,
ma freddo e curiosamente senza traccia di complessità
una storia a più livelli
ciascuno dei quali si può lentamente intuire al primo accenno
Un lettore deve fare un po' fatica a leggere, dai: in fondo è la parte bella della lettura, questa. (cit)
che bei tempi quelli in cui Percival Everett affermava questo...
non che questo non sia un bel libro, letto in un pomeriggio, praticamente divorato,
ma non sembra neanche di Percival Everett, non che non sia coinvolgente, anzi lo è e pure molto,
ma ha completamente perso ogni connotazione originale e/o postmoderna
immagino si sia stufato di esser letto da un numero esiguo di persone
"Credi davvero in Dio?"
"Si, un dio c'è, ma fa male il suo lavoro"
March 7, 2019
What Kevin does care about are the events of the past. Ten years ago he had an affair with a young watercolorist in Paris. Kevin relates this event with a dispassionate air, even a bit of puzzlement. It’s not clear to him why he had the affair, but he can’t let it go. In the more distant past of the late seventies, Kevin and Richard traveled to El Salvador on the verge of war to retrieve Richard’s drug-dealing brother, who had gone missing without explanation. As the events of the past intersect with the present, Kevin struggles to justify the sacrifices he’s made for his art and the secrets he’s kept from his wife.
September 6, 2017
My first Percival Everett novel and I would like more, please.
My full review is available here. An excerpt:
My full review is available here. An excerpt:
In So Much Blue we have a muted, sober rendering of what seems to be a cliché: that of the financially well-off bourgeois artist coming to terms with his life in his 50s. It’s not an easy novel to talk about or even recommend; what sounds terribly pedestrian in the description is, of course, something else entirely in Everett’s hands. The book’s narrator is Kevin Pace, now a respected abstract painter who lives a “very arty and New Englandy” life. When we meet him, he’s extremely wary of the success he has and the very notion of it. “Personally, I no longer care about being a genius,” Kevin tells us.
The epigraph to the novel is a quote by Diane Arbus: “A picture is a secret about a secret.” We learn that Kevin has a secret painting in the shed that he’s never let anyone see, not his wife, not his kids, not his best friend Richard. Kevin has heard that “there is much talk or chatter, prattling, in the so-called art world (which is more doubtful, art or world?) about my secret painting, that painting, this painting.” It might be the case that because of his fame, “some parties” have already started bidding on his secret painting without giving a fig about what it is. There’s less concern about the art and more concern about the value of his name in the market. “From what I have heard, my family might be taken care of for a couple of generations after my death. There is really nothing comforting in this knowledge.”
January 18, 2018
Points for accessibility.....I didn't have any trouble reading it, I just didn't find the story particularly insightful or gripping. I need more from an author than a story about how he done his woman wrong :-) I think this one will be eliminated from the Tournament of Books early on.
June 25, 2024
Talk about your pivots. This was my first Everett that was an entirely dramatic affair, save the occasional joke spoken as dialogue. It is incredible. It also uncannily borrows some plot points—put kindly—from Vonnegut’s Bluebeard, a personal KVJ favorite so, hey, yay me. Trilaterally told in a very distinct and non-chronological rotation, the novel reads like a collaboration between Robert Stone, Ali Smith, and Everett, with each writing their respectively assigned thirds. As I love each of those writers, this was, if sobering, no less a too-kind gift.
And I love you. No. Not that one, the (muffled). Left. Your other left. Two over…and…that one.
Stop.
And I love you. No. Not that one, the (muffled). Left. Your other left. Two over…and…that one.
Stop.
June 7, 2023
I needed this read. It won't be the last I read from Everett. With 20ish novels to choose from, I'm looking forward to whichever comes next.
*ETA a few quotes:
"The real sadness was that I drifted away from my wife and children because of alcohol, but instead of finding the current back to them when I ceased, I camped out on an uncharted island in the middle of myself."
“No, I never flew into rages or stumbled late and noisily into dance recitals or yelled a little too loud and made inappropriate comments at soccer games, but I became acutely aware that I wore a sickly-sweet late evening cologne and I noticed how my children looked at my eyes, holding them for too long and looking away too quickly.”
“I looked across the dining room at a small canvas of mine. There was no blue in it. It was often pointed out that I avoided blue. It was true. I was uncomfortable with the color. I could never control it. It was nearly always a source of warmth in the under painting, but it was never on the surface, never more than an idea on any work. Regardless that blue was so likable, a color that so many loved or liked—no one hated blue—I could not use it. The color of trust, loyalty, a subject for philosophical discourse, the name of a musical form, blue was not mine.”
*ETA a few quotes:
"The real sadness was that I drifted away from my wife and children because of alcohol, but instead of finding the current back to them when I ceased, I camped out on an uncharted island in the middle of myself."
“No, I never flew into rages or stumbled late and noisily into dance recitals or yelled a little too loud and made inappropriate comments at soccer games, but I became acutely aware that I wore a sickly-sweet late evening cologne and I noticed how my children looked at my eyes, holding them for too long and looking away too quickly.”
“I looked across the dining room at a small canvas of mine. There was no blue in it. It was often pointed out that I avoided blue. It was true. I was uncomfortable with the color. I could never control it. It was nearly always a source of warmth in the under painting, but it was never on the surface, never more than an idea on any work. Regardless that blue was so likable, a color that so many loved or liked—no one hated blue—I could not use it. The color of trust, loyalty, a subject for philosophical discourse, the name of a musical form, blue was not mine.”
March 23, 2018
Another instance in which I was caught by a beautiful cover. The story itself was very boring, ponderously so, and I just didn't care about the characters.
July 11, 2018
This story about a middle-aged artist reckoning with his past takes us through three formative periods in his life.
In 1979, Kevin accompanies his best friend Richard to El Salvador to search for Richard’s brother in the increasingly dangerous country. While there, he has a life-altering experience that haunts him from that point forward.
After coming home from El Salvador, Kevin marries Linda, a woman whom he likes but doesn’t love, desperate for a sense of security and normalcy. Years later, he has an affair with a young French woman while spending time in Paris for an art show.
In the present, Kevin’s daughter has a secret of her own that she entrusts Kevin to keep, and that further drives a wedge between him and Linda.
So Much Blue is, at its core, a book about the secrets we keep from the people we love, and how the choices we make shape us into who we are. It’s about a man on the edge of crisis in different phases of his life, and the ways in which he tries to justify and elude his past.
It’s richly intellectual and surprisingly very funny in spite of the heavy subject matter. An engaging exploration of one man’s life.
In 1979, Kevin accompanies his best friend Richard to El Salvador to search for Richard’s brother in the increasingly dangerous country. While there, he has a life-altering experience that haunts him from that point forward.
After coming home from El Salvador, Kevin marries Linda, a woman whom he likes but doesn’t love, desperate for a sense of security and normalcy. Years later, he has an affair with a young French woman while spending time in Paris for an art show.
In the present, Kevin’s daughter has a secret of her own that she entrusts Kevin to keep, and that further drives a wedge between him and Linda.
So Much Blue is, at its core, a book about the secrets we keep from the people we love, and how the choices we make shape us into who we are. It’s about a man on the edge of crisis in different phases of his life, and the ways in which he tries to justify and elude his past.
It’s richly intellectual and surprisingly very funny in spite of the heavy subject matter. An engaging exploration of one man’s life.
June 30, 2017
This novel addresses how difficult to define, and how elusive, are both love and colors. Following stories from three different episodes in the narrator's life, it also makes the case that it is possible for men to grow up even after they hit 50, which perhaps explains some of my enthusiasm. But there is also the fact that this novel offers some thought-provoking inquiry alongside absolutely gripping drama, and comedy. And Everett is just brilliant at cliche avoidance. I can't resist his prose.
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