Pax

by John Harvey

When artist Stephen Bloodsmith creates a series of images inspired by Rubens' trip to London in 1629, he enters a historical world of suspicion and intrigue. But will the manipulations he portrays in art spill over into the real world? When he practises deception inside his own marriage, falling in love with his model even as the romance of his wife Robyn unravels, the corrosive parallels between Bloodsmith's and Rubens' lives – the discovery of intimate secrets, the pain caused by desire and jealousy, the consequences of power and conflict – become hard to live with and impossible to ignore.
Rubens believed he could make peace between the warring powers of Europe. To succeed he must win over Charles I of England, while in Paris 'the Cardinal' is working to frustrate him. Will nation cheat nation as people deceive one another in their personal lives?

At once an intimate portrait of sexual pain in two centuries and a gripping depiction of international deal-making, Pax is a rich, compelling study of desire, power, art – and the search for private and public peace.

346 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2019

About the author

A writer and a Life Fellow at Emmanuel College, Cambridge.

Information from the Literary Review website.

Reviews

[Garry Nixon · Rating 2 out of 5]

In 2002 an artist and teacher has an affair with his model, whilst obsessing about Ruben's visit to England in 1629. The protagonist is a somewhat irritating character, whose view of relationships put me in mind of John Fowles and the early-70s.

He's not actually a racist, but his reaction to a life model being black suggests he's never got to know any black people before. And as he conceives a passion for the model, he's briefly haunted by the presence of a feminist colleague, stalking the corridors of the college with a condemnatory air about her. (She quickly disappears from the narrative, sorry to say, she might have helped it.)

The trips to 1629 are a welcome relief, though I'm sorry to say Rubens is painted (quite literally) as an occassional sexual chancer, too. I was more than half-way through before I managed to get over my irritation with the mansplaining protagonist enough to enjoy the narrative, but the last 50 pages dragged a bit too. At least it won the Bad Sex bauble, which once you've read it comes as no surprise at all.

[James]

John Harvey's Pax is a brilliant exploration of desire, betrayal, ambivalence and loss. I give it my highest recommendation.

[Lel Budge · Rating 3 out of 5]

Set over two timelines, that of Rubens in 1629 and Stephen Bloodsmith in the present day.

Bloodsmith is an artist who is inspired by Rubens art and researches his life and a trip he made to London.

Bloodsmith has a wife and daughter, but becomes obsessed with his model, Mae.

This is the story of desire, not just sexual desire but the desire for power. There’s art, politics and lots of intrigue. Beautifully written, almost poetic and a marvellous piece of historical fiction.

However, I do have to mention the sex in this novel, unfortunately the language used lets this marvellous read down a little…..’marks of the lust-beast’ really? But don’t let that put you off, this really is an engrossing read for anyone who loves historical fiction.

Thank you to Robert at Holland House Books for the opportunity to read this for free. This is my honest and unbiased review.

[BW · Rating 5 out of 5]

The artist Stephen Bloodsmith has two obsessions: his beautiful enigmatic model Mae and the surprising diplomatic visit by the great Flemish painter Rubens to London in 1629. Harvey’s interweaving of the 21st and 17th centuries through Stephen's print series on that visit is very original and successful. Both Mae and Rubens emerge as brilliantly realised characters. I quite fell in love with Mae, and Rubens’ warm humanity shines out. Plus one learns effortlessly a lot about the processes of making art (clearly the author has experience here) and Rubens’ historic peace mission. A very moving and thought-provoking novel on many levels.