A week or two back Cornflower asked for pictures that summed up a book. It’s an idea that fascinated and stumped me in equal measure. Ask a question like that and my mind goes instantly blank which annoys me all the more because I have a degree in History of Art – theoretically my memory contains a vast picture library which I ought to be able to call on at a time like this to provide something dazzlingly appropriate.
In practice it doesn’t, or at least it does contain a vast picture library (even if many of the details are a little fuzzy now) many of which are so dazzlingly appropriate that they have already been used as cover art for the books I have in mind. Some are dazzlingly inappropriate and reflect books I expect no nice girl would admit reading but that’s what comes of a liberal arts education.
Still this is something I wanted to take part in because that degree contributed a lot towards my reading tastes and preferences. I have a love of British art only partly born out of a complete and humiliating lack of ability to learn another language; it’s a love that reaches its consummation with the Victorians (though isn’t by any means confined to them), specifically in problem paintings and conversation pieces. It’s a small step from sensational canvas to sensation novel and combining the two only heightens the appreciation of both for me.