This book is not just a diary. The painting that emerges with each new touch. Here are a few of coats of paint – “Indian yellow”. Paint from the urine of cows fed mango. Another sweep of the brush “Egyptian brown.” Powdered mummies, bones and ashes of burnt asphalt. Lick the brush, concentrating it. For contrast, let’s add “Dutch pink.” Crushed berries. Accents will put “Emerald green”. An insecticide poison.
Pencil and brush have mastered before speech. On her wonderful drawings of landscapes, houses, churches – all this is a fabulous island that was born in her imagination. She escapes from poverty and married… now living on the island of your dreams. Misty Wilmot. Queen of the slaves. A fat waitress, who for many years has not picked up the brush.
Returning from work discovers her husband committed suicide. And is now forced to mortgage the house to work more to feed the mother-in-law and daughter, and trying to save money – a ticket to a better future for her daughter, which it does not put a penny. Spinning like a squirrel in a wheel to finally escape from this island. While everybody is saying “misty, paint! You will become a famous artist!” What happens on this island?
At one point, he was a rafflesia – beautiful flower-a parasite with the smell of rotting meat, taking root in your body? I wanted to say the husband of misty, ispitivali walls in the homes of others ominous messages? What aren’t you telling me the islanders and lost in the testimony? And who wrote the diary that follows the life of misty? Palahniuk, as always, is very peculiar. But this book was, I would say, with a slight tinge of dirt.
The first couple of chapters were confusing without it still nothing. Then had the picture: a carpenter in a coma, before that in houses where he worked, “disappeared” room, the walls are found some of the sectarian slogans. And yet he left a wife, who like the artist, but I have not draws.