“What makes a work of art unique isn’t its color or composition or subject, it has nothing whatsoever to do with what we see. Why are some paintings masterpieces while others, perhaps even more competent, are forgotten? Why are some symphonies still beloved hundreds of years after the composer has died?”

Gamache thought about it. And what came to mind was the painting placed so casually on an easel after dinner a few nights ago. Badly lit, unframed, and yet he could have stared at it forever. It was the painting of the elderly woman, her body headed forward but her face turned back. He’d known her longing. That same root which spasamed while gazing at the carving had ached while gazing at the woman. Clara hadn’t simply painted a woman, hadn’t even painted a feeling, she’d created a world in that one image. That was a masterpiece.

Another beautiful passage from Louise Penny’s masterpiece The Brutal Telling.

Painting above: Old Woman Cutting Her Nails, Style of Rembrandt (Dutch, second or third quarter 17th century)

Tags:aestheticsartbeautyLouise PennymasterpieceThe Brutel Telling