The Narcissus myth reinvented in New York's elite.

Two beautiful-and-they-know-it couples' charmed lives get messy when their paths cross during the summer of 2015.

Joukovsky's writing is witty and clever, with a finely-tuned sense of the absurd. Her use of aposiopeses* (the device of suddenly breaking off in speech) during the VIP rooftop party is a tour de force of literary juxtaposition. *By way of explanation, the word 'aposiopesis' (sing.) appears in the novel.

The fine art descriptions are erudite, never overbearing, and reflect the myth and the plot. It is worth reading the appendices.

So much cleverness and erudition can be grating. The midway point, in particular, suffers from this affliction.

The Portrait of a Mirror has a satirical style reminiscent of the early novels of Evelyn Waugh. I can see this novel adapting well to film/TV.

My thanks to NetGalley and publisher Abrams for the ARC.

Joudovsky goes all out to produce a literary fiction novel and it shows; there are some interesting realizations about human nature but overall it all seems overly contrived.

an incredible novel, i was captivated from the very beginning. intelligent writing style and interesting plot line and character development

Unfortunately I was unable to get through this entire book. While this book had intriguing 3-dimensional characters, I personally found the writing too technical and almost clinical in the way things were described. I appreciated the commentary and irony of it all, the self-obssessed characters paralleling the myth of Narcissus very well, but it all seemed rather tongue-in-cheek and it was a struggle to keep going and for me to see beyond the surface-level references to the myth. I liked the in-depth character analysis and I'm sure readers who prefer character-driven stories will be fond of this book.

This book tries really hard to provide scathing social commentary, but I am afraid it stops short of brilliance and ends up tied in its own masturbatory self-loathing. It makes for some sardonic side-smiles, wry glances towards the audience, but in the end it is similar to Easton-Ellis in that it tries so hard to be a piece of literary commentary that it ties itself up in knots. There's archetypal reliance to last the ages in here, and I know of the crowd that it is attempting to lampoon- but let's face it, I'm from rural Australia. The nuances of the rich New York elite are barely within my scope of vision, and while I am sure their behaviour is about as reprehensible as it comes, I'm afraid this book made for little of a scrape of the world that I am more familiar with. I am very sure that there are people out there for whom this is the peak of comedic genius- I am not those people.

The writing style was also disjointed and strange, attempting to be jarring to further the narrative- but I just could not connect with it. The characters had little impact on me, the events were boring and entrenched in tedium. I do feel that is part of the point- however, perhaps indulging some more social commentary would not have gone amiss too? I found little to like here, but I do appreciate again that it is for a subset of people- hence my two stars.

3.5*

Very captivating and exciting; though this is largely a feeling encompassed by the last third of the book. There were moments (towards the end) where I was holding my breath and hurriedly reading to find out the exact resolution of a situation. I loved the poetic circularity of the book and really found myself sinking into the symbolism and juxtaposition of the characters and their mindsets/personalities.

The language of this book is both entirely too complex yet perfectly appropriate for the story. While there were moments where I found myself thinking, "it sounds as though someone just picked up a thesaurus and replaced all of the common words with obscure ones," it didn't necessarily detract or distract from the moment at hand. (But it must also be noted that it didn't necessarily *add* anything either.) However, there were many sentences I found myself reading and re-reading due to the sheer complexity and construction of said sentences. Having to re-read and think hard about exactly what was being said takes you out of the story from time to time and can start to make you feel a little silly about not knowing what's being talked about. This is definitely a book you need to pay attention to; not just for the language, but for the sequence of events that take place.

I have to believe that there is more than just a little irony and exaggeration in this story. Largely in the sense that it's all just so crazy, so utterly *un*relateable that it becomes relatable in the general. The characters are so wealthy, so beyond what we would consider ordinary, day-to-day Americans and their problems are exactly what I'd label "rich, white people problems" that it's hard not to laugh at them and their woes (sometimes.) Julian is without a doubt my favourite character (followed closely by Horace, let it be known) and his presence between the lives of both Diana and Wes and Vivien and Dale tie their problems together in a neat little bow. But there is just so much nonsense in the scenarios the couples find themselves in that it's hard to take it seriously at times. Not that the action isn't dramatic and not that there aren't serious moments that have you gripping the book with a sudden fervour—just that it's so easy to have a giggle and think to yourself, "gosh, I wish these were *my* problems!"

It's all a bit predictable, but I didn't mind that too much. And the connection to the myth of Narcissus is beautiful and pronounced throughout. Even if you're not too familiar with the myth (as I myself was not) it's a good story on its own. Some of my favourite parts were reading the analyses of the art pieces presented by Vivien on her tours. The depth that Joukovsky goes to to make Vivien a true expert in her field is not lost on the reader. It doesn't feel forced and it doesn't feel as though you're being talked-down-to. It's totally accessible and provides some really beautiful analysis and discussion.

I swear I could go on and on about this book—there really is so much to talk about. It's beautifully cyclical and the cut-scene-esque writing of the last parts of the book are absolutely brilliant. As much as I got frustrated by the word choice at times, I can't deny that it is a well-constructed and elegantly planned story. Everything fits neatly together and works regardless of where in the story you are. Pieces start falling into place just so and it's really wonderfully done.

If nothing else, skipping back to predictability for a moment, I wish that there were deeper connections between Vivien and Diana and Dale and Wes. I understand that each of them sees themselves in the other's partner (Wes to Vivien and Diana to Dale, even though the partnerships are Wes and Diana and Vivien and Dale) and sees also what they cannot have because of what they already have. It's agonisingly yet elegantly orchestrated—but I wish that the women had each seen themselves in the other and the same for the men. To have Diana and Vivien challenge one another intellectually, to be shocked by the other's whit and intelligence and charm, would have been more striking. The same for Wes and Dale—for them to have been challenged by the other's materialism and drive, to have seen what they each had (materially) and to feel confronted yet undermined and then given a need to prove themselves the better.

That's all to say that it felt a bit on the marks of most stories that involve people falling in love with another's husband/wife/partner. Again revisiting the point of being able to relate to the story, it was just...not relatable? To look at these characters, all of whom are rich, successful, and well-to-do, and to have their biggest problems be a lack of communication and adultery—? I wish I had those problems. However, it must be said that Joukovsky creates the myth of Narcissus within these issues incredibly well. Just because it's a familiar trope doesn't mean it's bad. And just because I can't relate to being exorbitantly wealthy and living in million-dollar-homes doesn't mean I don't want to read about it. It just adds an extra layer that the reader has to peel back; this can be good or bad, depending on how many layers a story has.

Overall, would recommend this to readers who enjoy the writing style of Donna Tartt. Obviously not the same content or focus as Tartt's novels, but the same level of complexity in language and sentence structure. I'm deeply in love with the mythology and writers taking the time to modernise ancient myths (like that of Narcissus.) A good read, and something that I would recommend to those who want to really read a book and look past its surface. Beautifully cyclical and fervent—you're only ever one page away from potential disaster, and it's the balance on that fulcrum that keeps the story going.

Technically skilled writing that sometimes remained a touch too internal, I found myself at arm's length from all characters more often than not as decisions were made. A difficult one for me to finish, but not because of lack of merit.

I fell in love with this book. It had everything I wanted. And it was beautifully written. Every word inviting you to read the next! It was truly hypnotizing!

The characters in this novel could be the characters in The Secret History,who, in an alternative universe went to different colleges and survived into adulthood relatively unscathed. Or else they are Patrick Batemans (Batemen?) without the psychopathy: wealthy, cultured, but desperately incomplete. They are well dressed, highly sexed, and self-obsessed. However, they are always compelling because the writing is a joy, an effortless and sophisticated character study, heavy on descriptions and dialogue rather than plot or action. As I’m not an art historian or classicist I’m not sure if this was working on another level regarding the Narcissus myth (beyond the obvious) and I’m also not sure that the epistolary segments (emails, instagram posts etc) added anything to the story but this was an enjoyable read.

Relentlessly clever and written with poetic precision, I can't stop thinking about this book. I can't stop talking about this book.

I think there is a specific audience for this book: wealthy urbanites who can abashedly laugh at the sarcastic tone with which this book kind of makes fun of them. For the rest of us, its tongue-in-cheek-ness simply comes off as unfiltered, somewhat self-aware pretentiousness.

I am aware that the purpose of the book is to critique the very narcissism that plagues our society; specifically, a very exclusive sector of society. The voice of the narration may authentically convey this egotism, but sadly, it makes the reading unbearable to me. I could not relate to a single character: as they were supposed to represent Prep School archetypes that I am not familiar with, they come off as cartoons rather than a cynical rendering of "that kid we all knew from prep".

This book has a crowd, and I am sure they will enjoy it tremendously. I am just not part of its audience.

Although the author's style was striking and just as satisfyingly pretentious as it's meant to be, I am personally not the type of reader to connect with this story.

I love the concept of connecting a familiar character archetype of the modern world to one crafted and explored in Greek mythology, It reminds us where and why myths originate, and how we as flawed beings will always be mirrors of each other and ourselves.

And I feel Joukovsky did an stellar job in not only writing the characters, but also writing in the characters' own vernacular and point of view, adding another much-appreciated level to the work.

However, there just wasn't much for me to grasp on to, to really care about the characters enough to see the story to its conclusion.

It is defnitely more of an in-depth character exploration than anything, and to readers who are looking for that, this is a perfect novel for you! If, however, like me, you need more structure and movement to your novels, then I would respectfully give this one a pass.

I enjoyed the overall story. However I didn't get on with the style of writing that seemed loaded with metaphors and references that I didn't always get.

I just couldn't do this book. Joukovsky's writing style is just over the top with vocabulary that is more than I could handle. Soooo wordy. Lots of words. After about 28% I gave up. The fault lies entirely with this reader.

Not a lot happened in the section that I read - there were incredibly sophisticated descriptions of everything. The chapters that were composed primarily of emails and texts were an interesting inclusion. However, I needed some sort of action to keep me interested, and it just wasn't happening. I did hate to give up, but I found myself skimming and I felt that wasn't fair to the book.

Thanks to NetGalley for letting me attempt this book.

I so enjoyed this book. Planning to reread soon. This line from the preview captures it well: "In this wickedly fun debut, A. Natasha Joukovsky crafts an absorbing portrait of modern romance, rousing real sympathy for these flawed characters even as she skewers them."

Really liked the story itself, but the writing is what I enjoyed the most; often with highly-acclaimed literature in this style, I appreciate the writing and the craft but find it to be a bit over the top and end up skimming long descriptions and narratives to get back to the plot. Here, I found myself wanting to save passages every few pages or read out loud to a friend, either because they were laugh-out-loud funny, were genuinely thought-provoking / made me question elements of my own behaviors and relationships, or were just brilliantly descriptive in a way that added to the narrative and not just the page count.

Highly recommend Portrait of a Mirror and looking forward to anything else we see from this writer!

The Portrait of a Mirror is a study in relationships. It’s an exploration of how everyone is a mirror. And when we fall in love with someone, we are actually falling in love with ourselves. We are projecting our own inner divinity onto them, to our detriment. How do we overcome this? By recognizing the other person for who they truly are, rather than venerating them as a kind of godlike version of ourselves.

"It was when Diana was at her most artless, when the unattractive realities of her humanness seeped to the surface, that Dale was most inclined to deify her in symbolic worship."

The story itself is about two wealthy couples from the right side of the tracks. You know the kind- those privileged elites that summer in Nantucket and own 3-5 houses and have their weddings featured in the New York Times and eat fast food to be ironic. It’s about the juxtaposition between the facade and reality. How you can appear to ‘have it all,’ and yet be miserable on the inside. Wes and Diana, Dale and Vivien are the quintessential example of this. They are the creme de la creme, the envy of of their social circles, living the American dream (and then some!). And yet they are overcome with grass is greener syndrome in the relationship department; prime candidates for the hit reality tv show, Wife Swap.

The Portrait of a Mirror is quite possibly the most pretentious book I’ve ever read. And this is coming from someone who has a very high threshold for ostentation. I certainly wouldn’t say that it detracts from the experience. In fact, I believe that pretentiousness is one of the book’s defining characteristics. It’s a stylistic choice that suits the characters and establishes Joukovsky as an expert, someone who has dipped her toes in that glamorous upper crust social strata and therefore is well-equipped to navigate us through it.

The prose is witty, challenging and scintillating. It demands that the reader keep up. I admire the fact that even though this book is character-driven (which I love), it still manages to proceed with purpose, anchored to a plot, building in intensity and excitement as it approaches the grand finale. On a side note, I absolutely adored Julian Pappas-Fidicia. He is haughty, flamboyant and hilarious and I wish we were best friends in real life!

If I had any criticism to give, it would be that some of the sections describing Wes and Diana’s work seemed unnecessarily long and would benefit from a little editing. I found my attention wandering during those scenes and they weren’t (in my mind at least) pivotal to the movement of the story.

The Portrait of a Mirror is an ideal choice for readers that enjoy character-driven contemporary fiction with snappy dialogue and romantic entanglements set against the stylish backdrop of New York City’s art scene. This is an impressive debut novel and I look forward to seeing what Joukovsky has in store for us in the future.

I received an ARC of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Okay, so, here's the thing: I believe this book will be gobbled up and wholeheartedly CONSUMED among publishing circles, literary critics, and art lovers alike. In fact, it may be one I would well recommend to people I know who fit any of the aforementioned categories.

But, to be real, I honestly don't know how to describe the mixed-bag of emotions I felt while reading this. First, the book was much different than I was anticipating. I was not expecting the pretentious-quippy-internal-monologue feel of the writing or the fact that nothing much actually happens in the novel.

This book seems like it is intended to mock rich white elites while also managing to feel like it is only relatable or completely understandable BY rich elites. I mean, that in and of itself is a portrait of self-reflection, though maybe not one the author intended. If it was the intent, then there are a lot of people who may not be able to vibe with this story and all its upper-crust references and upper-echelon nuances.

I think most of the things that frustrated me with the novel were the exact intent of the author (i.e. the pompousness, etc.) But my response is probably not what the author is hoping to elicit in her readers.

The ending was given away halfway through the novel, in a sarcastic comment made between two characters (SPOILER: Dale and Diana saying that it is cliche to end a novel with a wedding which inevitably means the novel will end with Dale and Vivien's wedding), and this pulled me out of the narrative and pulled the plug on my driving need to find out what would happen. You know instinctively that Dale and Vivien will marry and Wes and Diana will stay together. However, I needed to feel a sense of completion, circularity, or SOMETHING with Wes and Diana, but never did. Which led to a further sense of frustration, because if there is no closure on their marriage why should I care about it at all?

By no means do I think Joukovsky is a bad writer. On the contrary, she has some interesting things to say about the human condition, and some little revelations the characters had —or the reader has about the characters themselves— were flawless and very well executed. I have no doubts she could become a strong voice in literary circles. Yet, I struggled with the writing. Some sentences or description sequences felt overlong, wordy, or occasionally rambly for the sole purpose of making a witty point. Which, might be fine in a short story format but was grating while reading an entire novel. But again, at certain points in the narrative, I found the writing style to be spot-on and flow easily. I often felt this book suffered from telling and not showing anything that was going on. There is nothing inherently wrong with this. It worked for the story Joukovsy was trying to portray, but ultimately I just wanted more.

I'm not sure I've ever felt so conflicted about a book. Did I love it? No. Did I hate it? No. Did I feel indifferent towards it?....No? I had strong feelings about the book, I am just still not quite sure how to untangle them. Ultimately, being a lover of Greek myth and art-as-life, life-as-art style stories, I think I set my personal expectations too high for this one.

This book will fall into a genre of reads I classify as caviar — divisive in preference, but strong to all who spoon a gulp.

Some will find it both a snapping critique of the state of culture and illuminating examination of the self within it. Others will bypass the art oozing out of every page’s pore and simply read it as a haughty and pretentious sentence of the Narcissus-illiterate.

I fall into the former camp, but share the latter’s unlearnedness. But if you’re hungry to learn, Portrait is of textbook depth about art, yes, but predominantly about relationships. And because it’s dense in epiphanies, it will be one I revisit and reflect. Revisit and reflect. Revisit and reflect.

Captivating caviar.

Oh, I loved this! It’s a clever story with colourful characters and humour I was not expecting. Beautifully written, the language is almost verse-like in its construction. I loved the modern take on a classic but this book really can really earn its own place in the literary world.

There is a lot to recommend this novel: bursts of laugh out loud humor, irony, an engaging overarching metaphor, arch cultural criticism, and clever dialogue. I understand the author's choice of style with the ornate vocabulary and digressions, but it slows the plot to an absolute crawl in their length. The digressions are almost Aaron Sorkin-like, if Aaron Sorkin also did a mountain of blow before sitting down to write. Tighter editing of these passages could help the pacing and preserve the intent.