Paint It Black: A Novel

That's not being melodramatic. I tried to like this book, I got to about page 60 before I could no longer take it. DO NOT waste your money on this. This book was so bad that i didn't want it on my bookshelf with the rest of what I currently own. Don't even bother, this is not even close in comparison with White Oleander, save your time, brain, and money.

I'm always nervous to start the sophomore novel by an author whose first novel I absolutely loved. I'm always scared that the second novel isn't going to measure up, that I'm going to be disappointed. And I was feeling especially nervous when I began Janet Fitch's new novel PAINT IT BLACK, because WHITE OLEANDER is one of my favorite novels. But as it turns out, I had absolutely nothing to worry about. PAINT IT BLACK exceeded my expectations in every way; in fact, not since I read THE KITE RUNNER a year and a half ago have I been so profoundly affected by a piece of fiction. PAINT IT BLACK is unequivocally a triumph.

The title of the novel is apt; Fitch truly does take us to the depths of darkness in PAINT IT BLACK. Her novel takes place in the early 1980s in Los Angeles, at the heart of the punk rock scene. Our heroine is 20-year-old Josie Tyrell, low-budget film actress and art model, a girl from a poor family in Bakersfield who ran away to find something better. And she did find something better in Los Angeles: a 22-year-old Ivy League dropout and wannabe artist named Michael, the son of a world-famous concert pianist and a respected writer. At the opening of the novel, Josie is waiting for Michael to come home; he left a week ago to go to his mother's house to paint for a few days, and she hasn't heard from him since. And then the police are on the phone, asking Josie to come identify a man who was found dead in a run-down motel far out in the desert, the victim of a self-inflicted shotgun wound in the head. It's Michael. Josie falls into darkness, her world turning to black. She retreats into a haze of vodka and pills, not caring if she lives or dies.

It is Josie's relationship with Michael's mother, Meredith, that both destroys and saves her. After Michael's death, Meredith and Josie are drawn together by the need to feel close to Michael; they are all each other has to remember him by. Like WHITE OLEANDER's Ingrid, Meredith is a woman who commands attention, startlingly beautiful, controlling and manipulative. In spite of herself, Josie feels herself being sucked into the world from which Michael was so desperate to escape. Each woman knew a different version of Michael and, in the months following her lover's death, Josie begins to realize that neither of them really knew his true self at all. Thus, it is Michael who emerges as the novel's most compelling character--even though we only get to know him after his death. In PAINT IT BLACK, Fitch takes readers on a journey through the soul's deepest, darkest depths, as Josie struggles to find meaning in Michael's death--and in her own life.

PAINT IT BLACK is one of the most beautifully-written and moving stories about grief that I have ever read. Fitch has created an intriguing character in Josie, who is both gritty and somehow innocent, remarkably strong and also vulnerable. The novel's atmosphere feels startlingly authentic, giving readers a glimpse into a raw world that manages to feel both real and surreal. The prose is hypnotic, intense, and alluring. The story's timeline is fluid; Fitch delves back and forth in time with ease, and her narrative style is heavy on detail, description, and sensory impressions. PAINT IT BLACK is enviously well-written, beautifully crafted, and incredibly affecting, with lots of "wow" moments. It's a lot to take in, and maybe not a book for the eternal optimist, but readers who take Fitch's journey will find that the payoff is huge, with an ending that doubles as an unexpected beginning for our heroine. PAINT IT BLACK is the best novel I've read this year.

Here's hoping Janet Fitch doesn't let seven more years pass before her next masterpiece!

After reading "White Oleander" which I placed in the category of "magnificent", I was highly disappointed by this novel. Josie Tyrell's boyfriend, Michael, commits suicide at a seedy motel, causing her to spiral down into a great depression.The entire book is about how she deals/ not deals with this incident.It seems as though the author tries to get the reader's attention by the use of rough language and some absolutely gross scenes rather than the plot.
I persevered to the end, where at the last paragraph of the last chapter there was a sliver of hope for Josie. For the most part the story was depressingly slow but admittedly it picked up for short periods and that was usually when the plot included Meredith, Michael's mother.
I noted many excellent descriptions and unique use of words. However if one has nothing to say, the fact that it is beautifully said doesn't "cut it" with me.

I waited and waited for Janet Fitch to write another novel, as I think she may be cast as one of the best writers of our age. The way she uses language makes it soar off the page; the writing is beautiful even when the subject matter is not. And this is true in Paint It Black. The main character in this novel is not one I felt much empathy or sympathy for, unlike the main character in Fitch's first novel White Oleander. But, that didn't stop me from feeling compelled to read the novel, almost nonstop. Fitch delves into the ravages of grief and the way people process the death of a loved one in all its brutal agony and violent mixture of emotions. She brings the pain to life, making it another character in the story. This is the reason I loved this book--the chance to be reminded that grief is complicated and living is even more complicated.

Let me start by saying that I LOVED "White Oleander" It is certainly a book I would list in my top 10 favorite books. When I saw this book and noticed it was by the same author, I couldn't wait to buy it and read it. The book started off well enough, bringing the reader into the 1980's right after the death of John Lennon, but as soon as the main character finds out her boyfriend has killed himself, the novel falls flat on its face. With a story line such as that, it would make sense to create a character the reader would actually care about and want to root for, yet I found myself hating the main character as she went from liquor store after liqour store buying "voddy", as she called it, and consuming illegeal and legal drugs. The book is such a depressing novel, with no scenes to pull the reader out of the depression they are thrust in by Ms. Fitch, that I was unable to make myself finish the novel. I would not recommend this book to anyone.

What happens to those left behind after a suicide? Janet Fitch answers this question in her sophomore novel, PAINT IT BLACK.

Josie Tyrell is a young art model from a poor family. Her world descends into emotional chaos the day the Los Angeles County Coroner's Office informs her that her lover, Michael Faraday, committed suicide. Michael's mother, the renowned pianist Meredith Loewy, has shunned Josie ever since their first meeting when Michael announced he was dropping out of Harvard. Grief provides a tenuous link between the two women as Josie rebuilds her life in a struggle to rediscover the dreams she once shared with Michael.

PAINT IT BLACK is a dark novel that vividly portrays the pain of a grieving woman and her lover's mother. Grief transcends socio-economic levels, and Ms. Fitch clearly demonstrates this as she intertwines the grieving processes of Josie and Meredith. Michael's father is a secondary character, and yet his grieving process provides a sharp contrast to the two women.

Josie's anguished quest to find some meaning or reason behind Michael's death strikes a dark chord, deeply buried in the reader. The raw emotions of PAINT IT BLACK are often painful to read as the agony is so true to life. Josie's alcohol and drug induced haze may offend some readers but the overwhelming depth of the emotional suffering is very realistic.

Janet Fitch's follow up to the wildly successful WHITE OLEANDER is a gut wrenching tale that will disturb some readers while providing a sort of therapy for others. Josie's descent into a dark depression is so vivid it hurts. The lyrical prose is haunting with the intensity of the emotions conveyed. However, Janet Fitch offers some redeeming kernels that make PAINT IT BLACK one of the most vivid, realistic portrayals of the aftermath of a suicide. PAINT IT BLACK is not an easy read, but it is one that leaves its mark on the reader forever.

COURTESY OF CK2S KWIPS AND KRITIQUES

Paint It Black is Janet Fitch's long-awaited novel following her smashing success, White Oleander. I absolutely loved White Oleander and hung on its every poetic word that told an ugly tale with great beauty. Paint it Black is no White Oleander; "Black" is more barren and seemingly hopeless than "Oleander," and the salvation of Black rests on the word *seemingly*.

I just finished Black and I must say, the ending brought tears to my eyes. While I read the book, I got tired of Josie and her travails. I wanted her to "get over it and move on, dammit" and it's a great credit to Fitch's skill as a novelist that the story made me realize in the end that the book is about Josie's process and what she has to go through to get to where she finally arrives.

I won't recap the plot here. Enough folks have already done that. I will say that the journey is definitely worth it all the way to the end, to see how Josie processes her denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance of Michael's suicide. We see what she learned from the journey and that it was worth it.

I'm so glad I stuck with it to the end. I wanted to stand up and cheer for the girl, but don't think you can cheat and just go read the final chapter to find out how it turns out. You can't--there's no shortcut. You have to take the entire journey for the ending to have power.

I highly recommend Paint It Black.

Poor Janet Fitch. White Oleander was a great book that beautifully portrayed the story of a young girl as she interacts with her surroundings. I believe Fitch had every intention of doing the same with Josie, but failed miserably. The book is beyond repetitious and never actually gets anywhere. This could have possibly worked as a short story. There is no climax, there is no plot line, there is no story. The minor characters are underdeveloped and weak and add next to nothing to Josie's story. Even the setting of the 80's seems irrelevant most of the time. This was a huge disappointment, but I still managed to read the entire book just hoping and waiting for something profound and interesting to happen; sadly, that never came. Don't waste your time reading this book unless you enjoy being bored, frustrated and depressed.

..the person she loved just committed suicide. I wonder why anyone bothered complaining that the book was so sad. That aside, I enjoyed this book. I think it started off a little bit slow and it felt to me like maybe the author was having somewhat of a hard time finding the voice of her character in the beginning. I also noticed that in the beginning, there were LOTS of musical references. Not just "she picked up a record" or something, but long lists of band names. I was minorly annoyed by it, but that fell away pretty quickly.

I do have another small complaint. It really bothered me that Josie called smirnoff "smirny" or "voddy," and cigarettes "ciggies". I think it was supposed to show that she felt a strange affection for the substances, but it still irritated me.

**minor spoiler ahead**

overall, it was a good book. I loved how Meredith's character sort of forced Josie to face everything that happened, to make decisions and ultimately choose not to run away like she had before, but to start taking care of and learning about herself. I liked the way in which Josie came to her revelation at the end of the book, and the hint of new beginning. Josie's narrative (albeit third person, not first person) stuck in my head for a few days after I read it. That, to me, is a sign of a well-written character.

Don't not read this book if you're depressed-- just don't read this book if you can't handle a realistic story about an emotional journey in the aftermath of suicide.

I loved "White Oleander" and that's the main reason I read "Paint It Black". I very rarely post book reviews on line, but I felt like sharing my thoughts (or giving you a warning) about this one: This book is truly one of the MOST DEPRESSING books I have ever read.

I feel like "Paint It Black" should have a WARNING on its cover: although it is well written, the plot and the characters can make even a cheerful person contemplate suicide... This book is ENTIRELY about suicide, death, incest, alcohol/drug abuse, depression, loneliness, despair, tragedy... and the list goes on.

I definitely wouldn't recommend this book to anyone I know who might be even slightly "under the weather" (I can't imagine what it might do to a really depressed person). Definitely NOT your idea of "beach/summer reading" (although if you feel like you still want to read this novel, I guess it's probably better to do it in the sunshine than in the midst of a gloomy winter... the story is gloomy & depressing enough).

There's not much action/plot - it's entirely about a suicide of a young man, and the destruction it wrecks on the lives of his girlfriend and mother. If it wasn't for the fact that the novel is quite well-written, I'd say that it is rather boring (unless, of course, if you're really depressed and/or suicidal yourself... but then there is always the chance that even if you aren't, you might become so by the time you reach the end of this book).

After reading White Oleander and falling in love with Fitch's poetic style of prose I couldn't wait for her second novel. Yet at the same time I feared that she would fall into the trap of so many best selling authors by sticking to the same story line and predictability of their characters. My fears were eased at reading the very first lines.

Not only is her protagonist very different, so are Fitch's words. She manages to bring poetic rythms and beautiful prose to a punk rock world of drugs, sex and hard words. Josie is a well crafted character, she reminded me of certain people I knew when I was about that age (at around the same time the story takes place.) While she isn't a "likeable character" in the same way Astrid in White Oleander is, it isn't hard to see beyond her tough exterior and understand that she is very sensitive and vulnerable. I think most people can relate to that feeling of having to act tough to drink and swear to appear as if all's fine.

For Josie, as for so many people who lose loved ones to suicide, Michael's death brings up that vulnerability she tries so hard to hide. She can no-longer hide from herself and from Michael's reality. She can either face it, or like Michael, take the easy way out life and as she takes us through her grieving process she choses to walk into a very different and very real life.

One reviewer described her feelings after reading this book as "flat" and I can completely relate to that. I can't decide if this is a terrible book or a work of genius. The life that Fitch describes really existed back in that time, in that social scene. It's more common for people to write about characters peripheral to the art scene in New York and that makes this book unusual for being set in L.A. Josie Tyrell most certainly exists somewhere in that time and so might Meredith Loewy, but to me they all feel like they themselves were left on the wall for the Austrian girl to wipe away.

Over and over as I read this book I was reminded of Kate Braverman's "Lithium for Medea" set in Venice with some similar overlays--the dead cat, the art culture, the screen of drugs blurring the protagonist's ability to deal with the real world, the bitter disappointed older woman with her own kind of pain in the background, the hovering spectre of a significant male's death (or impending death).

I will read this book again. Heck, if I decide it's a work of genius, I might even write another review. :)

I do have one factual bone to pick with Fitch, though. Someone who dies in Twenty Nine Palms doesn't end up in the L.A. County Coroner's office. And Josie wouldn't be considered his next of kin by any stretch of the imagination. Perhaps this silly error was too much for me to trip over before I entered the tiny bungalow where Josie and Michael once lived.

And my other tiny criticism is that I think it was sort of anti-hip to quote an actual couplet from the Stones song on the inside cover. If that song doesn't immediately leap to mind when you see the title, I can't imagine why you would pick up the book.

Having said that, one thing I love about Fitch is her ability to write from the drawing hand and mind of the visual artist. I've never seen it done better.

This was disappointing. After all the good reviews I read about this book, I should have known. To me, this was just a drug induced bunch of babble. There was kind of a plot. A young girl, Josie, loses her boyfriend to suicide. His mother is a controlling witch who hates Josie but needs her to learn about the Michael she didn't know the last few years. The story telling was just not there. The book was really just a bunch of disorganized thoughts. This book was just not my cup of tea. I am not a big fan of authors who focus more on a play of words than they do telling a story.

Wow what a book! Fitch has out done herself again! Once I started the book, I couldn't put it down! I read the whole thing from 5pm to 10:30pm. The only other time that I have read a book in that style was when Harry Potter 4 1st came out. Only with Paint It Black, the drive to read it boarders on being an adiction that is harder than hearon to break! So buy a copy, sit on your sofa & 'shoot-up' Fitch's new book Paint It Black. The story is fiction but feels like a true life memoir. But don't you fear, "it's only a paper moon".

Janet Fitch's descriptions and prose leave little to the imagination and she creates a punk world that is so graphic and believable that it could very well be called a work of genius. The first half of the book read smoothly, as Josie struggles to deal with the after-effects of Michael's death. I could vividly feel her emotions as she began to learn that the man she loved so strongly was not exactly who he seemed.

The one problem I had was with the second half. I felt that she dealt too much with Josie's feelings for Michael. Living in Josie's head for the entire book, she became sort of unsympathetic to me. All she did was flounder around, thinking about Michael and while that is certainly believable in reality, it is not all that interesting to read two hundred pages of it. I even found myself skimming parts while she was staying with Meredith, lounging by the pool or smoking in the study, because it got so bogged down with her thoughts that I nearly got depressed myself!

A young woman takes a dark journey through punk-era Los Angeles to make sense of her lover's suicide in Janet Fitch's novel, Paint It Black. Set in Los Angeles in 1981, this is the story of Josie Tyrell, artist's model, fledgling actress and worshipful girlfriend of Michael Faraday. Not yet twenty-one, Josie is sent reeling when, in the opening pages of the book, Michael kills himself in a motel room in Twentynine Palms. The only child of renowned writer Cal Faraday and world-famous concert pianist Meredith Loewy, Michael was born into a world of artistic aristocrats that Josie, who fled her uneducated Bakersfield family while still a teenager, can't even imagine. For a year and a half, these two misfit-runaways found sanctuary in each other. In a cottage in the Echo Park hills, Josie and Michael danced to ragtime records, cooked each other meals, painted each other and made love until the rest of the world receded into the background. With Michael's unexpected suicide, Josie is suddenly alone with only memories of their love and a handful of unexplained questions about his past. Now, Josie is forced to piece together the mystery of his death, exploring a world Michael never allowed her to see, while also asking the very real and terrifying question: Who is Josie Tyrell without Michael Faraday?

Janet Fitch is no stranger to adolescent angst. Her first novel, White Oleander, a National bestseller and Oprah's Book Club Notable, followed the story of foster child Astrud Magnusun as she careened in and on out of houses and lives over an eight year span. In Paint it Black, Fitch returns to her native Los Angeles terrain to explore the creative and destructive duality involved in defining one's identity. At the start of the novel, Josie is handed the project of not only overcoming the loss of the man she loves, but also establishing a sense of self-worth that is independent from that relationship. "Michael ... couldn't see how ordinary she was. It was just when she was around him, she was smarter, original. He was like those magnets that changed the shape of the filings, made them stand up like hair. But now, she was back on her own." Fitch strips Josie of all her weapons and defenses (in one symbolic scene, Josie must walk naked down a Topanga road for an acting job) and throws her into the drug-riddled, class-conscious LA jungle. How will she survive?

The main conflict of the novel is between Josie and Meredith Loewy, a lonely diva of Dickensian proportions. When Michael was alive, Meredith had openly despised her son's working class girlfriend. After his death, these two women find themselves drawn together as they mourn the loss of a boy no else knew. But who was Michael really? Was he Josie's bohemian lover, skilled in Japanese tea ceremonies and oil paints? Or did he in fact belong to Meredith Loewy? And what was the nature of that mother/son relationship? Fitch is unafraid of taboos, and here the novel takes bold steps into marginal terrain. Both afraid and in awe of Meredith, Josie's need to understand Michael draws her deep into this woman's life. While in the opening pages Meredith physically attacks Josie at Michael's gravesite, by its end Josie must decide whether or not to accompany Meredith, as her "daughter-in-law", on a world tour beginning in Paris. In this way, Josie comes as close as possible to losing herself altogether, to merging as fully as possible with her dead lover, and sets the stage for a dramatic act of self-definition that is imperative to her survival.

An obvious danger established by the premise, Paint It Black is at times maudlin. The amount of vodka and cigarettes Josie consumes alone are enough to make a reader ill, and Josie's on-the-brink-of-breakdown mental state gets redundant at 400 pages. Still, Fitch has a beautiful gift for language and imagery, and the narrative is gripping. A skilled historian, Fitch's rendering of Los Angeles in the aftermath of John Lennon's assassination is filled with fun punk band references and old LA landmarks while avoiding nostalgia. And into the well-worn genre of first love fiction, she raises questions that stand out from the crowd: Is death bigger than love? How does the world become a place you can no longer live? And is there life after love? Fitch does not reach for the easy answers. The revelations are hard won, surprising and satisfying.

This is a truly beautiful book.

You feel every weighted emotion Josie goes through, your heart taken by a hold so strong that you almost understand what it would feel like for your one true love, the one thing you cherished most, to commit suicide unexpectedly. How do you put together the pieces of a world fallen apart?

But the real basis of this story is passionate and unwavering love. A love the guides you in the understanding of life and the people that make up the world around you. A love that teaches you to see the world in color after only seeing black and white. A love that will never fade even though the body does.

Whole and complete, fulfilling in every way, Paint it Black is my favorite book and one of the most worthwhile reads you will ever encounter. It's true art and Janet Finch never ceases to amaze me with the exquisitely crafted stories she tells.

Read it, you will not be disappointed.

I've waited 5 years for White Oleander author Janet Fitch's next book, but when I read the description of Paint It Black--a triangle of a young female protagonist (Josie Tyrell), a powerful older woman (Meredith Loewy), and action driven by the death of the man in the triangle (Michael Faraday, Meredith's son)--basically the formulae of White Oleander, I was ready to be disappointed. But the similarly stops at that broad generalization, and Janet Fitch does not disappoint. Josie, a trail park refugee from Bakersfield, now a punker artists' model in LA, meets Michael Faraday, the genius son of world famous concert pianist Meredith Loewy, and falls in love. He loves her as well, but can't escape the pervasive influence of his domineering mother, except through suicide. As Josie and Meredith struggle to understand Michael's death, their lives become intertwined. Through the struggle of this unlikely couple, the sophisticate and worldly mother and the "white trash" punk, the multi-layered and paradoxical character of Michael is revealed.

The characters of Paint It Black are all sparsely rendered, but the book is not so much about them as it is about the space Michael creates by his suicide. Interestingly, while Michael is the dead engine that drives this story, he is also the most realized character. Meredith is clear enough, but she is also a foil, driving Michael to suicide, with Josie becoming trapped in her imperious orbit as a result. And if Josie seems incomplete, it's intentional, "her idiocy, so enormous, its gravity field alone would crush anything for light-years around."

Fitch indeed paints it black, but Michael had loved Josie and had tried to show her "the true world", a world of simple beauty--a heron beside the river at dawn. It is a world that he himself lost sight of, but the darkest ugliness cannot exist without beauty, and Josie finds a glimmer of this beauty by passing through the blackness created by Michael's death. I've read a number of reviews that compare Paint It Black negatively to White Oleander, but I find the comparison unfair, since despite their similarities, the two works are simply too different, revealing Fitch to be a talented and versatile writer. I hope I don't have to wait until 2015 for her next book, but if that's what it takes to produce something comparable, the wait will have been worth it.

This book was beautifully written, and you can slip into the voice of the character most effortlessly. It's a book that months after reading I still recall passages and images from frequently. This book was so enchanting that I didn't want to put it down, and didn't want it to end, but I related so closely with the main character that I actually became depressed reading it!

Regardless, a great book from a great writer, but certainly not a light read.

I really enjoyed this book. I liked White Oleander and when I saw this thought it would be similar. It's been awhile since I read it and would like to read it again but from what I remember it's very dark and a little sporadic but that helps accomplish the author's goal. It does a very good job portraying the thoughts of the main character. You really feel like you are in her head most of the book.

I loved White Oleander...this book doesn't really compare. It's not that it's a bad book, it just was very depressing and the depression went on and on. I WAS sympathetic to Josie's pain yet I also thought that she was mentally pretty messed up to begin with. Like some of the other reviewers, I did have to kind of push myself to get through the end of the book...it got so I just wanted it to end so I could move onto something better. The end where she tries to reenact Michael's final moves just was really depressing. There's a place for depressing stories but I wouldn't recommend this to someone who is going through a depressing time in their life. The end made me feel more of that hopelessness although I think the author might have meant it as an ending with hope.

Josie's ironic stream of conciousness shows her recent creash course in high culture...brill how its interwoven with punk scene anti intellectuallism and brutal reality. Meredith as narcissistic personality is classic and utterly believeable and terrifying. Son is narcissist in training but doesnt have the heart for it. Ming theme redolant...not repititious. Poetic as Transsiberian. You dont need to get all the allusions but it helps.

Highly recommend.

...for the cognoscenti

White Oleander is one of my favourite novels. Paint it Black seems like it was written by a different author altogether.
I didn't care about the characters. Josie is so one-dimensional and pathetic that I didn't care what happened to her. I simply did not feel for her.
I read this book once, and felt very disappointed. It was a chore to actually finish the book, and I found myself just scanning pages towards the end instead of reading them. I picked it up again last night, (over two years later) and tried reading it again. I thought maybe I could just enjoy it this time for what it was, but about 45 pages into it I tossed the book aside.
If you want to actually read a good novel about similar subject matter, read Morvern Callar.
Morvern Callar

In another beautiful novel by Janet Fitch, the main character Josie Tyrell takes the reader on a vivid trip through the landscape of 1980s Los Angeles and the nearby desert. As Josie deals with her lover's recent death, she navigates through the punk and art scenes as well as the elite, wealthy world of her lover's icy mother. The book boasts an intriguing central character, dynamic and dark relationships, and imagery that will leave indelible images of Los Angeles imprinted in readers' minds.

"Paint it Black" sadly falls into the sophmore novel slump. It appears Fitch was trying to out-do "The White Oleander," and while her prose are still beautiful, the work itself is repetitive (and the themes repetitive of "Oleander"), and the main character is so annoying that it is hard to find any sympathy for her. This was an issue in "Oleander" as well, but the rest of the story was strong enough to support it. "Paint it Black" is not. Hopefully Fitch will get back on track with her next novel.

The same carefully considered portraiture of characters that Ms. Fitch brought to "White Oleander" can also be found in "Paint it Black," but I found the setting and era of "Paint it Black" to be more relevant and realistic. True, it's not a setting for the mainstream, so some may find it unrelatable. But for music aesthetes of all kinds but particularly for those who remember fondly the late seventies and early eighties punk and new wave culture, this book provides a rare and welcome reflection that has been little referenced in literature.

Ms. Fitch follows the journey of the girlfriend and the mother of a suicide victim. As in "White Oleander," she takes the time to sort out and make you understand the complex interpersonal dynamics that developed to the present mental state of all the characters and how each copes with their own version of reality and learn to understand each other's.

Lest you think this is a depressing journey without relief, rest assured Janet Fitch's bright and edgy writing never fails to let in the light and humor, because that's how it is in real life, isn't it? Somehow we all manage a laugh or two. And that's what this is about, finding our way and moving on.

The first time I read "Paint it Black," I enjoyed it, but felt it just couldn't compare to the love I feel for Fitch's first novel "White Oleander." But everytime I read I feel closer to the novel, and notice little details I didn't notice before. I'm drawn deeper and deeper in every time. It is true, as other reviewers have remarked, that "Paint it Black" doesn't have much plot or action, but I don't see this as a bad thing- this is simply that type of novel. If you need action and plot to keep your attention, definately pick up another book. This book deals more with memories and the emotional hell Josie goes though, goes very deeply into it in fact. Perhaps this is why the novel gets better for me everytime. With every reading Josie and her feelings become more real, and I can deal with her emotions from a more personal persepective. I like one of the themes Fitch touches on throughout the book- whether someone who has tragedy in her life truly deserves more pity than someone who has absolutely nothing in her life. This really strikes a cord for me. I love the references Fitch makes to old music and movies, something she did a lot in "White Oleander." It is truly beautiful and brings a glamour to her novels. Since a love old music so much it's good to know it's not completely dead in the present. I couldn't help but relate to the character Michael in the book, perhaps this is why I couldn't help but dislike him. I really reccomend this book, but only to someone who knows they can deal with a slower-paced novel. I wouldn't want someone who doesn't to read it and trash it for what it doesn't, and think it should, have- this is simpy another type of novel. Also keep in mind, this book is really depressing and it ends the same way.

I totally agree with everything the "one star" reviews said about this book! Ok I get it, Josie. You're small, pretty, ...whorish. Yes and your little brat boyfriend killed himself...and his mother is moody...blah blah blah. Your car is a piece of crap, you go to punk clubs, you cry alot, every little thing reminds you of Michael and you spend 2 freaking pages describing it, just before devoting another 4 pages to more of the same. I've been skipping pages 2 or 3 at a time, scanning for something lurking in a paragraph somewhere that may be in any way different from the 2 chapters before it. All I've found is bits and pieces of plot here and there, and more redundant blabbering about her poor poor dead boyfriend and her pathetic little life. I'm afraid that for the first time ever, I will not be able to hold out long enough to actually finish this book. Usually I hate putting down a book without at least finding out what happens in the end, but for this one I could honestly care less. I need likeable characters (I can only really get into a book if I can either identify with or find interest in at least ONE character), I need an actual plot! This book has offered neither. I loved White Oleander...but I wonder what Finch was thinking with this one.

This author has matured since the great White Oleander...PTB is absolutely beautiful...this novel is so California, that I suspect it may not resonate as well in other parts of the world.Josie is an okie from Bakersfield....there is a whole story right there...that I would of like to have fleshed out a little more...she is bright enough to be totally enlightened by Michaels musings of the true world...Love their experiance...her grief is palpable...the LA descriptions are priceless...driving through the old sections Josie absorbes the quaint Christmas Eve vignettes...the old craftman houses with their humble lights and dry So Cal trees...you can smell the overcooked turkeys...she describes the stars in the sooty dry sky as twinkling like the white flecks on an old blue roasting pan....gotta love it.Just read it...it as not as comercially appealing as WO perhaps...but is really a masterpiece...and I can already visualize the movie.

Drawing us into her stunning prose, author Janet Fitch asks: How can you save someone when he didn't let you know him? In her latest novel Paint It Black, Fitch explores the abundant territory of loneliness, pain and regret as her main protagonist, model and aspiring student actress Josie Tyrell embarks on a willing journey of self-annihilation after the suicide of her art student boyfriend.

Born into a world of wealth and privilege, Michael Faraday was the son of world famous concert pianist Meredith Loewy. It's a life of international travel and fame, swank private schools in Ojai, and unsullied expectations, studying at Harvard was taken for granted. Josie is devastated when Michael is found with a bullet through his head, his body lying in a room at the seedy Paradise Inn hotel out at Twenty Nine Palms.

With Michael Josie thought she had finally found her one true love. But now that he his gone she is plagued by self-doubt and confused by the reasons why Michael decided to kill himself. As Josie struggles to hold on to the memories of their life together amongst the denizens of Echo Park - "a couple of bohemians, living on air, scornful of the comfort and power money could buy" - she attends his funeral where she runs into Michael's mother.

Meredith isn't reacting well to her son's enigmatic death; she holds Josie accountable for her son's anguish and suffering. During the service Meredith loses it and tries to strangle Josie, screaming at her, accusing her of murdering Michael. And later back at Josie's Echo Park home, the older woman telephones, threatening her and then soon after tries to run the poor girl over.

While Meredith becomes ever more needy, her life of control and privilege steadily unraveling, Josie becomes increasingly attracted to this strange and perfectionistic woman with her expensive pearls, luxurious accoutrements, and her implicit richness. Seduced by Meredith's trappings of class and culture and her effortless sophistication, Josie admits that there's a part of her who wants the life that Michael had.

Meredith is all too quick to label Josie as an unsophisticated and trashy white girl from Bakersfield, an "Oke" who will never amount to anything. She despises Josie, for her main crime of loving her son - loving him, "but not loving him enough to save him." A dramatic turn of events forces Josie and Meredith to face some painful truths about themselves. Ultimately they are both confronted with the knowledge that they have no control over the aftermath of Michael's death.

When Meredith asks Josie a strange favour, Josie finally gets her enticing glimpse of Meredith's glamorous world, once also Michael's world. Meredith had grown up with famous people - Billy Wilder and Isherwood, Garbo - and now her son is dead and she's stuck talking to a cheap girl like Josie Tyrell, ironically she's the only one who knew him.

Trying to find answers, Josie turns to Calvin Faraday, Michael's father, who confesses that his son was always an angry person; he tells Josie "that you're exactly what he needed." But as the ramifications that Michael is never coming back begin to sink in, Josie loads up on vodka and percodets, dope and cocaine. Blind, deaf and mute, she falls into the darkness, desperately trying to immolate herself.

Fitch manages to bury deep into the heart of Josie and Meredith's inner lives, especially Josie as she's swept up in the pathetic, the vulnerable and the senseless. Both women clash over the small agonies of rivalry, fighting over the detritus of Michael's life, the paintings he'd given up on, and the books he'd stopped reading, the "journals whispering in the dark." Perhaps it is Meredith who finally sees the truth, climbing the stairs in her son's nightmares, bearing the world's strange cargo in her arms.

Set in Los Angeles in 1981, the novel is a tour de force of imagery and metaphor, a profound work of literary fiction that brings this inscrutable city to life. The characters in Paint it Black are living on the verge, reveling in the regrets of the past and in the sadness of the present. In Michael's death there are many more punishments in store for Josie and Meredith, everyday something new.

Neither woman could really handle the nakedness, vulnerability and repercussions of Michael's rage, so well camouflaged, so sophisticated and finely tuned, but they also fully hold close their fates even if they are reluctant to do so.

Meredith finds solace in her music, whilst Josie begins to retrace the steps of Michael's life. Written with a startling emotional clarity and insight, Paint it Black is an intricate and nuanced exploration of the effects of death "spreading out as a feat of loss with ever more courses." Mike Leonard September 06.

"Paint it Black" captures that throbbing ache that is being a young girl faced with a great tragedy...made worse by the fact that the tragedy is a Prince Charming-ish first love. Josie, the art model main character, longs, pines, grieves with keen intensity. Her process of mourning is set against a vibrant back drop of 80s punk/alt Los Angeles. Plenty emo. Though the backdrop is vibrant and exciting, the reader can't help but feel the emptiness of this scene when reminded of the heroine's loss. When you don't have that special person to keep sharing life with, is anything worthwhile?
Fitch also crosses into territory that is much in need of exploration in terms of class. This book delineates class differences in America in a very real way...no one talks about this enough. We blindly pretend it doesn't matter. Josie finds out in subtle ways how it does and when it doesn't.
In all, an excellent read for those who dare dive into emotional waters and Angelenophiles.

Josie Tyrell was thoroughly, madly in love with Michael Faraday. It was a classic "other side of the tracks" setup: she was the poor, punked-out art model; he was the son of famous parents. Josie thought they'd enjoy their Bohemian lifestyle for years to come--until she got the call.

Life as Josie knows it shatters when Michael's body is found at a desolate motel. He shot himself in the head, an artist no more. Bone-crushing grief, only somewhat numbed by drugs and booze, is second only to his mother's vicious hatred of Josie. Yet Meredith and Josie are inexplicably drawn to each other, each reaching for some remnant of their lost Michael; some meaning from his death.

Josie trips along the edge of sanity while constantly dealing with Meredith's manipulations. Does the woman want to kill her or make her replace Michael? Does Josie even care? Maybe all that's left is Stoli, Gauloise ciggies, and whatever pills she can buy. Surely, a drug haze is better than reality. If she can just hope hard enough, maybe it'll have been a nightmare, and maybe Michael won't really be dead. But as she learns more about the great love of her life, she finds that he wasn't everything he seemed to be.

Where's the meaning in Michael's death? IS there meaning? Maybe Meredith was right, and Josie should have died instead. These are just a few of the questions facing a young, lost woman in the aftermath of tragedy.

Fitch's hypnotic style pulls readers along the difficult road of Josie's coming of age. She holds nothing back, not the anguish, not the confusion, and not the hopelessness that plague the broken girl in Josie. The writing is as harsh as the emotion, harsh enough that sensitive readers will shy from the language and prolific drug use. But if readers look past the "wrong" choices Josie makes, they will see a near-dead girl slowly grow and bloom into an astonishing new woman.

This is not a fairy tale, and Josie's problems aren't miraculously solved by the end. Instead, the end becomes a beginning, a beginning that will allow Josie to see a new road of unexpectedly brilliant possibilities.

Reviewed by Christina Wantz Fixemer

9/21/2006

"Paint it Black" is a novel which is especially poignant for those late end Baby Boomers who lived through the punk rock era of the early eighties. This novel is a time capsule which captures the angst, grittiness, and seedy underbelly of the punk movement through the eyes of a young woman in crisis.

Fitch not only captures the essence of the early eighties punk scene, she skillfully creates multi-layered contrasts between head bashing ballads and chamber music quartets, communal flophouses/L.A. Mansions, paintings of Monmarte/a desolate desert town.

Fitch creates a perfect portrait of a middle-aged narcissitic performer and her opposite, a young art model from a poor family. The complex relationship that develops between the two women over a common crisis

is expertly crafted.

The character of Josie, a young woman on the verge of either drowning or reinventing herself is memorable.

With her second novel "Paint it Black", Fitch has also again covered a difficult issue, the ulimate selfish act and its destructive path of whys and what ifs.

I think with this novel Janet Fitch has made an important literary contribution, not just for the story, but for the time period it so perfectly captures.

I was introduced to this author when the book club I attend chose another book she wrote. What this book is lacking in plot, which is a criticism I could agree with, it makes up for in character development. I believe the book is set in the 1980s, a time when I was only a small child, but the author's ability to pull me into that era with all of my senses made it a delicious experience. It proves that it is worthwhile to simply take each work of art for what it is and what you experience from it. After Paint it Black, I can't wait to read more.

After about 100 pages, it gets really old dealing with Josie Tyrell. She is just so... annoying. That goes for her dead boyfriend as well.

I suppose the point is that we all deal with our own inner pains in our own ways, but Jeez!

I love the author's use of very poetic prose, but I sometimes get a pretentious feel from her. As if she wants us to know that she is writing harsh, edgy literary fiction, and she is willing to throw in lots of sex just to prove it.

The ending has an overly bright, although a nicely vague, ending. Unfortunately you have to wade through a lot of dull everyday wierdness to get to it.

Janet Finch is amazing. She turns sentences into works of art and in order to appreciate them you must be intelligent. To rate this book at a 1 or 2 is totally unfair to the potential reader and author. One must be able to appreciate the dark side of the human soul and the complexity with which the human mind struggles to do the right thing. If you enjoy an author that totally amazes you with her talent and characters who are troubled, you will really enjoy this book! I hope it doesn't take Janet as long to write her 3rd book as it did her 2nd.

After 100 pages, we get it: the main character is very distraught, angry, and freaked out that her boyfriend is dead. These kinds of emotions can be understood for ourselves, but reading this over and over and over results in a tedious and boring novel. i quit at page 100. and i agree with at least one other reviewer that authors need to stop repeating their cute little eccentricities for certain words--in this case "voddy" for vodka.

So many, it seems, have lambasted this book and have said it does not compare to Ms. Fitch's first blockbuster, White Oleander. However, if you can read this as a separate entity and not draw endless parallels to White Oleander, you will realize its merit. The positives are that everything from the book's title to the prose truly evoke the 80's excesses and emptiness. Not since Brett Easton Ellis', American Psycho, has a novel so accurately etched the landscape and the sensibility of the era. In addition, this is a book about the aftermath of suicide and the feelings of denial, betrayal and anguish that are felt by the survivors. In that sense it is very accurate and Ms. Fitch's brilliant contrast of Josie's and Meredith's worlds further delineates the 80's era.

The negatives are that the novel gets far too repetitive and starts to meander midway through. Ms. Fitch seems to get far too enamored of her prose and it can be quite distracting and detract, overall, from the story. Also, Josie, as the main protagonist, seems far too wise and profound for such a young girl.

All that said, there are those who thought the ending of the book a bit too pat and unbelievable. Unfortunately, they may have missed the real point of the book and what Josie actually gained from her relationship with Michael.

I loved white oleander, like everyone else here, i'm sure, and looked forward to this. But where White Oleander had a captivating, moving plot, a fascinating strong character and a vein of truth, Paint it Black is just a long, self-involved novel on a depressed girl who yearns for a character we as a reader don't understand (so we don't care he's dead) the 'complex' relationship with his mother is just boring and the setting in thr 80's is just strange and unnecessary--a little cool, yes, but it doesn't make the story any more endearing.

So yes, I agree with another reviewer by saying that this book left me feeling very flat and disappointed, and the plot just never seemed to eventuate. It was written well and Janet Fitch is wonderful at descriptions but it left me with a dirty feeling, whilst white oleande left me rejuvinated, empowered, awed...

White Oleander is probably one of my favorite books and now so is this one. Fitch creates a world so vivid, I felt like I was there in Josie and Michael's apartment. The fact that I disliked Michael as a person (and I'm not sure we were meant to like him) did not damped my desire to stay enveloped in this novel. I wanted to live in this world. I wanted to take Josie home with me and take care of her myself. I was actually sad as I read this novel because I knew I was burning through it too fast!

I read this after White Oleander, and found it much, much better. I love Fitch's prose but the plot of White Oleander was quite tiresome and the heroines unsympathetic, cold. Paint it Black is written in third person, which makes it less quasi autobiographical. The characters are real, like people who actually could exist, instead of the fantasy literary constructs of White Oleander. The symbolism is applied with a lighter hand and doesn't obscure the incredibly beautiful and highly insightful prose that kept me reading White Oleander despite its deficits.

The plot also has more forward momentum. Michael starts out as a sympathetic character and slowly devolves into a creep. Josie becomes fleshed out. Marilyn is not so well defined and I felt the author was avoiding doing the job of filling in the lines.

The only objection I have is the constant drinking and drug use all the characters engage in. This book could be read as a user's instruction manual. This is informative to people who aren't part of that culture, but my gut feeling - is irresponsible on the part of the author towards impressionable readers. Josie smokes cigarettes constantly - the book deserves a warning label. As far as the sex is concerned,there isn't much. What there is, is realistic, gritty, not overblown, and I think worthy of praise for its portrayal of things as they really are.

In all a very good book and ......better than White Oleander by a mile.

Unlike most readers who keep comparing it to White Oleander, I approached Paint it Black with a fresh perspective. I loved WO as well but this is an entirely different story. Yes there is a young punk woman who has a wounded past and a horrible relationship with a woman but the similarity stops there. Fitch went into a different place with this novel. How would it feel to be so alone? Just because you are young doesn't mean you can bounce back from the death of a lover immediately. (Contrary to other reviewer's opinions). Especially when you find out that the person you thought you knew never existed. This novel is haunting and I kept thinking about it for days after.

Janet Fitch's prose is beautiful, that much I know from White Oleander. Sometimes I wish I could write like her, able to see patterns in everyday occurrences, throwing around analogies and metaphors like Josie's accessories and snippets of Michael's memory. It's intoxicating beauty, drinking it in, but at the same time, when you're done, your head just spins--and you wonder what you were doing in the first place.

Paint it Black is like that. After reading 380 pages of lovely imagery, portraying real pain and both Josie's (the girlfriend) and Meredith's (the mother) brink of self-destruction after Michael's death, nothing stayed with me. Fitch, for the most part, succeeds in painting the nitty-gritty of L.A. 80's scenester-life with Josie's social events: her life as an art model, a sometimes-actress in student movies and skateboard advertisements. Josie's voice is strong, and the novel is adequately focused in context, with the kind of language you'd expect in today's music videos, the cigarettes, casual sex and bleach-blonde hair part of the whole set. Josie's life is supposed to contrast completely with Meredith's, the mother of her dead boyfriend, who, as a successful virtuoso pianist, lives the life of the polished, the very rich, of maids and celebrities and 2-page obituaries when they die. Yet, the whole thing seems contrived.

I really wanted to like this book. Both women were strong characters, vividly painted with Fitch's magic brush, and black it is not. And I give her credit for trying so hard to bring Michael to life, especially since he was dead before I read the first page. It's just so difficult to connect with such a character that way, and few have succeeded, and half the time I wanted to yell at him for being so pathetic (Michael not merely be dead, but also fictional). Pages, and pages, of Josie's mourning, no action or dialogue, mere reflection and contemplation. Again, completely beautiful, but makes for an aimless book with the the reader questioning relevance, ending with a vague and weak resolution. Maybe that was the point, and if so, I missed it--it feels like a portrait, showing a scene from someone's life and character, but not giving much insight (and littler plot).

I bought this book because, like everyone else is saying, White Oleander was incredible. I think Fitch was trying so hard to make the tone of this novel different from White Oleander that she failed miserably, creating a wastebin of half-baked characters and random ideas pulled from the previous book.

This book is shorter than White Oleander, and it took me twice as long to read because it was so damn BORING and cliche. I would NOT recommend it.

A truly intoxicating novel. Janet Fitch has a formidable command of the English language. As I got deeper into Paint it Black, I was captivated. Not only while I read, but the days between. Very rarily are my thoughts hi-jacked this way; skewed, to a different, yet fascinating angle. The reason is that her writing is so uniquely descriptive it takes you there, makes you think, and holds you long after you've finished.

True to its title, it is a darker novel and is not for someone looking for an "easy read." Like a movie which does not insinuate the murder scene; you are not spared the details, both physical and emotional. It is an experience that challenges the reader to absorb. I have never read anything quite like it.

Like other readers, I enjoyed White Oleander far more than this book. Paint It Black is tedious and depressing -- and I am someone who usually enjoys bleak fiction. Jacket copy compares Black to Oleander by describing them as two books about women trying to decide how to live, which is accurate, yet the story of White Oleander's Astrid is far more compelling than Josie's, and she is a much more sympathetic character besides. Further, although Fitch vividly describes Los Angeles in all its guises, the punk rock name-dropping doesn't ring true (peculiarly, when you notice that Fitch thanks longtime scenester Trudie Arguelles in the acknowledgments). And finally, although Josie herself is fairly well drawn, we never learn how the tow driver's daughter from Bakersfield has come to understand the significance of Dylan Thomas, Boulez, Serkin, ad nauseam.

Reading "Paint It Black" shone on the little shadow you hid away, glued back that patch of depression you thought you outlived, and plastered on you that streak of emotions that you resisted to experience. It was 400 pages of melancholy mourning, 400 pages of gloom, and 400 pages of finding the dream, after dreamer pulled the trigger.

Josie Tyrell fell in love with Michael Faraday, the privileged son of a talented concert pianist and a famous novelist. But Josie was only a teenage runaway punk, a pathetic pebble in the rock bottom that everyone wanted to ignore. Michael picked up this pebble, put it in clear water, washed away its lackluster sludge, and let it shine. Michael saw something grand and truthful in Josie that no one ever did, not even Josie herself. He painted a picture, dreamed up a dream and perfected a vision for Josie. Josie tried to see herself through Michael's eyes, and saw a beautiful reflection that Michael believed in. So Josie believed in it too, for as long as she could see that reflection, for as long as Michael opened his eyes, for as long as Michael lived and dreamed. But he didn't. Michael's self-hatred, overcritical self-scrutiny and his obscure relationship with his mother were all his pains that Josie didn't see and couldn't understand. When Michael pulled the trigger on the gun against his forehead, Josie was orphaned, and left with a dream without a dreamer, a painting without an artist, and a reflection without a mirror.

How could someone see so much brilliance in you but only ugliness in himself? Who will continue the dream when the dreamer of your dream is gone? Is this really you, this beautiful vision created by the dreamer, or is it just an extravagant fabrication of what's never there, and you are still a muddy pebble?

Josie didn't know how to find the answers to all these questions, so she mourned, in between all the ciggies and voddy, the blue pills and the red pills, she mourned on and on with only Michael on her mind.

Loss is a human condition. It is the only constant in the equation of life. Loneliness is the result of loss. It creates love by driving us to seek the comfort of others, and that is the beauty of a loss. Josie found comfort in the arms of Michael's mother Meredith, a woman who hated and blamed her from the very beginning. The new kind of love nourished between Josie and Meredith was like a breeze into the desert, a drop of water during a drought, a bittersweet afer-taste of a hard-to-swallow death.

In the end, Josie lived, because that was the only thing to do after Michael died. She didn't turn back to be the old muddy pebble that she was. She chose to keep believing in the reflection in Michael's eyes. But what happened to the dream when the dreamer was gone? Josie didn't know what would become of this dream that Michael gave her; it might crumble, and it might bloom, but regardless, Josie decided to be the dreamer and keep this dream alive.

This word-drunk book is heavy in substance and alive in emotions. Janet Fitch killed Michael in the first chapter, filling the rest book with Josie's relentless mourning, coping and understanding of the death. It could be a very painful read. The words and the language could drown you with its power and depths. In reality, we don't really mourn for the length of 400 pages with no desire of moving on like Josie, because the pain is unbearable and dangerous. There are times when you want to yell at Josie and tell her to snap out of it, get over it, and move on. But if you try to understand her, you will see Josie's self-prolonged pain can remind us of what we are actually capable of feeling - the core-shaking sadness, the pitch black loneliness, the flaming yearning for love that has been lost, and the shattering madness on the edge of falling, and the unexplainable desire for connections with what's remained of the loss of the loved one... ...

Josie, a college drop out, nude art model, punk rocker and druggie, loses her boyfriend Michael to suicide, who was a former Harvardite and artist from an elite social category. She becomes eventual friends with his abusive, controlling, rich, snobby Mother who is her only saving grace. This book's purpose doesn't become elucidated until the fourth or fifth chapter, but still struggles throughout.

Having all the right grammatical elements and story components, the author teaches at USC, if it isn't a bit too studied and perfect so as to appear phony. The subject matter was also a bit contrived, dull, and disappointing. I was expecting a great masterpiece after White Oleander. Also, it is hard for me to believe that a middle-aged USC professor knows so much about drugs, sex and rock 'n roll like the subject matter this book delves into.

The net effect is that the book is pretentious, artificial, and struggles hard to maintain your interest. Plus, it reminds me of the movie Interstate 60 and I wonder if she didn't take it directly from that movie because she is too busy teaching at USC to create an original masterpiece. The book is obviously written by someone with a good command of the English language, but is hardly worth the time.

It may be worth it if you loved White Oleander's writing style; you can expect more of the same captivating prose, but without the adventure or deep meaning. I am not expecting another great work from Janet Fitch unless she stops writing about people she knows nothing about.

Like several other readers, I absolutely adore "White Oleander" and thought that "Paint It Black" would be just as beautiful.

Wrong wrong wrong.

This book is about a boring girl who drowns her problems in drugs and alcohol. I'm shocked that the jacket says she is "passionate" and "fiercely alive" when this character does nothing for herself ever. After a while, you just get sick of her boring, lifeless existence and the fact that her whole life was based on her boyfriend. To me, that just rings fairly pathetic, and it's not like that changes ever. O, no, it's nearly 400 pages of drinking and smoking and crying. Nothing really happens but missing a boy.

It's fairly nauseating, actually, and I was incredibly disappointed. Would not recommend, unless you really love Fitch's style. That's what got me through the book--Fitch's gorgeous writing. But aside from that, the lead is boring and has not one passion of her own besides her boyfriend. ugh.

Who cares.

Paint It Black is an amazing piece of literature. This brilliant second novel is a map through the dark night of the soul that reads like a detective novel. Yes, it requires a little patience, and a depth of understanding that readers expecting a mere sequel to White Oleander may not be willing to commit to. However, it is extremely well written, multilayered and thought provoking. Anyone who has suffered the loss of a loved one will immediately understand the journey that the author is asking you to accompany her on. If you are willing to follow her into the darkness, I promise you will be rewarded at the end.

Reading Janet Fitch's disappointing sophomore novel is much like reading a term paper written hours before its due date. The flowery prose, repetitive descriptions and excessive use of metaphors and similes do not mask the fact that the story is still empty, lacking substance or depth.

"Paint it Black" tells the story of 19-year-old protagonist, Josie Tyrell who deals with her live-in boyfriend Michael's suicide. Michael, a depressed artist, shoots himself in a hotel, leaving Josie behind. Josie develops a love-hate relationship with Michael's mother, Meredith, a famous pianist. The two women, despite their differences and marred past, find a common bond in being the only people who truly feel the void left at Michael's passing.

Like she demonstrated in her popular and critically acclaimed first novel, "White Oleander," Fitch is a talented, eloquent writer. Sentences like, "Her headache wound around her forehead, a crown of tequila thorns," are present all throughout the novel, painting a vivid picture. However, many of Fitch's descriptions, are repeated incessantly. Josie, the protagonist, is described as having "bleached hair" with "dark roots," wearing a "yellow, fake fur coat," driving a " rattly blue Falcon" and smoking her "Gauloise cigarettes." After the hundredth page, I was well aware of her appearance and habits and found further redundancies to be a way to fill space rather than examples of imaginative writing. Similar repetitive descriptions are given of Meredith and the house Josie and Michael shared.

Furthermore, the long, complex sentences do not mask the lack of plot and character development. What story-telling there is seems muddled, unclear and inconclusive. This is especially true with Meredith. Fitch attempted to create a mysterious and enigmatic woman whose true character was indecipherable to either Josie or myself. However, at the end of the book, Meredith's character seemed more unresolved and incomplete than intentionally cryptic and was very frustrating to me as a reader.

While Josie comes slightly more full circle, I still found her character resolution to be shallow. After enduring her perpetual mourning for the greater part of the novel, her coming to terms is too quick to be believable. Also, Josie's character did not strike a sympathetic note with me, especially when compared with Astrid, the compelling protagonist from Fitch's first novel. Josie's vulgar mouth, alcoholic tendencies and constant referral to vodka as "voddy" and cigarettes as "ciggies" left me annoyed rather than feeling compassion towards her.

The most developed character is, coincidentally, the one the reader never meets: Michael. Despite first being introduced as a stiff corpse, through memories, Michael comes across as Fitch's one complete character. Stuck in between the blue-blooded life of his mother and the bohemian, starving artists' world he shared with Josie, Michael chooses the ultimate out, leaving people, specifically the two women who loved and thought they knew him best, to pick up the pieces. Fitch achieves in accurately portraying Michael as internally tortured and yet provides the reader with a sufficient, thought-out resolution.

That same complete finality cannot be found at the end of the novel. The conclusion seemed harried and abrupt. When I turned the final page, I was surprised to see it was indeed the last one. Perhaps realizing her descriptive-laden story was like a meringue - fluffy and pleasing to the eye yet ultimately unfulfilling - Fitch brought up God, calling Him "just the man behind the curtain, working His cranks and levers," and Michael's previously unknown need for a Christ-like Savior in his increasingly desperate life. If present throughout the entire novel, these religious references could have made the book more meaningful. Instead, like that hastily finished term paper, they came across as a last-ditch effort to achieve legitimacy in an otherwise empty read.