The Muse: A Novel

Written in the style of recent greats like "The Thirteenth Tale" and "All The Light We Cannot See", Burton proves she is a talented, intellectual and intriguing writer that is sure to entertain the world for many years to come. Two thumbs up!

I heard Jessie interviewed on NPR and started with her first book The Miniaturist. Needless to say, I liked her voice, her style and her characters. As an author she introduced many complexities, about race, gender, class and more. The Spanish Civil War contrasted against London in the 60s post WWII is very interesting. Plus the story is really that of an immigrant, so even more timely with world events. It's obvious that she did a lot of research and I'm a big fan of historical fiction. I really liked both books, so much that I searched for other things she's written, nothing yet, but I will read her next one!

Apparently my opinion is in the minority; from what I could find when looking up reviews for "The Muse," it has generally been receiving rating of about 4/5 stars. Although I read this book (as part of a monthly subscription that I deemed something of a "book club"), I would not say that I could recommend it. The writing style was what most stymied my efforts to get involved in the story; often I was left saying, "Wait, what?" and not in the intrigued, good way, but instead in confusion, such as, "Wait, what just happened?" "Wait, who is speaking?" or, "Wait, what is the author trying to imply?" There were many times where either all of the sudden the characters would randomly start doing something, like making out, that seemed completely out of place to me, and other times when what was presented was written in such a vague way that I was left trying to figure out what the author was trying to say and, based upon what happened later, was often wrong, leaving me more confused about what was being expressed in the previous chapter. But, for the most part, I also felt to no compulsion or desire to reread and try to understand, either. (And my experience from when I did indicated to me that it wouldn't help clarify if I did.) The characters were written, I believe, to be more realistic. But the story has such an odd sense of detail that they never felt fully developed to me; a character would do something, and I wouldn't know enough about him/her to understand why or from where that action came. Also, because of this effort to make the characters more realistic but the lack of character development, I was never invested in the characters and was often turned off or annoyed by them, or at least their sudden, unexplained choices or behaviors. Also, about midway through the book, a premise is set up in a "whodunnit" style, to keep intrigue high until the end. But there are so few real characters developed that it was incredibly easy to figure out who the person was. Like I said, apparently I am in the minority, with people praising the author's use of detail. But to me, even the detailed sections were vague, as I imagine it may have to be if, for example, you are writing about a painting that everyone thinks is amazing but doesn't really exists. Part of what didn't sell me on the details were that the object wasn't necessarily described as much as you were told, for example, that everyone who ever looked upon this painting was awed by it. The best thing I could say about the book is that the chapters are short, which I always appreciate, since I like having many natural stopping points in case something comes up and I need to stop reading. A whole section of chapters combined was the equivalent of one, long chapter in a different book. But these chapters clearly needed to stand on their own, because they were new ideas presented each time. Anyway, overall, I didn't enjoy the writing style and didn't find the content particularly wowing or pro- any of the groups it attempted to represent. But that is just me. :)

Another excellent read from Jessie Burton! I so enjoyed “The Miniaturist” that I was really looking forward to this one. I actually listened to the audiobook version of this. This is the story of two young women, living at different times. Olive is living in Spain with her family in 1936 as political tensions are beginning to rise. She longs to be a painter but her father will not let her attend art school so she paints in secret in the attic. A local girl helps out in the house and the two become best friends. When Olive’s mother hires a local painter to paint their portrait, events begin to spiral out of control.

In 1967, Odelle is a young woman who has emigrated from the Caribbean. She is hired to work as a secretary for the Skelton Institute of Art. At her best friend’s wedding she meets a young man who has inherited an unusual painting after the recent death of his mother. He brings the painting to the Skelton to find out if it has any value. The search for what happened to the painter will bring the two storylines together but watch out for all the twists and turns before you get to the end.

I really enjoyed this story. It’s complex, keeps you guessing, and the way that the author takes you back and forth from one storyline to the other keeps you fully engaged. I did have a little trouble getting into the story at the beginning but I think that had more to do with the narration than the story itself. Both narrators have accents, one Spanish and one Caribbean, which makes the characters come to life but it took me a couple of hours of listening to really feel comfortable with the narrators. Don’t let that discourage you from picking up this book though. The story is inspired and a real treat. I highly recommend.

The Muse by Jessie Burton - simply put - was brilliant. Ms. Burton's writing is poetic and so extremely expressive that I felt as if I were experiencing the story itself live as it happened. Her descriptions were immaculate and her character development was so sincere, deep, and honest that I felt deeply connected to each person in the story needing to hear more... Needing to learn more.

I listened to this book via Audio Recording and I am convinced that the reading was simply brilliant as well. Each sentence was spoken with such feeling and emotion that the voices melted into the characters and became them. I enjoyed every second of the reading.

I really appreciate how Ms. Burton seemed to have been able to keep me on the edge of my seat guessing who was who and what will happen next. Although, I did guess a few of the plot twists early on, I was completely unprepared for the continuous plot unravellings. Each time I thought, "that's it, this is what's going to happen".... The story would take a critical turn that I did not see coming.

At the end of the book I felt disappointment that it had ended. I want to read more.

I definitely recommend this book to Very Mature Audiences. While most of the book is perfect for mature young adults, there are a few extremely explicit adult situations which younger children should not be exposed to. Accordingly, I will say - keep this book for Adults only. I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed listening to it.

Happy Reading!

I agreed with another reviewer that the book was a disappointment. It seemed written to formula—back and forth in time with a surprise reveal about which character emerges in the future. This seems to be a trend in the books written for book club discussion. I was quite interested when I began the book and—perhaps because I'm an artist—I was fascinated with the imagery of the girl with lion painting. However about halfway through the book I began to dislike it. The descriptions of how the girl painted was unrealistic—the author seems clueless about how real painters work, the fact that a simple housecleaner attained such a high position in America seemed unrealistic (at least without a description of how she reinvented herself—a book on its own), and the surprise ending too much of a cliche, at least in the world of authors writing for book clubs. How many books have we read by now with a similar back and forth in time plot and a surprise reveal?! The characters seemed like cardboard figures; no explanation of why they acted as they did, no depth to their motivations. I ended up with a big thumbs down.

It takes some time to see where this inventively plotted novel is heading, or how its two alternating parts – one set in England in 1967 and the other in the South of Spain in 1936 – connect.

In England, Odelle Bastien, an immigrant from Trinidad, has a secretarial job at the Skelton Institute for Art. She has fallen for Lawrence Scott, whose late mother had left him a painting that had meant a lot to her. He knows nothing about it and takes it to the Skelton Institute for their opinion. Edmund Reede, the director of the Institute, and Marjorie Quick, Odelle’s enigmatic immediate superior in different ways (and, as we will see, for different reasons) become very excited by the painting. That is the beginning of an elaborate detective story, full of drama which in one or two places is melodrama.

Then we switch to Spain, where we meet the Schloss family: Harold, the Jewish father, had been a Viennese art dealer; Sarah, the non-Jewish and neurotic mother has come from a very wealthy English family; and their daughter Olive. As Nazi influence grows in Austria, they leave the country and spend time in England and, now, in a rented finca in the South of Spain. There are two painters in that part of the story: Olive (whose father believes a woman cannot be a real artist and belittles her work) and Isaac Robles, one of a pair of siblings who works for the family.

Back in England, a link is made between the two stories – but it is a misleading one. We will find out later why it is misleading: that strange story is the heart of the novel – an astonishing and almost unbelievable tangle of identities. At one stage I guessed I had untangled it, only to find a very few pages from the end that I was wrong.

There is a lot more to the book than the story about the painting: reflections on art, authenticity and fame; a couple of love stories (I thought the description of the women’s initial emotions are on the corny, novelettish side); what it is like to be a West Indian in England; Odelle’s literary ambitions; her friendship with a fellow-Trinidadian, Cynthia; the relationship between Odelle and Marjorie Quick; that between Olive, Isaac and his sister Teresa; the run-up to and then the actual Spanish Civil War (with one truly terrible scene).

The book makes for compelling reading. If I give it four stars instead of five, it is because for my taste the story is just a little too contorted.

An excellent book with many dimensions. The story goes back and forth between Spain in the mid-1930s and London, England in 1967. In Spain we read about the Schloss family and the people connected with them, in particular their daughter, Olive and their supposed servants, Isaac and Teresa Robles. Harold Schloss, the father, was a Jew from Austria (?) and an art dealer. His wife Sarah was a beautiful woman who was more or less addicted to alcohol and various drugs supposed to make her feel better from her various “maladies.” The Schloss family are residing in their finca, (country estate) in Spain.
In England, in 1967, we meet a very intelligent young immigrant from a West Indies Island nation, Odelle Bastien,. Actually, we meet her in the very first chapter. She ends up working at The Skelton Institute, an important art museum in London, where she becomes a friend of sorts of the rather mysterious Marjorie Quick. We also meet a somewhat mysterious young man who brings a possibly valuable painting to the Institute to have it appraised and, more importantly, to sell it. He and Odelle become good “friends,” although that relationship has its ups and downs.
Back in Spain in 1936, the Schloss and Robles families become extremely intertwined. I’ll leave it at that.
The whole book is actually a big mystery which this writer had thought he had figured out - but hadn’t. Enough said.
Author Jessie Burton is an amazing writer.

Odelle is from Trinidad, living in London in the 1960s, trying to make it as a writer as she makes a living as a clerk in a shoe store. She manages to acquire a position as a typist at an art gallery and is taken under the wing of Marjorie Quick, an executive there. The story shifts to prewar Spain where Olive Schloss, a young woman, falls in love with Isaac Robles, an artist and revolutionary. Isaac and his half-sister Teresa are working as servants to the Schloss family. Olive’s father is a renowned Austrian art dealer, her mother a disturbed British woman. Central to the story is a remarkable painting of a young woman carrying her own severed head while a lion looks on. The two stories merge, of course, as the plot reveals itself.

The author writes with erudition bordering on pretentiousness, but succeeds in giving a credible picture of both settings. The story is engaging the whole way. I listened to the audiobook version. The actress who reads the London portions is excellent, with a wonderfully charming Caribbean accent (when portraying Odelle) and upper class English accent (when portraying Quick or other Brits). On the other side, the actress who reads the Spanish portions is terrible. She can’t act and her English so poor she mispronounces words constantly. Orange rhymes with flange. It’s clear she is a native Spanish speaker. This choice may have provided us with an authentic Spanish accent, but at what price? She sounds like she’s reading to three-year-olds, overacting and reading at a pace designed for a slow-witted Braille transcriber. She’s more than a ham; she’s bacon. I don’t understand the choice since there is very little Spanish in the story, just a few words here and there.

For a long time I had a hard time believing the same author wrote the two threads of the story, the Spanish thread seeming so badly written. It just shows how important the reader is. Despite this drawback, I enjoyed the book. I thought the attempt to create a surprise ending by letting us know that Marjorie Quick had a secret failed, as I was able to guess the secret quite quickly (no pun intended), but the ending was still a mostly satisfying one.

Ever since laying eyes on the gorgeous cover for The Muse before it was even published I was keen to read it, but with an ever growing pile of books to review I didn't end up picking this one up. Luckily for me, my flat mate found a copy at our local book exchange, thinking it was something I would enjoy – and she was absolutely right.

I didn't know anything about the story before picking it up, but with this dual time frame narrative Jessie Burton has created another historic read that while focusing on purely fictional characters, in its detail feels incredible realistic (so much so that I Googled the artist at the heart of the tale but alas, he is not a real person).

The story of the artist and the people touched by the work along the way is both harrowing and thought provoking, and the way the two timelines are entwined, set again the backdrop of both the lead up to the second world war and the 1960s, was as inspired as it was fascinating.

Before I even opened the first page of this book, before I was even onto the second paragraph of the synopsis, the feelings of comfort and familiarity I felt were immeasurably overwhelming. I myself was born and raised in the tiny West Indian country of Trinidad, and to know that the main character would possibly be sharing the blood I bear, was a gift that not many other authors have handed me. The Muse didn't only boast an intriguing promise of turbulent mystery, it already held my heart in its hands before it even began. Comprised of alternate perspectives, told almost 30 years apart, we find two talented young women, each forging a road that will eventually lead to an intersection of grand proportions.

It's 1967, and Odelle Bastien is a hopeful resident of London. Having arrived 5 years prior from Trinidad with her best friend Cynthia, Odelle lends most of her thoughts to bigger dreams. She has little else to offer but her working experience at a women's retail shoe store, so is shocked when an application for a typist job at a well-known art gallery results in success. A few days into her new position, she meets Marjorie Quick, the woman behind the gallery's magic, and the human catalyst for the unraveling of both Odelle's sanity, and the maddening mystery of a newly acquired painting.

It is also 1936, during a tumultuously political time in Spain, and where a one Olive Schloss is at war with herself. A hidden talent, a rare opportunity, and the question of whether or not she discloses both of these things to her art dealing father, and rarely sober mother. When their home is visited by two locals looking for employment, Olive's secret becomes the pulsing background noise to the addition of newer, more dangerous secrets. In a whirlwind of fierce new friendships, sexual explorations, and random acts of revolution, Olive has to decide whether finding herself is worth the price she might pay for that discovery.

When these timelines collide, it is with a force of realization so intense that I can guarantee that your hands won't be able to flip through the remaining pages fast enough. Jessie Burton puts her pen to the paper with purpose, with a desire to not only have her readers immersed in the sights, sounds, and emotions of her creations, but I suspect, to also lay bare the fact that her entire heart belongs to the written word. The Muse was spectacularly researched, and there is now the MOST INTENSE need for me to know how she perfected Trinidadian slang and speech. It was on point, it was PERFECTION. So perfect that I was easily able to read the passages of dialogue in my native tongue, and almost BELIEVE that Burton was a Trinidadian herself. The harmonization of both a London and small-town Caribbean life was done expertly, with knowledge of each city being doled out in just the right amounts.

The Muse doesn't really pick up speed until the last quarter, and for some, the scenic road leading there might not be up to their pacing or descriptive standards. But you need to understand, this narrative WAS its descriptions, it was its ability to use words to paint a technicolor picture. It was a narrative revolving around art, around a piece of artwork so important that using simple words and blunt back stories would not have done it justice. I want Burton to try her hand at modern day fairy tales, so soothing and yet equally heart-wrenching is her writing style.

There are so many ways that the conclusion of this novel could be considered open-ended, or unsatisfying. There were major questions that I wanted answers for. There were people I wanted a little more conversation with. But alas, everything must come to an end, and such with life, one cannot realistically expect neatly tied up ends. My emotional vat was already brimming over by the end of The Muse, I didn't need an ending that suited my needs, the story that brought me to the last page was enough to keep me sated.

Lastly, I didn't want to gush, but HERE I AM GUSHING: can we please stop the world and look at that STUNNINGLY GORGEOUS cover? I seriously advise everyone to purchase this book just to stare at and run your hands across that deliriously beautiful design work (the dust jacket is that creamy, melt in your hands material!). But don't stop there, step inside of this narrative, and if you do, please come back here and share what this book did to YOU.

Sexual Content: Subtle
Language (Profanity/Slang) Content: Mild
Violent Content: None

This book is cool! I am not usually someone who makes these one sentence statements about a book, trying to be more nuanced and citing specific examples of why I deem a book worth reading. But this book is just so novel in its plot and the characters are fascinating that it was just plain fun to read.
The focus of this book is on two women, both artists in their own way, but preferring to hide their artistic work from others.

Olive lives in Spain during the 1930s, a period when the shadows of WWII are obvious to most. She is the daughter of a Jewish family from Vienna. Her father is an art dealer, who is looking for new talent in Spain. Olive becomes fast friends with two siblings who arrive to assist the family with routines tasks around the house. Isaac and his sister Teresa provide an outlet for Olive to spend time with people her own age. Teresa and Olive become close, while Olive and Isaac share a love of painting. Olive has to do her painting in secret because her father has expressed the opinion that women are not destined to product great art. Rather than face the critique of her father, Olive only shares her paintings with Teresa and Isaac.

Fast forward to London in the equally tumultuous 60s and we find Odelle, another artist afraid to share her art for fear of criticism. Odelle is an émigré from the Caribbean and her skin color already sets her apart, risking having her poetry bashed is not something she is willing to risk. But an encounter with a painting at the art gallery where she works will precipitate a series of events that will lead to her poetry being shared with others. The painting question is by Isaac, who died mysteriously before WWII. The book now switches back and forth and tells the stories of Olive and Odelle. Never a dull moment, the book does an excellent job of weaving the stories of these two women around the story of the painting and the painter. There is mystery throughout the book, but also a stark realism when the author describes the situation in pre-WWII Spain, when Franco was embattled in a fight for the leadership of Spain. While in some ways Olive is too young at 19 to worry much about politics, we as the reader sense that she is in the middle of a bigger story without realizing it and the story finds it end in 1960s London and Odelle.

A wonderfully written book that makes the prose sound at times like poetry and a story that is both nuanced and easy to follow, with characters that are realistic and have depth.

-- EVA

All books reviewed by Once Upon a Romance are furnished by the publisher or publicist for a fair and honest review.

The premise of this book had me intrigued. Then when I watched the video by the author reading a part from the book, I was even more interested to read this book. Yet, sadly I was not so over the moon with this book as I was looking forward towards. To be honest, it is purely by the author's writing and the wonderful time periods and locations that kept me reading as much as I did. The characters did not really resonate emotionally with me. Therefore I struggled with the book as a whole. Although, maybe just a tiny bit I did like Odelle. She did seem to have a stronger voice that stuck with me over Olive, Teresa and Isaac. However as I stated prior, the author does have a nice way of telling a story. I did feel like the story was being told with the brush stroke of a paint brush. I would try this author again.

I did receive a copy of this book for review.

After reading a Nicholas Sparks book (out of obligation to my mother-in-law) full of typos and poorly structured sentences, I read Barton's first novel, The Miniaturist. I found her writing style beautifully engaging. It was a breath of fresh air. And no typos! She has a wonderfully poetic way with words. I noticed other reviews label her style as pompous, but I'll take pompous over sloppy any day.
The Muse was not a disappointing follow up to her first work.
As far as story structure and character development, I found it exceptional. At first, it is hard to see the relation between the two timelines, but it was enjoyable to try to piece together the gradually emerging connection. Some mysteries are not revealed until the end. Who exactly is Marjorie Quick, and why is Lawrie Scott so interested in who painted the art his mother left to him?
I am eagerly awaiting Burton's next novel!

I loved "The Miniaturist" and really looked forward to reading "The Muse." But this second book is a let down. I think the emphasis on shifting back and forth between two eras and lead characters was too much for the story. About half way through, I stopped pretending that the alternating between the 2 story lines worked, and just read the chapters from the 60s, then went back and read the ones from the 30s. And that worked better for me, to keep the story working. I think if I were the editor, I would have told the 60s story in its entirety first, then had the 30s as the second half of the book - this structure would have added to reader understanding without compromising the stories. As it is, there's way too much going on, between eras and between fates in the two generations. It reads more like a movie script than a book, and even then, would need editing to keep it clear. Disappointed, but will look for more of this author in the future, hoping that she can recapture the vibrancy of her first book again.

I borrowed this from my local library and voluntarily reviewed it.

I really enjoyed The Muse. I loved the concept behind it, a beautiful painting with a dark, tragic history. I enjoyed the way the plot unravelled, moving back and forth between Odelle’s story when the painting is discovered and the past gradually revealing the origin of the painting and the reason for Quick’s response to it. I like it when author’s use this narrative style especially when it works well. I liked the characters and felt they were well rounded and well written. I wouldn’t say The Muse has the most original plot but it works well and I had a good time reading it. Things got quite dark towards the end and this worked really well for me. I enjoyed The Muse and would recommend it.

Odelle Bastien is a hardworking émigré from Trinidad trying to carve out a life for herself in London, 1967. When she starts a new job as a typist at the prestigious Skelton Institute of Art, she is beyond thrilled: “The Skelton was Eden, it was Mecca and Pemberley; the best of my dreams come to life.” Fairly quickly, Odelle’s world opens up in ways she never could have imagined, as she is taken under the wing of Marjorie Quick, a chain-smoking, accomplished woman in her early 50s who was second-in-command to Edmund Reede, the director of the Skelton Institute, and referred to in British boarding school style as “Quick.”

When Odelle brings in a painting that her new boyfriend, Lawrie, has inherited after his mother’s death, her bosses are in disbelief at what they see. The canvas that hung in Lawrie’s mother’s bedroom for years just might be one of the very few remaining paintings of Isaac Robles, a young Spanish artist whose untimely and mysterious death derailed a promising career. This discovery leads to a Pandora’s box of intrigue, secrets and lies, leaving young Odelle wondering who she can trust.

Arazuelo, Spain, in 1936 was a beautiful little village on the southern coast, free from the hassles of the modern city. Harold Schloss, a Viennese Jewish art dealer, has decided to bring his family here to avoid the growing unrest further north. His wife Sarah, a delicate British heiress, and his strong-willed 19-year-old daughter, Olive, join him in the large, slightly dilapidated house he has rented from a local landowner. To ensure that the household runs well while he’s attending to his business in Paris, Harold hires Isaac and Teresa, the children of the landowner, to help run the property. Teresa is a meek, somewhat sullen girl who becomes the housekeeper, and her half-brother Isaac, an aspiring painter and dilettante caught up in the fervor of revolution that has made its way to the small village, does odd jobs around the estate.

Longing for adventure and excitement, Olive is immediately smitten with Isaac. A closet artist herself, she has never let on to her parents about her artistic ability, including the fact that she was accepted into the Slade School of Art back in London. Olive hides her talent because of her father’s general belief that women are not capable of making truly great art. She confides her skill only to Teresa, who is amazed: “Who painted like this, a nineteen year old in her school pajamas? Who knew such colors, who could take the land she had only just arrived in, and turn it into something better, and higher, brighter than the sun that flooded the room? For surely, this was the finca and its orchard, reimagined in a riot of color and dancing shapes, identifiable to Teresa but so essentially changed.” Sarah, bored with lying around the house while her husband is away, and perhaps seeing the handsome young man as a potential lover, suggests that Isaac paint a portrait of her, as a present to her husband. When Olive hears of this plan, she inserts herself, in an attempt to thwart her mother’s romantic plans, saying “I think Daddy would like us both to be in the painting.”

Right before the painting is to be revealed to Mr. Schloss, Teresa switches out Isaac’s mediocre painting for one of Olive’s, hoping to encourage the young girl to admit to her true ambitions to her parents. Once her father sees her talent, he’ll have to concede that women are capable of great works of art and agree to let her attend art school in London. Mr. Schloss is indeed astounded by the piece, but still thinking the painting is Isaac’s work, he immediately offers to take it to Paris to show to prospective buyers, including Peggy Guggenheim, who was just starting to gain a name for herself as a generous patron of the arts. Despite Teresa’s pleas, Olive refuses to take ownership of her painting: “They believe it’s Isaac’s painting. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it? What people believe. It doesn’t matter what’s the truth, what people believe becomes the truth.”

Olive has fallen so deeply under Isaac’s spell that she begins to feel as if she can’t paint without him. He has become her muse. And Isaac reluctantly goes along with the charade because he channels the money he earns from his newfound artistic fame to his country’s revolutionaries. So what if it’s all predicated on a lie? This one lie is the bitter formation of a conspiracy of deceit that will threaten everyone in its wake, with reverberations that will be felt for decades to come.

Much like her previous novel, THE MINIATURIST, Jessie Burton meticulously reconstructs two different worlds connected by a thread of lies and ruminates on the nature of truth in art. Each seemingly disparate story is told with remarkable care and evident research, and draws the reader in to a serpentine tale about art, truth and artistic ambition. Fans of ALL THE LIGHT WE CANNOT SEE, THE NIGHTINGALE and THE GOLDFINCH will be equally enthralled by this beautifully constructed story of art, ambition and the sacrifices one makes in the pursuit of both.

Reviewed by Bronwyn Miller

The Muse was delightful in almost every way. Rich settings and and flowing prose paint a captivating tale that switches between an English artist, caught in the Port of Spain on the brink of World War 2, and a Trinidadian writer working for a London art dealer. 30 years separate their stories, but as the story progresses their lives become increasingly intertwined. It touches on the difficulties of female artists in the thirties, and the struggles of getting published as a black woman in 1960s England, but doesn’t dwell too heavily on it; it is seamlessly woven into the story and doesn’t feel forced or “put on.”

I really enjoyed this book. I read her first book, The Miniaturist, a few months ago, and was very disappointed in it. It had a lot of good potential, but the subject matter crossed a line and became too icky and sexual for me to see past. However, her writing style is one that I love very much, and I decided to give her one more chance. I am so glad that I did, because I could not put this book down! Definitely very fun to read.

I’d give this a 4/5, if only just for some pretty predictable characters (although the twist at the end did get me!).

Give this a read if you’re a fan of Kate Morton’s The Secret Keeper, and if you’re in the mood for a colorful mishmash of mystery, history, romance and drama.

A page turner of exceptional prose. Well developed characters, plot, and setting. Was expecting Quick's identity to be Olive, not Teresa. Didn't want story to end, but when it did, I felt Burton's characters made the right choices for who they were in the story. Looking forward to reading Burton's Miniaturist.

Have to agree w/SC/above this review. Enjoyed The Muse only because my husband is a painter and many issues @ painting and marketing were covered in novel form. JB can turn a phrase metaphorically and it is a pleasure to read in those sections. However, the reaction that SC had about details/circumstances not being congruent was my reaction..like wait....where did that come from...appearances of characters that did not realistically fit. But JB can take license because it is a novel and not real..sometimes too much stretch. Did finish it and think I got it...however...not sure!!

Fascinating, haunting, beautiful and well-researched. This was a wonderful. Characters stay with you long after you've put the book down. I highly recommend this book, more so if you are an art lover. I can't wait to read another title by this author.

This book is being seriously underrated and under appreciated. It is a marvelous book connecting two very different time periods. It is an art and history fiction that beautifully combines interesting characters and events while maintaining a degree of suspense. I also read her previous book, The Miniaturist, and although most authors can't top their first novel, Ms. Burton has managed to do so. Can't wait for her next book.

I kept reading this book because the story and historical periods were so interesting. But I found the writing to be pretty awful; awkward phrases and clunking metaphors abound. It was hard to keep going; the writing gets in the way of the story.

Colorful, soulful and rich storytelling. The clear voice of the narrator as she finds herself gets more confident like the artist she's talking about. The pace matches the scenery. Vibrant and languid at the same time. I don't think everyone will like this book as much as I did. But the exploration of so many themes -- love, being an artist, growing up, race -- was impressive and real.

Really enjoyed this - an interesting idea and I liked the way that the past and the present stories worked alongside each other so seamlessly. The characters were interesting, if not always likeable, in fact, in many ways this made them more intriguing. I would recommend this book.

Burton's The Muse is tale of intrigue - seductive, exhilarating and suspenseful. The Muse is an unforgettable novel about aspiration and identity, love and obsession, authenticity and deception. It proves the importance of inspiration (a muse) to an artist.
The two settings are perfectly woven, and all the members of the club had a positive reaction.

The muse is completely different from Burton's first book, The Miniaturist, and totally works on its own. There is a freedom and something like joyous abandon in the voice and prose that go beyond the primary characters, Odelle and Olive. Yet Burton hooks it all together through the mystery of the painting, of the Schlosses, of Isaac and Teresa. It's compelling, gorgeously written, and I think has more of Burton's self in it in terms of voice than The Miniaturist does.

Having read Jessie Burton's The Miniaturist, and seeing this one on the shelves in the very expensive exclusive book stores, I was desperate. And then I remembered I had some Audible credits, and it was with delight I started listening.

The story opens with a vivid scene in which Odelle Bastien is working in a shoe store in London, trying to make a life for herself, having moved here from Trinidad She is finding it difficult to get good work, even though she is educated and willing - it's that being a Trini and female makes it a little more difficult in 1967. She gets a job at the Skelton gallery, and makes new friends who inspire her to explore hidden talents.

We also meet Olive Schloss, daughter of a famous art dealer in 1936, lover of art, beauty and desperately craving love and to be seen - especially by her father.

The narrator is excellent, and the voices she assigns to the two protagonists are brilliant. However, Jessie Burton's writing is of such a high standard that her words need to be read to be truly appreciated.

So when my daughter wanted to read this too, I was delighted to get my hands on a physical copy and keep listening - I wanted to inhale this book and make it a part of me.

Burton, as she did in The Miniaturist, creates a world for us to disappear into. A magical historical, dangerous and anxious world. But here, unlike The Miniaturist, I connected deeply with the characters, loving them instantly, and therefore giving the book much more of my attention.

A resounding 5 stars - this book is breathtakingly beautiful in every way.