I have just finished reading The Blind Contessa's New Machine by the young, beautiful, and intrepid Carey Wallace. I had the privilege of meeting Carey at an International Arts Movement event back in February (on which I reported here).
This is the novel of the decade, folks. I'm serious. It is the most beautiful thing I've read in ages, and masterfully executed. It has the poise and control usually belonging to a much older writer, coupled with the heartaching beauty of any age that's often associated with the young.
The prose is tight and clean. The characters are sparely drawn, yet live the more fully for all that. It feels like how Hemingway would write if he were young, in love, embittered, and enamored by a nostalgic kind of taste for beauty. It has a touch of "Ever After," which was a lovely film. It's full of reflections, stars, inventions, lemon blossoms, darkness, and dreams. A book made of jewels.
Go read it!!!!!!!!!!!