The Portrait of Mrs. Charbuque
by Jeffrey FordWilliam Morrow, 310 pp., $24.95 The toast of turn-of-the-century New York society, Piambo is a portraitist of extraordinary skill who seeks to escape the mundane world of the rich. He wishes the freedom to create a masterpiece worthy of his abilities. Then, the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself. He is offered an improbable sum — enough to retire into a life of leisure — to paint the portrait of Mrs. Charbuque. There is but one catch: He must never see her.
The pair begins a series of meetings during which Mrs. Charbuque tells Piambo her life story. Her tales — magical, lyrical, and often fantastic — alone are worth the price of the book. Indeed, Ford has stocked his story with one eclectic and fascinating character after another, from the eponymous Mrs. C. to Piambo’s opium-addicted best friend, Shenz, to the artist’s charming girlfriend, Samantha. Even the lesser characters are well-conceived and interesting. Perhaps the least interesting person in this book is our protagonist, who in any ordinary book would shine. But The Portrait of Mrs. Charbuque is anything but ordinary. The 1890s New York City portrayed in Ford’s novel made me believe he had somehow visited that age; his vivid and engaging historical perspective adds yet another layer to this incredible story. As if the premise weren’t enough, New Yorkers start dying in a horrible, mysterious way, and Ford deftly weaves this strange plot twist together with his vibrant cast and bizarre tales. All of these disparate elements culminate in a shocking — and ultimately satisfying — conclusion.
Ford, who himself has created a masterpiece, dedicates his latest novel to “Lynn,” calling her “singular, mysterious, and beautiful.” Those three adjectives are eloquently fitting in summing up this marvelous, elegant book.
This article appears in June 28 • 2002.