The title of Kylie Needham’s debut novel refers to a painting of “a young woman in a pink dress against a cavernous background of bruised blues and bulky blacks”. It’s an obvious but nonetheless apt metaphor in a book about women in art, about women in the world.
“She looks mournful,” writes Needham; the darkness is a “fathomless shape”. Her prose is visual and poetic – unsurprising perhaps, given Needham’s background. An award-winning screenwriter in her own right, Needham has first-hand experience of the world of fine art through her husband, the renowned Australian artist Ben Quilty. At first it seems as though this might be just another book about art and desire – but, like the surprisingly seductive landscapes painted by Frances, the heart of the book and the titular girl, there’s more depth to this story than first meets the eye.
