Before I read this book I imagined it would be an emotional, rumbustious account of Caravaggio's life and times. In fact it is enjoyably understated; an intriguing analysis told in the form of nine witness statements by people who knew him. Raises some interesting questions about the relationship between the holy and the profane, artistic temperament, and the reliability of memory.
Michel paints the suffering. This is what suffering looks like: a nail through a hand, naked metal through naked flesh. You see, you feel, you have to take hold of your own hand.
