Julian Barnes’ The Limner

January 17, 2009

I’ll admit, i’ve never been a huge fan of writer Julian Barnes– at least not the books (I couldn’t get through Flaubert’s Parrot in grad school)– though i’ve enjoyed a few of his short pieces. However…

His story in the Jan 5 issue of The New Yorker, The Limner, is quite lovely and hearbreaking.

I’ve always known (and thought) he was a master of language, but I often get overwhelmed when reading him. The first 1/3 of the NewYorker story almost turned me off– it was hard to follow (but maybe that’s because I was on the elliptical) but then I settled into it and the piece and especially the character of the deaf limner, really moved me.

Also, I don’t know if Julian Barnes paints, but man oh man he describes this painter’s work, techniques, and mind-set as if he was a limner himself.

Here, the deaf limner realizes the power he has:

And then, without any help beyond his own perceptions, he began to understand that he had more than just a function; he had strength of his own. This was not something that those who employed him would admit, but his eyes told him that it was the case. Slowly, he realized the truth of his craft: that the client was the master, except when he, James Wadsworth, was the client’s master. For a start, he was the client’s master when his eye discerned what the client would prefer him not to know. A husband’s contempt. A wife’s dissatisfaction. A deacon’s hypocrisy. A child’s suffering. A man’s pleasure at having his wife’s money to spend. A husband’s eye for the hired girl. Large matters in small kingdoms.

Incredible. Read the story here.