Impressionism

Impressionism
by Phoebe Pool
1967

The Upshot

This is basically Summer Vacation Reading: a book that I got on the run and may well have never started as a serious read if there were lots of other options... or I had access to my usual sources and stacks.

Running Thoughts

You know the drill. As I went through the book, I wrote a few notes concerning my reactions, which often as not have little to do with the book in hand. The only thing special about these particular notes is that I made them on a phone. Whereas usually, I hand-write the notes... or preferably, type them straight into my computer.

• From 1967.
• It's got a nice size to it.
• Not too big.
• Not too small.
• And plenty of illustrations.
• Many in color.
• I'm getting sleepy.
• Lots of names.
• But also, the ideas behind the movement.
• Even if I am having a hard time keeping track.
• The sun has come out.
• The color illustrations pop a lot more.
• I will be the last to read this book.
• The glue on the binding is failing and the pages are falling out.
• Saved me the trouble of deciding whether to rip as I go.
• The historic progression of color analysis is quiet interesting.
• Reading in poor light, again.
• But at least, I am reading, again.
• This would make a good beach book.
• There is a need to brush book crumbs off my chest.
• I am currently reading, laying on my back.
• I hope no bits or pieces fall into my eye.
• The subject is deeper than I would have thought.
• Painting as a life endeavor.
• But I find myself yearning for a nap, nonetheless, once again.
• The printing is of high quality.
• I feel as though I can see the underlying canvas.
• Though, that may just be the underlying paper.

As I look at an Impressionist Painting hanging on the wall, I am struck by how well the distorted pigments mimic my fading vision.

Final Debriefing

As I settle in for a quite night at home, I decided to read and not just read, but read an actual book, both activities (on account of my failing vision) having become more and more of an oddity as of late. And as I made the decision to read Vanity Fair (with this book standing in the way and laying on top), I knew I would never find the time to finish this particular volume.

Ironically enough, tomorrow is the first day of the month, so it is time to catalogue my current reading stacks. And culling this one will make that task one easier.

In the end, it was a good history book, a bit thick on names, relationships, and things of that ilk. But I have no qualms as to the quality. I am sure this tome has found a proud spot on many a scholar's shelf. And if not, it should.

My lack of interest should not be taken as a critique; but rather, as a statement regarding my level of interest in the topic at hand.