Picture of author.

Philip Kazan

Autor(a) de The Painter of Souls

5 Works 116 Membros 5 Críticas

Obras por Philip Kazan

The Painter of Souls (2014) 49 exemplares
Appetite (1830) 29 exemplares
The Phoenix of Florence (2019) 27 exemplares
The Black Earth (2018) 10 exemplares

Etiquetado

Conhecimento Comum

Nome legal
Vaughan-Hughes, Pip
Outros nomes
Kazan, Philip
Data de nascimento
1964
Sexo
male
Nacionalidade
Britain
Local de nascimento
London, England, UK
Locais de residência
Dartmoor, Devon, England, UK
Educação
London University

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Pip Vaughan-Hughes was born in London in 1964 and grew up in Devon. Pip also writes under the name Philip Kazan. He studied Medieval History at London University. Having been warned by his family that he should on no account ever become a freelance writer, he worked in the publishing industry in London and New York, dabbled in landscape gardening and journalism and co-owned a restaurant in Vermont, before he decided that the best advice is the advice that you ignore, and turned to writing full time. Pip now lives on the edge of Dartmoor with his wife, three children and a very large black cat.

Membros

Críticas

One pitfall of biographical fiction is the elbow-in-the-ribs aha! moment, when our protagonist meets the great and renowned on his or her way up the ladder of fame. Such scenes afflict The Painter of Souls, a novel about the fifteenth-century Florentine Carmelite painter Fra Filippo Lippi.

Not only does the young–and I mean young–friar run across such luminaries as Donatello and Brunelleschi as easily as rolling out of bed, they instantly recognize his talent and praise him generously, to which he rubs his sandal in the dust and utters the Italian equivalent of “Aw, shucks.” Meanwhile, the prior gives Fra Filippo every bit of leeway, impressed with his gift, which surely comes from God, and sees no reason not to let him paint church frescoes and altar pieces under the tutelage of lay artists.

Despite these happenings, which sometimes seem too good to be true, I like The Painter of Souls. What saves the novel for me is its good-natured, winning protagonist. Pippo, to his secular friends, likes a drink, a game of dice, and has sexual fantasies about the paintings of Eve that adorn church walls.

His father died when Pippo was six, and his mother has been virtually catatonic from grief ever since, leaving the boy to fend for himself. He’s learned how to beg, scrounge for food in garbage heaps, rob market stalls, fashion crude pens and ink to make drawings of passersby for pennies, and share his gains with the gang to which he belongs. Pippo comes dangerously close to letting that dead-end life swallow him altogether. Entering the church has saved him.

However, he doesn’t take well to the discipline. He wants to, but he misses too much of the outside world to accept his new surroundings, especially the restraint, which he finds excessive. The silence of the convent feels “heavy, deliberate, enforced,” its purpose to stifle noise except at prescribed times, as with bell ringing or the ponderous closing of cell doors.

Pippo loves the sky, the sights, sounds, and smells of Florence, the taste of roast meat and the good grape, the glimpse of a pretty face. Or more than a glimpse, which of course leads him to sinful daydreams. How he reconciles all that with his religious faith, his desire to believe, makes the story worthwhile. Constant contact with painters unbound by monastic rules only increases the temptations, which he tries to channel toward its acceptable object. Beauty is divine, therefore re-creating it in religious art serves God. If, however, the act of creation involves a little transgression here and there, well, He’ll understand.

Consequently, it’s not Fra Filippo’s strengths as an artist, nor his seemingly effortless rise to fame, that make The Painter of Souls worth reading. Rather, it’s Pippo’s weaknesses as a friar and a man that propel this novel–the whoppers he tells on the spur of the moment; the deals and excuses he makes with himself so that he can still feel honorable; his delight in the forbidden; and the pull his former life still exerts on him (and its vivid portrayal in Kazan’s deft hands).

Pippo understands that he’s a sinner, and though he loves nothing more than to paint, part of him fears accepting the offer of a dispensation to remain a friar while still becoming a member of the painter’s guild, a privilege offered to very few. Who is he, a sensualist with a brush, or a man of God?

Pippo has one other endearing trait that helps counteract the smoothness of his career arc. He believes that there’s good in everyone, and whenever he can, he uses social outcasts as his models, finding grace in them that no one else does. It’s hard to quarrel with that, and with The Painter of Souls, even if the story seems incredible, at times.
… (mais)
 
Assinalado
Novelhistorian | 1 outra crítica | Jan 31, 2023 |
Onorio Celavini, one of sixteenth-century Florence’s two police inspectors (to use a broad term), has a typical case on his hands, or so it seems. Near a bridge, a man lies dead, the apparent victim of a gang attack, for he’s taken two of his assailants with him.

Known as a seducer of other men’s wives, he’s unmourned in many circles, but as a wealthy, powerful aristocrat, his death matters to officialdom — more so when a well-born woman dies soon afterward, the crimes apparently connected.

Celavini has heard this all before and is sick of it; whatever a man has done, a woman winds up paying for it. But that’s life, in Florence or elsewhere, and orders are orders — solve this case, and quickly. So he bends his considerable skills to the investigation, aided by an enviable coolness in the face of danger, product of his years as a mercenary, and his knowledge of Tuscany and its politics, lessons that any successful soldier imbibes in the field.

However, Celavini gets a surprise when he hears a familiar name associated with the crime, one he knew in his youth but had thought extinct. That brings these murders close to home. But though the investigator’s personal involvement is an old device, it’s different here. Unlike most mysteries, the real puzzle is Celavini himself, and The Phoenix of Florence tells a tale more of revenge than of who done it, more Count of Monte Cristo than Sherlock Holmes.

Don’t let that stop you, and don’t be surprised when the criminal investigation leaves off, and a long section of Celavini’s past takes over — for more than half the book. Kazan is less interested in who killed whom than in why men and women are the way they are, the greatest mystery there is. And I strongly suggest that if you let yourself follow his lead, you will be richly rewarded.

Human nature, venal or honest, evil or benign, comes into full view, but the crux of the novel, I think, has to do with strength, weakness, and who perceives them, that perception often having deeper consequences than it should. What Celavini does with this provides both a satisfying story and a fitting ending.

It’s a brave author who departs for two hundred pages from the main narrative, but Celavini’s past is the main story. I’ll say that it’s rather violent, so be warned, but I dare give nothing else away — The Phoenix of Florence tests this reviewer’s mettle.

One way Kazan grips you, digression or not, is the prose. So many historical novels have been set in Florence (or Venice) that they’re practically a trope by now. But this one’s different, in many ways.
… (mais)
 
Assinalado
Novelhistorian | 1 outra crítica | Jan 28, 2023 |
The Phoenix of Florence shifts tantalisingly between genres in its journey through Renaissance Tuscany. At first it seems like a police procedural – as the protagonist, Comandante Celavini, is woken to go and attend a crime scene in Florence and begin his investigation.

Then the discovery of a connection to his own life leads into an account of Celavini’s past as a mercenary and adventurer. Finally, the two elements of the story are brought together as Celavini acts on what he has learnt in the course of the investigation to address the injustices of the past.

If I’m being a bit vague, that’s intentional. There is so much in this story which is cleverly, gradually revealed. I particularly liked the subtle characterisation, and the voice of Celavini, who is strong but compassionate, respected but aloof.

This is a twisty and atmospheric historical mystery with a dash of action and adventure, which also asks questions about what people will do to gain and keep power in dangerous times.
*
I received a copy of The Phoenix of Florence from the publisher.
Read more of my reviews on my blog https://katevane.com/blog
… (mais)
 
Assinalado
KateVane | 1 outra crítica | Mar 1, 2019 |
The lovely people at Pegasus Books sent me the book that I'll be reviewing in today's post. :-)

Philip Kazan's The Painter of Souls is the fictionalized story of a real artist from the 15th century by the name of Fra' (as in Friar) Filippo Lippi. What is known about the friar is that he wasn't a particularly good friar but he was an excellent painter. Despite taking orders, he remained a street urchin at heart and therefore his priorities weren't always aligned with the church. A work of historical fiction should make the reader want to go out and learn more about the topic/person/time period. This book does that and so much more. Kazan took what little was known of the man and spun out a tale of someone who straddled the line between man of God and man of sensuality. The Painter of Souls is set in Florence, Italy and the majority of the narrative takes place inside the Carmelite convent or the streets among the destitute and lawless. I always enjoy books that transport me to places that I might not have much knowledge about (if any at all). After finishing this, I looked up some of the artwork of Lippi because it was that which inspired Kazan to dedicate a series (yes, this is a series) to the man. If you're an art lover or would like to learn more about what it was like to live in Italy during the 15th century then this book can fulfill all of your wishes. Also, if you're curious to know about what it was like to poop in 15th century Italy I highly recommend this book. 💩 LEARNING IS GREAT.… (mais)
 
Assinalado
AliceaP | 1 outra crítica | Apr 15, 2016 |

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Prémios

Estatísticas

Obras
5
Membros
116
Popularidade
#169,721
Avaliação
3.8
Críticas
5
ISBN
24

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