Whoever said, ‘never judge a book by its cover?' Prejudging The Pornographer of Vienna’s cover: A mistress [probably] whose female genitals are exposed on the spine of the book, I knew what I was getting myself into. I was deeply immersed into Schiele’s mysterious world of sex, paint, whores, art and his relationship with Gustav Klimt.
Lewis Crofts unveils Schiele’s story-a tragic artist who was a genius in his own right. He was ever so passionate and severely ambitious: leaving his bourgeois upbringing behind him for the ‘grand’ lifestyle in Vienna so he could establish himself as an artist. However, as always, nothing is what it seems...he is strained by the hardship of money and the hypocritical nature of the art world.
This is a beautiful book that is fuelled by Crofts precious words that are judiciously used to echo the evocative effect of schiele’s paintings.
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