The first 75% of this is just beautiful, safe, subtle....nothing. Secondary characters fill the pages.
But the imagery is beautiful, soothing and pleasant. A false sense of security develops inside the reader.
The last quarter becomes incredibly tragic and maudlin.
And still beautiful, poetic.
I loved it but felt unsatiated at the same time. So long I had lived on the edges between things. I was rich and poor, canvas and artist, lover and whore. I had built a home there on those boundaries