I was very moved by this book, in spite of some elements that I found to be rather lacking in depth or thought. Although the novel is touted for its eroticism, and is brave in its depiction of the liberties and dangers that go along with intimate, 'forbidden' sex, the protagonist's (Honora) romantic liaison was the least interesting aspect for this reader. We've seen this before: married artistic man + intelligent and passionate lover = disappointment. But what we haven't seen at all enough of, and what _Blood_ so compellingly explores, is the profound possibility that opens up when women artists push the boundaries of friendship.

Traxler's beautiful portrayal of Devi, cultured and brilliant Indian poet, is extraodrinarily fine. The growing friendship and the creative inspiration between Honora and Devi is marvelous, really well done and quite believable. So all that goes along with it, and the pain of loss that is at the heart of this novel, is especially difficult to read. Honora's paintings of Devi, and the decisions she must make about their exhbition, are extremely well-rendered.

At the book's end I was surprised by the message its conclusion conveys, seemingly in spite of itself: love is to be trusted, as is art, but it is friendship (particularly that between women), not romantic/sexual love, which ultimately provides a kind of salvation. I'm not at all confident that this was the author's intention, but it was more than good enough for me.

The book also serves as a kind of memorial to Radcliffe's Bunting Fellowships (here referred to as "Larkins"), which still exist but are now open to men and thus have been changed utterly. Traxler, the one-time recipient of a Bunting, is sensitive in her appreciation and questioning of the exclusivity of the program. Honora's initial skepticism about 'sisterhood' and eventual, earned reliance on and trust in the all-female program make this a sort of elegy for one of the VERY few fellowship programs in the country that, up until recently, so actively supported the work of women scholar and artists.

One caveat: the character sketch of Clara, possesive and unhinged South American quasi-lesbian, is rather difficult to take. The broad strokes Traxler uses here, as if to provide a counter-model of the dangers of female love and friendship, are in contrast to her fine detail and emotional richness elsewhere. She seems out of her depth here.

From the very first page there is a foreshadowing of blood and tragedy, but thirty-five years old Norrie is the happiest she's been in her life. She is thrilled to have been awarded the Larkin Fellowship at Radcliff where they pay her for one year to paint in a studio of her own and relocate her to an apartment in Harvard Housing where she intends to do the brunt of her painting.

Her lover, Michael, an accomplished writer, is married but he seems ready to leave his wife and children for her. Having her own apartment, (her last one she shared with a roommate) allows Norrie and Michael to spend a lot of quality time together there. The only fly in the ointment is Clara, Norrie's next door neighbor, whose possessiveness turns Norrie against her. When one of the Larkies who happens to be Norrie's best friend is murdered, everyone on campus thinks Clara did it even though there is no evidence linking her to the crime.

BLOOD is an erotic, dark and foreboding work that is more about different relationships than a typical murder mystery. The first person narrative makes the action up close and personal while allowing the audience an insightful view into Norrie's thought processes. The action, though there's not a lot of it, is pivotal to the story line. Patricia Traxler is a very talented writer who exposes the dark side of the human psyche to the audience.

Harriet Klausner