“‘Can you sit very still?’ Tartuffe presses. ‘Can you be absolutely silent? Can you promise not to interrupt me, not to touch anything, not distract me? Can you live as a shadow except when I need you to be the Young Man with Orange?’”

Tartuffe’s series of questions establishes the oppressive power dynamic between the male artist and his subject. By demanding Joseph become a silent “shadow,” Tartuffe strips him of his identity as a writer and reduces him to a passive object. This initial exchange between the artist and his model demonstrates Tartuffe’s demand for absolute control over others in his art and his life.

“His paintings depict a world in which people have always just left the scene: someone was here but now they have gone.”

This description of Tartuffe’s artistic style characterizes his work as a landscape of absence and loss. The imagery of emptiness and traces of departed people creates a tone of melancholy and hints at the character’s deep-seated trauma. This passage hints at the central mystery of Tartuffe’s self-imposed exile and connects to the theme of Patriarchy as Rot by showing how his “paintings depict a world” of loneliness and lifelessness.

“‘But … what about truth?’ he says. ‘I want to tell the truth. Isn’t that the very point of art? To articulate a truth there is no other way of expressing? To clarify something, to give it a shape?’”

Joseph’s idealistic questions engage with the novel’s central theme of appearances versus reality. His belief that art’s purpose is to reveal an essential truth contrasts sharply with Ettie’s pragmatism. This dialogue foreshadows the later revelation of her forgery, which overthrows the perceived “truth” of Tartuffe’s.

“He broke open the cage and grabbed the bird in his fist—the little thing was no bigger than a chicken’s egg—and squeezed until it stopped singing. […] That was how Ettie learned to be silent.”

This flashback illustrates a moment of formative trauma, revealing the source of Ettie’s silence and submissiveness. Tartuffe’s act of extreme cruelty, crushing a songbird that represented Ettie’s own nascent voice, is a key manifestation of patriarchy as rot. The simile that establishes the goldfinch was “no bigger than a chicken egg” emphasizes the bird and Ettie’s helplessness in the situation as well as the overwhelming psychological violence that shaped her.

“I don’t judge anyone who chooses life over death.”

Ettie’s statement to Joseph reveals her core philosophy and solidifies their bond. Her validation of his choice to be a conscientious objector contrasts with the patriarchal judgment he receives from his father.

“‘Tata is not telling you that the sun is shining,’ explains Ettie. ‘He is making you feel the warmth on your skin.’ She reaches out a hand and touches it lightly to Joseph’s cheek. ‘He is putting the feeling here.’”

Here, Ettie displays her deep artistic insight, teaching Joseph to connect with the sensory experience of a painting. This moment highlights the theme of appearances versus reality, as she explains the emotional “truth” of art. Ironically, her lesson helps Joseph appreciate the forgeries he does not yet know she creates.

“Then she strikes a match and sets the painting on fire.”

Joseph’s feverish vision of Ettie’s shocking rebellion marks a turning point in the novel and foreshadows the revelation that Ettie forges Tartuffe’s paintings. The act of destruction employs the motif of fire as a tool of feminist resistance.

“‘You make him sound like a god,’ is all she says.”

Ettie’s terse reaction to Joseph’s laudatory article exposes the chasm between public perception and private reality. Her observation is an ironic commentary on the myth-making Joseph has engaged in, showing the theme of appearances versus reality. The line undercuts the romanticized image of the male genius, revealing Ettie’s unvarnished and weary insight into her uncle’s true character. Her words also carry irony because, unbeknownst to Joseph, she’s proven that Tartuffe’s “godlike” artistic skills can be replicated.

“‘There is only one artist in this house,’ he whispered. ‘And it will never be you.’”

This passage is a foundational moment of Tartuffe’s psychological abuse toward his niece. This scene demonstrates the patriarchal suppression that defines her life and provides the central motivation for her secret rebellion. Steeds’s verb choice (“whispered”) emphasizes the intimate, insidious nature of his cruelty as he seeks to keep her artistic ability a secret.

“‘Absinthe,’ Ettie says, her voice harsher now. ‘It makes men mad.’”

Ettie’s lies to Joseph develop the theme of appearance versus reality as she attempts to gaslight him into doubting his senses and memories. Her refusal to share the truth about the painting’s burning reveals that the novel’s central couple have yet to achieve mutual trust.

“There is only one story for women: They stay at home.”

Ettie’s bleak summation of the female experience articulates the patriarchal limitations she faces, which contrast sharply with the male stories of adventure and journey. Her words encapsulate her feeling of being trapped, underscoring the theme of patriarchy as rot and suggesting that feminist resistance is inherently subversive as it must challenge dominant narratives.

“Beware of women, Joseph. […] Women … they get in the way.”

Tartuffe’s warning to Joseph reveals the misogynistic ideology that underpins his control over the household. He frames women as obstacles to male artistic creation, a philosophy that justifies his suppression of both his sister and his niece. This statement articulates the novel’s exploration of patriarchy as rot, portraying it as a source of isolation and stagnation.

“There is only one Tartuffe, my dear. And it will never be you.”

Raimondi’s dismissal of Ettie’s art mirrors Tartuffe’s earlier declaration, demonstrating how the patriarchal art world systemically excludes female talent. His words represent the institutional gatekeeping that denies women recognition, regardless of their skill. This moment reinforces Ettie’s motivation for covertly resisting the two men through her forgeries, as she is told forging her own identity as an artist is impossible.

“This isn’t about what would be good to eat. It’s about what would look good on a canvas. So think colours, think shapes.”

Ettie’s instructions to Joseph reveal the primacy of aesthetics over life at the farmhouse. The feast is not for sustenance but for visual composition, symbolizing how reality is manipulated for the sake of art. This line emphasizes the theme of appearances versus reality and offers a reminder that Tartuffe’s art depends upon Ettie’s skill and labor.

“Why are there so many women in paintings but so few doing the painting? […] Why should women only be looked at, and never do any of the looking?”

Peggy’s pointed questions articulate the novel’s central feminist critique of the art world. She challenges the historical objectification of women, who are relegated to the roles of muse and model rather than creator. This dialogue makes the theme of subversion and destruction as feminist resistance explicit, questioning the patriarchal gaze that dominates artistic tradition.

“Tata cannot read.”

Ettie’s revelation about Tartuffe’s illiteracy is a key plot twist that shatters Joseph’s perception of the artist and Ettie. This simple fact dismantles the myth of the omnipotent male genius, exposing Tartuffe’s vulnerability and his dependence on Ettie. The moment fundamentally alters the household power dynamic and reinforces the theme of appearances versus reality by revealing that Ettie is the one who invited Joseph to the house and set the novel’s events into motion.

“Part of me wants to hurt Tata. To fool Raimondi. I want to exact some glimmer of revenge on them. To sting them, without them knowing I am doing it.”

This quote reveals that Ettie’s forgery is not just about proving her talent but also a deliberate act of covert revenge. The verbs “hurt,” “fool,” and “sting” underscore her aggressive intent, reframing her artistic mimicry as a weapon against the men who have oppressed her in an important passage for subversion and destruction as feminist resistance.

“When they buy Tata’s work, are they buying a piece of art or a piece of Tata? Why don’t they want this if I painted it? What is it about my hands that renders the brushstrokes less valuable?”

Ettie’s rhetorical questions cut to the heart of the art world’s misogyny. She separates the physical artwork from the artist’s identity, questioning why her gender diminishes its worth. This challenges the patriarchal logic that values the male name attached to a work over the piece’s objective quality and highlights the theme of appearance versus reality.

“Steal, steal, steal. Steal these thin hours to eke out a life. Snatch a handful of time from the gathering night. Create a world within the darkness.”

The anaphoric repetition of “steal” reframes Ettie’s nightly artistic practice as an act of resistance against a system that has withheld time and creative space from her. The short sentences create an urgent, breathless tone that mirrors the furtiveness of her situation.

“Light is the one thing that evades me …The one thing I cannot pin down. It torments me, the fact that I cannot—ever—grasp it.”

Tartuffe’s confession exposes an unbreakable link between his personal character flaws and his identity as an acclaimed artist. His focus on light, a celebrated hallmark of his paintings, is revealed to the manifestation of his fear-driven obsession with controlling everyone and everything around him. His “torment” over his inability to “pin down” light illustrates patriarchy as rot.

“No, thinks Ettie with a flare of defiance. Her talent is all her own. Cultivated in secret. Practised under cover of darkness. Quashed, hidden, smothered. It is no one else’s but hers. Sustained by her bright, blazing self.”

In this passage, Steeds lists suppressive verbs (“quashed, hidden, smothered”) before pivoting to Ettie’s declarative claim of self-authorship, which defies the suggestion that her skill comes from her uncle or her biological father, Cézanne. The fire imagery in “bright, blazing self” links her personal identity to a motif that brings both destruction and liberation.

“Ettie has given herself a place at the table.”

The sentence stands alone as a paragraph, its isolation enhancing its weight. The phrase operates simultaneously as a literal description and as a metaphor for her desire for inclusion within the art world’s institutions. By adding a 13th chair to Tartuffe’s composition, Ettie converts his work into hers, transforming forgery into authorship through a single, deliberate artistic choice.

“Onto the bonfire she places all her pain and resentment. All her disappointments, her crumpled dreams, her frustrated wishes, and her wasted years. She puts her mother’s death, her lost life with Amir, the nights of madness, the torment, the hexes, the secrets, everything, she heaps onto the waiting pyre.”

The catalog of Ettie’s losses, including “her mother’s death” and “her lost life with Amir” collapses time, reinforcing that this single act is a form of resistance and liberation for a lifetime of suppression and suffering. The passage’s use of long, flowing lists helps to transform the climactic fire into a ritualistic purging of past trauma.