March 18, 2002
Cultural Prozac
and
ecstasies of coziness
and
golden blurs of unattainable bliss
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Temperatures climbed
to the mid 40's today under a blindingly bright sun and remarkably
blue sky. Dealing with late winter hunger, the deer are
wandering the area during all times of the day and night in their
search for food.
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Furthermore, once the novel gets into
even the most tepid doings of its
characters it begins to drift away from the ecstasies of
coziness conjured by Kinkade's paintings.
The interiors of all his
preternaturally adorable cottages appear to the viewer as golden
blurs of unattainable bliss; you can no more plausibly
imagine living in them than you can
picture frolicking on the surface of the
sun. Kinkade has made an entire,
hugely lucrative career out of invoking
and vulgarizing the dreamy experience of taking an
evening walk and admiring the homely warmth emanating from
the neighbors' windows.
Laura Miller, from her review of Thomas Kinkade's
Cape Light,
The New York Times.
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