The Last Supper

A rich meditation: on separation, on possession, on Renaissance artists, and, inevitably, on the transformative nature of travel.

Whether considering language, food or national habits, she has an amazing ability to strike at the heart of things, to look afresh and not overlook.

[Cusk] examines the whole notion of travel, investigates the consolations of art in an increasingly disfigured world, and writes about food and landscape in prose that constantly reminds us what language can do.

Enthusiastic, curious and observant . . . Cusk is a natural and gifted writer from whom dazzling descriptions, analyses, metaphors and similes gush forth in rich profusion . . . Delightful and perceptive.

A writer of almost electrifying intensity . . . This book is a ray of intricate sunlight.

Cusk . . . brings to her three-month sojourn in Italy a characteristic strangeness and charm . . . She transfigures the drab, daily round of school runs and squabbling toddlers into an exalted, terrible realm . . . A fine, exultant book.