Tanja’s dream is to become a muse, like Polina for Dostoevskij. When she goes in the United States she thinks that she has found his artist in Mark Schneider, a writer with beard and luxury flat.
But, strangely, Mark doesn’t write all the time. He doesn’t talk a lot about books and – very odd! – he doesn’t read a lot either. But Tanja is patient, because she knows that artists cannot be forced to create.
She needs several years before noticing that her Mark isn’t Dostoevskij, and that his artistic aspiration are bigger than his talent. Not only he reads Writerscom’ biographies to check what he has in common with famous Writers, but he is also very envious of other Writers whom he knows.
At the end of the novel, Tanja has almost forgotten her first dreams, she has married (not the writer) and got a child, when, suddently, she finds out that she has been the muse of someone…
Nice novel, because I – too – would have loved to become the muse of a writer, but gave up when I saw that there was no Canetti nor Veronesi nearby…
But very deep are also the parts where Tanja conceals to herself that Mark is just an egoistic looser. Just another point of view on women who love men not because of their personalities, but because of dreams.
Dreams are important, but if you want to live, you must be awake.