A sweet and thoughtful novel, a little bit lonely, Henry James looking back on an interesting and humane life and set of relationships, father and sister and artist friends. Contemplative but never (terribly, I suppose it is in the eye of the beholder) dry, James’s life makes for an interesting platform for exploration of life, death, friends and family. I should probably read more of James’s work, and I guess Tóibín’s while I’m at it.