Berger's luminous intelligence, his passion, his capacity to imagine, is one of the joys of my life. That he wrote,'A Painter on Our Time' in the mid 1950s reveals his prodigal vision ( a moment, incidentally, when he made the crucial career decision to opt for writing over painting, on the basis that he could reach further & more powerfully in print). Odd, for me, that I have so recently come to this, his initial, published work.It is as prescient as ever; the dilemna of the creative stirrings in a being, the dilemna between art & life, searchingly and exactingly laid out in the journals of his fictional, Hungarian, self-exiled painter. His social conscience, his memory, his ambitions are convincingly unpacked, and with the narrator as guide and amplifier to these confessions, we journey to where we know from the books early pages,Lavin's return to tumultuous Hungary. Berger wrote an afterword to the book in 1988, disclosing, amongst other things, the actual friends who inspired his fictional artist. With them he had shared the sense that pain is the source of human imagination. It is not to be avoided, refused, repressed, and regarded as undignified. In mid-career, Berger opted out of the hurly burly of the English media to embrace the underprivileged peasant lives of a small, French mountain community, from where he has written about their lives with the penetrating sympathy he demonstrated in his fictional Hungarian. For more on art visit>rodmoss.com