I thought I wouldn't be able to read another novel about the London art world after Stewart Home's hilarious and painful 'Slow Death'. But I enjoyed this enough to want to write briefly about it. Alex is thirtyish, an advertising creative and lives with an artist. She's given up being an artist herself, since she lost her partner in an accident. Most of the London scenes are conversations she has with Erica, a colleague at the agency, her flatmate Conrad, and Rachel, an artist friend of Conrad's. They talk about art, relationships, other people, and the state of the world. The characters are thoughtful and bright and morally serious, which is what I most liked about it. There's not much plot; I suppose it’s not that kind of book. The interspersed scenes in Central America never held my interest in the way the London ones did. Moreover, sometimes information seems wilfully withheld - such as what actually happened in the rainforest, and who Alex's colleague Erica is going out with - which for me just created exasperation rather than suspense. There are some underdeveloped subplots too - such as who Michael, the ad agency owner, is, and what he's up to. But I was extremely relieved that Alex didn't 'start to paint' again at the end of the novel, as characters tend to in less well-written instances of this genre. Basically, the strength of the book is in the rather stylish writing and the convincingly young, liberal, arty environment where the characters hang out, along with some comedy, some very moving moments and a lot of nice commentary on modern urban life.