Early in Sophie Madeline Dess's extraordinary debut novel, readers come to understand two things: 1. Artist Ava's solo show consists entirely of portraits of her filmmaker brother, Demetri; 2. Demetri is dying. This setup could portend a maudlin sentimentality, offering little more than the catharsis of a good cry. But Dess demands so much more, both from her story of these brilliant and broken siblings and from her audience.
The novel, framed as the unconventional catalog written by Ava to accompany her show, is awash in painterly observations of color, texture, light, stance. Though it does, in fact, catalog the work, (ex: "Pupils, oil on linen, medium/ Please look at this one the longest.") it also tells the story of the siblings' overlapping and often tortured existence. Dess plays with imagery of reflections and mirrors throughout, underscoring the way Ava and Demetri seem to exist only through the creative perceptions of the other. Their estranged father probes, "neither of you are free, do you see?" and though he adds, "But I'm sure you already understand that," his words are more hope than certainty.
Despite the raw candor Ava seems incapable of hiding, readers will doubt her, marveling at the details of all she looks at while noting the things she may never fully see--her brother, her art, and herself. But they will not question the energy coursing through What You Make of Me nor the undeniable talent that created it. This is a fierce and unapologetic debut from a writer to watch. --Sara Beth West, freelance reviewer and librarian