[As] regards Monet, I have … just had my eyes opened a bit wider by a little novel, a mere 91-page novel, called Light…. Nothing could be simpler than the form of this book, which begins before dawn on what is to be an idyllic summer's day in 1900, and follows the artist, Claude Monet, through the hours of work, of eating and drinking with his family and guests, and into the evening, the late evening, when the world is once again dark.

There is no plot or story, in fact; one might call this little novel "impressionistic," although it doesn't resemble certain novels that could carry that description once upon a time. Instead, Light is what its title tells us: it represents Monet as a cunning hunter of light itself,… who has made his house and garden into a vast and intricate trap for light, which can be caught...