This haunting love story — the magnificent new historical novel by the author of the national bestseller The Fig Eater — makes unforgettably real the ravages of love and war.

Spring 1915. On a sprawling country estate not far from London, a young woman mourns her husband, fallen on a distant battlefield. The eerie stillness in which she grieves is abruptly shattered as her home is transformed into a bustling military hospital. Recoiling from the chaos, unhinged by grief, the young widow finds unexpected refuge in a tender young soldier whose face, concealed by bandages, she cannot see. Their affair takes a fateful turn when she confronts — and seizes upon — the opportunity to remake her lover in the image of her lost husband.

The Crimson Portrait is a novel of glittering surfaces that belie dark truths. Its rich cast comes into focus as the novel peels back layers of suspense and intrigue to illuminate the abiding mysteries of affinity and desire.

"A majestic English estate sees new use as a makeshift hospital for WWI's wounded in Shields's beautifully haunting second novel. After losing her husband, Charles, in WWI, Catherine honors his wish to turn their home over to the army's medical unit, and it is soon filled with men wounded in combat, such as Julian, who, though half his face has been destroyed by shrapnel, reminds her of Charles. Dr. McCleary, who left retirement to work at the hospital, bonds with Julian while trying to keep Artis, an aspiring doctor and former groundskeeper, from being drafted. Also on staff is artist Anna Coleman, who sketches the wounded for medical records and lends her artistic talents to an undertaking proposed by Dr. McCleary: he wants to create a mask for a patient with an irreparably damaged face; Anna is to paint the soldier's pre-injury face on the mask. When that soldier turns out to be Julian, Catherine secretly embarks on a plan to resurrect her husband through her new lover. Shields's writing weaves dark mythical symbolism with matter-of-fact medical nitty-gritty to reveal what happens when class, ignorance, hopefulness and despair coalesce." Publishers Weekly (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)

"No one can look at the patients in Jody Shields' new novel without flinching — but no one can look away either. The faces of these young veterans have been torn off by the inventive hardware of World War I. For the most part, though, we don't see them directly. Shields does something more unsettling: We see nurses sobbing in their rooms at night, doctors drinking in the woods and girlfriends charging..." Washington Post Book Review (read the entire Washington Post review) past the guards into the ward, only to faint when they confront what's waiting for them.

The soldiers in 'The Crimson Portrait' have suffered facial injuries so grievous that, even after their health is restored, they will not be considered human. 'They look like the damned,' one of the doctors notes, and that diagnosis inspires our imagination to summon up rich horrors. These men are 'not to be seen ... not to be mentioned,' so disturbing that they're a threat to morale, to public support for the Great War.

The stories of people who have suffered severe facial trauma hold a certain there-but-for-the-grace-of-God fascination, but in this quiet, exquisitely written novel, Shields is more interested in the caretakers. They must somehow retain a sense of their patients' humanity despite the ghastly physical evidence lying before them. The novel is inspired by the real-life stories of an artist named Anna Coleman Ladd and a dentist named Varaztad Kazanjian. Shields imagines them coming to a pastoral English estate that has been transformed into a special military hospital in 1915. Anna draws the patients to document their conditions, and Kazanjian is a master of wire and putty, recreating missing jaws and noses.

These are interesting people, but the more engaging characters are those Shields has invented. The man in charge is an experienced doctor named McCleary, who has come out of retirement in wartime to run this hospital specializing in maxillofacial surgery. Deeply scholarly and thoughtful, he knows how little can be done for these patients, but we follow him on a fascinating search for clues about how to restore damaged faces. He studies texts written hundreds of years earlier, even classical works that speculate on the nature of skin and the relationship between the face and the mind. He develops a theory about the importance of patients' thoughts, the effects of attitude on healing, the necessity of maintaining a hopeful atmosphere. Before any wounded soldiers arrive, he orders the removal of all the mirrors, even objects with reflective surfaces, and the doctors and nurses are told to 'maintain a neutral expression' no matter how shocking the injury.

But Shields tests McCleary's mind-cure optimism under the most severe circumstances. How long can these faceless men be kept in the dark, strung along by the empty promise of future surgical breakthroughs or the natural recuperative power of their bodies? 'I begin to understand the concept of hell,' McCleary confesses to a friend one night. 'Or the hell I've created. ... Hope without end.'

Another equally compelling character is Catherine Coleman, the recently widowed owner of this gracious estate-cum-hospital. Sunk in mourning, at first she wants nothing to do with the patients who have taken over her house, but gradually grief twists her perceptions. She grows convinced that one of the bandaged soldiers must be her late husband. Shields handles this with great delicacy, capturing the way Catherine hovers between admitting the truth and relishing her delusion. It's a fascinating counterpoint to McCleary's faith in the recuperative power of the imagination.

Despite this mixture of medicine and romance, 'The Crimson Portrait' is not really a hospital drama (of which we have plenty anyway) but more a meditation on healing (of which we have far too little). Although Shields' elegant prose keeps it from ever growing dull, the plot progresses about as quickly as a skin graft fuses. There are a few shocking surprises and outbursts, but for long stretches there's no apparent forward momentum as McCleary contemplates how to encourage a face to regenerate, how to join 'two wet surfaces ... or mesh snowflakes.' Shields moves from one subtle character to another, carefully turning over moments of muffled agony or muted desire. Even rare passages of dialogue seem purposely stilted and mannered to emphasize the stillness of the hospital, the endless process of waiting.

A summary of this unpleasant plot risks scaring away thoughtful readers (or mistakenly attracting ghoulish ones), but anyone interested in the profound issues Shields raises should look at 'The Crimson Portrait.' Without a false line, she's managed to write beautifully about what, on the surface, seems too hideous to contemplate.

Ron Charles is a senior editor of The Washington Post Book World." Reviewed by Ron Charles, Washington Post Book World (Copyright 2006 Washington Post Book World Service/Washington Post Writers Group)
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"There's nothing uplifting in this novel, but that shouldn't keep readers away. It's beautifully presented and...shimmers with her wonderfully descriptive and poetic style." USA Today

"The Crimson Portrait has much in common with Fields' earlier novel....Both are set in the early part of the 20th century. Both are based loosely on real events. And both are rich, multilayered tales exploring the porous boundaries of science, art and faith." Seattle Times

"Shields' graphic descriptions remind us that 1915 was a time before sophisticated plastic surgery....Also, by concentrating her narrative on facial damage the author vividly shows how the viciousness of war can deal a fate that almost equals death: the complete transformation of a man's most identifiable physical trait and the public humiliation that often accompanies the alteration." San Francisco Chronicle

"Shields's second novel...constructs a complex labyrinth of jealousy, addiction, passion, and regret as it also presents a history of maxillofacial (re: plastic) surgery and the medical arts." Library Journal

"Lovely writing and evocative details salvage a thin story." Kirkus Reviews

Set in England during World War I, this haunting love story by the author of the bestselling The Fig Eater makes unforgettably real the ravages of love and war.

Jody Shields is the author of one previous novel, The Fig Eater. She lives in New York.