Sarah Crowley

The Society Sarah Crowley

Artistic genius is rare. Women inhabited by such a state, rarer. Or so it would seem. Without citing that through previous centuries women have suffered fairly universal subjugation - then producing a meager list of gifted women who did exist in spite of everything; let's concede there are few examples! Ever wonder if history was lazy or negligent in record keeping, even downright malicious, and perhaps somehow a genius woman or two or three, might have fallen through the cracks of time, never to be revered or acknowledged? What if I presented to you unequivocal evidence that just prior to the twentieth century, dwelling in the city of New York, there lived a group of female painters of outstanding brilliance? During their lifetime these women enjoyed widespread fame. At present, save for one person, they're entirely unknown. My novel, THE SOCIETY, begins as a succinct letter. Terminating the note, the signature reads: Jane Wells, whose tale follows as a sort of prolonged post-script. The title refers to a prestigious group of female painters (fictitious), whose notoriety is mostly but not solely due to their talent. Their full name: The Lady of Shalott Society. So, what follows Jane's letter is her written remembrance of life in this special club, concluding with her explanation as to why within the duration of a single night, the Society was rendered obsolete.
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