This is the author's fictionalised attempt to get into the head of Lydia Cassatt as she posed for her sister, impressionist artist Mary Cassett, in Paris in the late 1880s.
Written in a stream-of-consciousness style, full of unfinished thoughts and hints of past tragedies never fully explained, this is nevertheless a quick and engrossing read. I neither loved it nor hated it, but Lydia isn't a fully three dimensional character so the story feels incomplete. What is here though makes the reader feel as though they are present in the studio, in Lydia's room, while Mary paints.
If you're a fan of Mary Cassatt you might find this of marginal interest (say, if you were to stumble upon it at the library).