The Arts Council

"The Arts Council by Dolly Gray Landon is one of the finest examples of satirical literature you will ever read ... and trust me when I say, once you've read it, you'll never forget it."—Anne Marie Reynolds, READERS' FAVORITE
 
"...This book should be read for its boldness, its humor, and its relentless pursuit of truth, making it an unforgettable addition to contemporary literature."— James B., AUTHORSREADING
 
"...a carnival mirror of the arts world ... a bold, brainy satire ... For readers who enjoy sharp, offbeat takes on creative culture, it's a fascinating ride."—LITERARY TITAN
 
"...with massive doses of wit and bite ... Landon's prose lands with witty epigrams, ornate language, and dramatic dialogue that would please the likes of Oscar Wilde ... an edgy and delightfully devilish novel..."—Jamie Michelle, READERS' FAVORITE

"...a razor-edged satirical poke at the pretentiousness of the art world ... This story is a breath of fresh air. I found it hilarious and highly recommend it."—Grant Leishman, READERS' FAVORITE

"...Readers who enjoy satirical, absurdist, and experimental storytelling ... similar to the works of Thomas Pynchon, Kurt Vonnegut, Douglas Adams, David Foster Wallace, or Chuck Palahniuk, will find The Arts Council intriguing. Fans of literary complexity akin to James Joyce might also appreciate its unique style."—Carol Thompson, READERS' FAVORITE

An arts council run by corrupt and unscrupulous philistines routinely casts its votes in favor of talentless charlatans and pretentious mediocrities for its own enrichment until one outraged young artist of irreproachable talent and attainments decides to exact her revenge against the system by exposing it for what it is: a nepotistic demeritocracy in which professional advancements are only accorded in return for financial kickbacks, horizontal refreshments, and material gratuities.

This novel is a scathing indictment of "Art by Committee," the common cultural protocol in which practitioners in all idioms of artistic expression (i.e., painters, sculptors, composers, musicians, novelists, playwrights, etc.) are, with the sole exclusion of rare cases in which the exceptions prove the rule, hard up not just for cash in support of their precarious subsistences, but also for official recognition by the power elite of the ruling classes to lend them a tinge of credibility in their Darwinian (and, dare it be said, Machiavellian) struggles to stay afloat and sustain a level of public support and acknowledgement that ensures them a primordial modicum of dignity and self-respect—albeit one that only barely empowers them to press on with their creative pursuits in peace and serenity for the sake of their minds and souls (viz., sanity)—and also (wittingly or no) for the long-term benefits to the prevailing high culture in which they find themselves so deeply enmeshed (whether in strict accordance therewith or in vehement opposition thereto).

The plot centers around two young female visual artists who are arch-rivals and ideological adversaries. One is a cunning imposter who wins pecuniary support and recognition for the meaningless rubbish she produces whilst the other is the genuine article, more concerned with the consummate technical mastery and creative artistry of her work than the high praise and/or harsh censure it incites. As mortal frenemies, both young ladies’ interactions with each other are toxic to the point where they cause one another untold pain, despair, misery, humiliation, and grief. On top of all that, they have no choice but to cave to powerful and influential members of the local arts council, each and every one of whom is an unprincipled, immoral, corrupt, depraved, and ignorant buffoon with no real interest in supporting artists per se but rather in perpetuating their own luxurious lifestyles by dint of their systematic embezzlement of funding from donor and taxpayer monies that have been earmarked in advance (at least, in theory) for allocation towards creative projects of high merit by artists of super-exceptional talent and skill (of which there are only a handful).

The story unfolds in the backdrop of a toxic political climate that is Orwellian in nature in the sense that virtually all things malign by intent (think: the Ministry of Love, which brainwashes and tortures political and ideological dissidents) are treated as if they were benign, even altruistic, in character and—whensoever it suits the powers that be—vice versa.

THE ARTS COUNCIL is a story of insatiable greed, bureaucrappic corruption, moral depravity, sadistic sexual perversion, and cold-blooded murder.

Caveat Emptor: Due to the explicit and provocative—not to say scandalous—content of this deeply unorthodox psychological thriller, it is neither recommended for the faint of heart nor for children under the age of 30.