‘This is a well-written, well-researched, thoughtful, saddening book about a sad, self-deluded, gifted, bitter, unrecognised man, Antoine Lasalle... It is also a study in the conduct of historical research, of finesse and determination on the part of Sylvie Kleiman-Lafon, for Lasalle was a man who left few biographical materials behind him. What we read here is a triumph in discovering a life, a book whose clarity and occasional humour, with the art that conceals art, kindly obscures months of unusually difficult, boring, and fatiguing work in archives and libraries.’ Dorinda Outram H-France Review