Griffiths has taken the life ofFrida Kahlo as inspiration,creating a fictional autobiographythat is a passionate odeto love and creation at theirmost pure and primal. Actsthat can inspire delirious joy,or knee-jerk reactionary fear– art that has consequences beyond successfound within the four walls of a museum,the earnest documentary or the polite review– art that can incite tears and rebellion.

For this purpose, there can hardly be a bettersubject than Frida. Despite a horrific accidentas a young woman, she lived her life tothe maximum and her paintings are honestand raw outward expressions of an individual’sinner pain, depicting subject matterthat continues to resonate: love, fertility anddeath. Frida’s exuberant identification withindigenous Mexican mythology created apowerful sense of connectedness to the earthand nature, which is another window ofexpression for the author of this book.

I started reading this deceptively slim volumewith some hesitation – there have beensome notoriously melodramatic/pretentiousrenditions of the artistic life – but as I foundGriffith’s voice harmonising with what Iknow of Frida’s life, I was swept up andseduced. Through the great love that Fridahad for Diego Rivera, the pain of Frida’saccident and the subsequent loss of fertilityand motherhood; love, loss and maternalismare explored in Griffith’s whirling prose.Recently, I received a bewildering advertisementfor shoes à la Frida Kahlo – not onlydid they not look remotely Mexican (tome), they had really high heels – perhapsthat was meant to represent the metal rodsthat impaled the young Kahlo. Frida of themonobrow as fashion promotion?! Styleand guts: yes, in buckets. Griffiths has takenthese qualities and wrought a lyrical piecethat soars – and takes you with it.

Margaret Snowdon is Art & Design Buyer