I'm barely one hundred pages in and I'm having a hard time putting down my copy of Edvard Munch: Behind The Scream by Sue Prideaux. I picked it up after it popped up as a suggested title after doing a little research and seeing mostly glowing reviews. The book is well written with photos and color illustrations of the paintings. It's thick, heavy and gorgeous. So far, it's an intriguing and compelling read.
"Once the truth was on paper he was free to put it behind him and sleep soundly. Life's difficulty had been resolved in the place that mattered, in his art. He had answered one of his own questions, 'What is art really? The outcome of dissatisfaction with life, the point of impact for the creative force, the continual movement of life...in my art I attempt to explain life and its meaning to myself.'"
I've put The Private Journals of Edvard Munch: We Are Flames Which Pour Out of the Earth on my To Read List.