We begin with a couple, gallivanting and giggling, having sex on the beach. Sex that is about bodies and movement and pleasure. Sex that is carnal and significant and somehow indicative of a decades-long marriage between two utterly selfish, but deeply developed, characters that was entirely captivating. Groff's assessment of ego is enshrined in absolutely stunning prose with bracketed allusions and additions that really worked. 

Lotto and Mathilde meet at a college party, fall hard and fast, and find themselves married and financially cut off within just a couple of months. As the paragraphs bounce between timelines, we discover painful details of Lotto's childhood and the origins of his artistry which becomes his success. The gluttony of this half of the novel is heavy but delicious, only becoming more rich when the perspective switches halfway through. 

This is a book about marriage, about power, about beauty. It is an homage to the arts and to literature, a celebration of Greek and Shakespearian tragedy that I wish I knew and could appreciate more fully. There is so much beneath the surface of this work of prose, and Groff successfully pulled me right into the depths.