Once there was a street in Paris and it was called the Street of Tailors. This was years back, in the blue mists of memory.
Now it’s the 1950s and Henri is the last tailor on the street. With meticulous precision he takes the measurements of men and notes them down in his leather-bound ledger. He draws on the cloth with a blue chalk, cuts the pieces and sews them together. When the suit is done, Henri adds a finishing touch: a blue Tekhelet thread hidden in the trousers somewhere, for luck. One day, the renowned French artist Yves Klein walks into the shop, and orders a suit.
Set in Paris, this atmospheric tale delicately intertwines three connected narratives and timelines, interspersed with observations of the colour blue. It is a meditation on truth and lies, memory and time and thought. It is a leap of the imagination, a leap into the void.
‘The novel—and the magic blue Tekhelet thread that stitches it together—will stay with readers forever, leaving them in a more beautiful and coincidental world.’ – Julia Nemirovskaya, poet, playwright and writer
‘This is a wonderful novella – not a word is wasted.’ – Julie Corbin, author of A Lie For A Lie
‘Seductively original, linguistically daring, almost dangerously immersive – with Blue Postcards, Douglas Bruton continues to build a deserved reputation as one of our most skilful story-tellers. A real delight.’ – Stephen May, author of the Costa shortlisted Life! Death! Prizes!
‘It is a story, unlike our ability to see colour, that haunts and intensifies rather than diminishes with time.’ – Carmen Marcus, author of How Saints Die