A Novel About Amy Leve by Oscar Wilde

Amy levy struggled with her personal life, harboring a belief that she was unattractive and couldn't find a lasting, fulfilling relationship. Like all her best work, it is sad, but the sadness is by no means morbid. She was never robust, not often actually ill, but seldom well enough to feel life a joy instead of a burden. Her work was not poured out lightly, but drawn drop by drop from the very depth of her own feeling. The loss is the world's, but perhaps not hers.