Liber Amoris, Or, The New Pygmalion

A restless young man from the north of Britain, driven from his homeland by political strife and an ill‑chosen marriage, records the fervent emotions that have consumed him since a fateful attachment formed years later. He writes his thoughts by hand, hoping a change of scenery on the Continent might ease his tormented heart, yet his own frail health and despair soon claim him. The manuscript, preserved exactly as he penned it, offers an intimate glimpse into his most private feelings, unaltered and raw.

In the opening scenes, the narrator fixates on a small, delicate portrait that seems to capture the very essence of the woman he loves. He argues that the painted figure mirrors her features, her eyes, even the stubborn tilt of her forehead, and he confesses that without her affection he feels empty, his mind revolving solely around the image. Their conversation drifts between admiration for art and a desperate yearning for reciprocity, setting the tone for a tale of obsessive love and the fragile line between devotion and ruin.