Interior by Edgar Degas, 1868
Nobody has ever settled what's happening in here. It's carried two titles almost from the start, one of them far uglier than the other, and people have spent a century hunting for the novel it's supposed to illustrate without ever agreeing on which one.
Erisava: The only warm thing in this room is that lamp, and it doesn't reduce any of the tension. What's your take?
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