Rachel Cusk's LIFE of M Maligns "Natalie Portman" in a Presumptious Novel to Pass on

I've been a fan Rachel Cusk's literary works. I'm not the only one - Natalie Portman has promoted Cusk's books on her literary platforms and forged a familiarity with the author. Perhaps, the purported friendly recognition between Cusk and the Acad. Award winning actress was blown out of proportion and inflated by Cusk's already engorged ego. I may have fabricated that last opinion, nonetheless, Cusk is culpable of creating a work of "fiction" that analyzes character traits of celebrities and more egregiously of attributing these attributes in a thinly disguised intimation of Portman. The easily identifying marks include her child stardom, portraying a ballet dancer and living abroad in Paris with her young children. I cannot disregard Cusk's clever and engrossing style, however, this only makes her presumptions of the "anonymous" actor more devious. I admit to falling prey to the controversy surrounding a seemingly illicit representation of Portman in Cusk's most recent novel "Life of M."  It's factual that Portman and Cusk have met on numerous social occasions and garnered a familiar acknowledgment of one another. Praises be to both Portman and Cusk for being innovaters in their artistic venues. In "Life of M" (one letter off from N), Cusk merges auto-fiction with editorializing the exclusive and indulgent lifestyle of celebrities. The connections between fame and artifice drawn by Cusk is credible, calculating and for the most part, unflat-tering. A particularly harsh critique of M comes in a scene in an art gallery. M's artist friend has a showing of her paintings. "She {M} has always been gently supportive of her friend, admiring her for her artistic integrity. The same quality, integrity, is something M experiences as a kind of absence within herself. It is something she recognizes only in other people. It is like a vital organ that was removed from her early on and for which she is forever trying to find the replacement. She has had to teach herself how to life and behave with integrity." Cusk makes demeaning allegations of M as a neglectful parent; delegating most of her responsibilities and for becoming inured of her highly preferential treatment as a famous movie star. Towards the end of the novel "Life of M," M asks the author to her home to discuss her dismay with her portrayal which the author refutes. "I don't like the way you portray me, she said.  Actually, it's hurtful. But it isn't you, I said. It isn't anyone. She looked at me coldly. You've made it seem like I lack humanity, she said. You've made it seem like I'm unable to love." I agree with this ingenious critiquing by Cusk of the actor confronting her. I ineffectually denounce reading "Life of M" for the sham facade of Portman. Still, it's hard not to admire Cusk's prowess as an author, essayist and conniver. "Can it be true that work, in the end, has proved more lasting than love? or is it that work, without us realizing it, has somehow interfered with our capacity to love?"