This dense, busy watercolour by Carl Larsson presents a thousand different points of entry. Just take the perspective, for a start. The depth of the image is shallow, just a few yards. The whole space, both the image’s surface and the room, is littered with information, to the point where it’s almost spilling out of the frame.

We’re in the reading room at Sundborn. The room is a depiction of reality, although both its contents and the aesthetics have been interpreted to suit the artist’s purposes. The dark leather-spined books are neatly lined up along the wall-mounted shelves. This reading room is by no means all for show. In the centre of the image and the space, a bunch of books have been haphazardly strewn across the large table. They are half-opened, taken out by somebody whose mind soon raced off into a whirlwind of associations and thirst for knowledge. The “mess” doesn’t suggest carelessness so much as playful intellect. The viewer can only guess at the titles. What did a progressive family read in the early 20th century? Fortunately, we don’t have to guess. Carl Larsson has used the titles of the books to describe his painting in a rather unique way.

But it’s not merely the books that are causing the painting to vibrate with all things indicative of learning and a modern, open mind. Carl Larsson’s paintings are perhaps most loved for his heartfelt depictions of his family and their home, which was designed by his wife Karin Larsson. The colour scale she used was definitely innovative. Decorating your home in accordance with non-traditional aesthetic principles was also a sensational step to take. The style is all her own, and it seems obvious that the English Arts & Crafts movement was a parallel strain rather than an inspiration in this case. The painting presents a brilliant example of her decoration and her craftsmanship; she designed and wove the fabrics herself! The bright yellow wall above the dark wood and the blue frame. The textiles are a chapter all to themselves. The white cloth, the only clear surface in the painting, is almost a harbinger of abstract art what with its restrained colours and shapes.

At the front of the image, dressed in modern, comfortable garb (naturally woven and sewn by her mother Karin), the young Kersti is deeply engrossed in a book. So far, she is less interested in Heidenstam and Lagerlöf, who will be awarded the Nobel Prize later that same year, than she is in the book that’s in her hand. According to Carl Larsson, she’s reading the romance story Unga hjärtan (“Young Hearts”) by the popular Danish author Christopher Boeck. Next to Kersti’s head is a globe. This is an unassuming, loving way to demonstrate how you could fit an entire world inside a cluttered but safe space.

In Carl Larsson’s own words:

“THE READING ROOM. A shrine! Feel its peaceful calm, its great reverence. Sacred words, glorious hymns, serious, deep thoughts and sincere speeches, joyous songs, and sad, captivating stories, informative insights and inventive discoveries, the greatest works of art in all of history depicted… all this and more besides is found within this little cranny, between the walls of this cabin: everything – I dare say – that man has accomplished in terms of greatness can simply be plucked from these bookshelves. From Homer to doctors Lagerlöf and Heidenstam.

Whenever I succumb to despair or fatigue, I place my dear, little Pickwick across from me in the armchair, and before I know it, I'm laughing heartily; and should I ever feel lonely or abandoned, I hold my childhood friend Silvio Pellico to my heart–he is noble, pure, and faithful, he elevates me, and I soon know what to do: if I’m wanting for entertaining company, I take down Wilhelm Meister, and wander with him through pleasant environs, listening to the singing of Mignon, and hearing die Bekenntnisse einer schönen Seele. I let Fredman blither on, and let Nietzsche arouse my temper.

This, then, is the only room where I can occasionally shut myself in, recline on the couch, huff for a while, sigh, and contemplate poor Oblomov’s fate.

And this is where my little Kersti sits now. I wonder what she’s reading? Oh, Unga hjärtan? Well, she will surely rise through the ranks, until one day, in her old age, weighed down by the years and refined by grief and suffering, she will finally arrive at and appreciate the most vivid of all works literature: the Book of Books.”