Thomas Schlesser; trans. Hildegarde Serle
Mona’s Eyes by Thomas Schlesser, translated from the French by Hildegarde Serle, is the story of ten-year-old Mona’s excursion into the world of art.
Mona’s journey begins when she is suddenly struck by a mysterious episode of blindness. Although her bout with blindness is temporary with Mona regaining her vision within a few hours, her parents are understandably very concerned. They consult a doctor who runs a series of tests and scans. When the results reveal that there is no physical cause for the blindness, the doctor suggests Mona visit a psychiatrist. Her maternal grandfather, known as Dadé, agrees to accompany her to her psychiatrist’s appointment every Wednesday. But instead of doing so, he unilaterally decides Mona would be better off visiting famous works of art in Paris museums. He tells Mona these expeditions are to be their little secret, urging her to deceive her parents.
Mona’s adventure into the world of art begins. Over the course of a year, Mona and Dadé visit the Louvre, the Musée D’Orsay, and the Centre Pompidou. They stand before a different work of art each week. Together they gaze intently at it, study it, discuss it, interpret it, and derive a lesson from it. Dadé provides a brief background on each artist’s life and contextualizes the work within an artistic movement. The work is described in detail. More often than not, Mona points out details that her grandfather overlooked. As the visits progress, she recognizes the influence on one artist’s work with another even though they are centuries apart, articulates connections between different artistic movements, and interprets the art work unassisted. And there’s the rub.
It is highly improbable that a ten-year-old child could have Mona’s prodigious memory or have her analytical powers when viewing a work of art. Her exchanges with Dadé are pedantic and come across as clumsy prompts to invite him to share context. And when she is not prompting him, she launches into an analysis of the art work that far exceeds the capabilities of a ten-year-old. Her Dadé comes across as arrogant and irresponsible. He encourages her to deceive her parents. And his constant amazement at his granddaughter’s erudite comments come across as hackneyed and tiresome.
The weekly visits to the museums are couched in minor plot lines with Mona’s school, her father’s business and struggles with alcoholism, her mother’s frenetic behavior, and the mystery surrounding her grandmother’s death. The plot lines are insignificant, and trite; the characterization, weak.
Schlesser’s novel-writing skills fall far short of his credibility as an art critic. He offers some interesting insights into the art works. He is informative and lucid when analyzing structure and composition. But when he interprets a work and derives its “lesson,” he gets into murky waters. Does a work of art have to be reduced to a lesson? Does it have to “mean” something? Can it not just be?