EXPOSED

A short philosophical novel about art, time, and memory.

Narrator Louis Claret finds himself at a melancholy point in his life. He’s divorced from his wife, Anne, and his two daughters are grown and living far away. Claret has for many years been an English teacher in a French lycée, a career he no longer finds particularly interesting or challenging. Out of the blue, Alexandre Laudin, a former student, invites him to the opening of an art show. Although Laudin is an up-and-coming artist who is starting to develop an international reputation, he has never been particularly close to his former teacher, and he has an agenda in arranging their reconnection: He wants to paint Claret’s portrait. Claret is both mystified and intrigued by this request, and he shows up at Laudin’s studio for multiple sessions. As the artist continues to develop a series of sketches leading up to a portrait (actually three—he decides to make a triptych), an intimacy grows between them, one with erotic overtones. Louis finds his life beginning to change in bewildering but significant ways. For one thing, his perceptions become more aesthetically inclined. In looking at his kitchen table, for example, he notices that “the cups, spoons, and pack of sugar are there, pointless. They would make a magnificent still life.” He also finds himself becoming more possessive—even jealous—of the artist, feeling “like some jilted mistress begging for attention.” This is a quiet novel, one in which most of the events are internal. Blondel allows us to enter Claret's mind and heart, to feel the sadness and lost moments of his life. When Claret finally confronts the finished portrait, his emotions are intense, complex, and ambivalent, and it’s clear that through the process of aesthetic transformation he’s reached a new awareness about his life.

A subtle and at times radiant read.