Scan barcode
A review by batbones
Exposed by Jean-Philippe Blondel
5.0
No review prepares one for the exquisiteness of Blondel's prose; it's difficult to put into words its beguiling simplicity. Old age, isolation, fading into a dull and indifferent middle age, breaking out of that to find a renewed sense of freedom which is (ironically?) rooted in reliving a memory - these themes are old ground, but here they are renewed and realised. The vanishing is subtly pitted against the startlingly contemporary - casual mentions of selfies and smartphones are juxtaposed against art gallery viewings, English language teachers who love words, earnest admiration for the way colours dot a canvas.
It does the above just enough to leave a mark; Exposed does not press the point. The novella's overall style reflects the dynamic between the two main characters (painter and sitter, student and teacher) - explorative but to the point, earnest but with gentle irony. Tender and unsparing, like an artist's eye. Blondel writes persuasively about moments accruing fruitlessly into years, people slipping in and out of each other's lives, connections that break as a necessity of the passing of time, and which perhaps are in themselves a rite of passage (e.g. graduating from school). His observations are so seemingly casual and yet so sharp and undeniable, with a melancholy that only deepens the longer a reader sits with it. The most brilliant passages latch onto a minute detail, or echo feelings one had up to this point not found the right words for.
A novel partly about old age and wondering where all that time went, and partly about adolescent maturation and finding one's feet and thinking all that is behind now and being surprised when memories erupt into fresh emotions without warning. The ambiguous ending is very pleasing, and isn't out of place for a book like this. When the novel has gestured vaguely to the physical, the emotional and even the erotic, and gone no further, it seems futile to enquire into the exact nature of the intimacy between the characters. Like the rest of the novel, the ending leaves one contentedly wondering.
It does the above just enough to leave a mark; Exposed does not press the point. The novella's overall style reflects the dynamic between the two main characters (painter and sitter, student and teacher) - explorative but to the point, earnest but with gentle irony. Tender and unsparing, like an artist's eye. Blondel writes persuasively about moments accruing fruitlessly into years, people slipping in and out of each other's lives, connections that break as a necessity of the passing of time, and which perhaps are in themselves a rite of passage (e.g. graduating from school). His observations are so seemingly casual and yet so sharp and undeniable, with a melancholy that only deepens the longer a reader sits with it. The most brilliant passages latch onto a minute detail, or echo feelings one had up to this point not found the right words for.
A novel partly about old age and wondering where all that time went, and partly about adolescent maturation and finding one's feet and thinking all that is behind now and being surprised when memories erupt into fresh emotions without warning. The ambiguous ending is very pleasing, and isn't out of place for a book like this. When the novel has gestured vaguely to the physical, the emotional and even the erotic, and gone no further, it seems futile to enquire into the exact nature of the intimacy between the characters. Like the rest of the novel, the ending leaves one contentedly wondering.