I know nothing about art criticism except that it appears
almost as pretentious as literary criticism. Moreover, I know nothing
(formalistically, anyway) about art except how an individual piece makes me
feel. That did not, however, alter my thorough and utter enjoyment of Hilary
Sloin’s Art on Fire, an incredible faux biography of the
fictional Francesca deSilva.
Francesca deSilva is a subversive lesbian artist whose life
was shaped by her restrained childhood under her parents, Alphonse and Vivian,
who considered Francesca’s sister Isabella to be the genius of the family.
Chapters about her home life, including an incident where she’s discovered in
bed with Lisa Sinsong, a chess master, her flight to Cape Cod and her rise to
fame as a painter are interspersed with detailed descriptions and analyses of
her thirteen extant paintings.
Far from dull, these essays are hilarious, pointed
mini-satires on art criticism (complete with fake footnotes) that illuminate the
chapters of deSilva’s life at the same time they bring her fictional body of
work to life. Sloin clearly sees these paintings in her head, and her ability
to convey that to the reader is astounding.
But mini-satires, as wonderful as they are, does not a novel
make. You need characters and plot and tension to drive the reader through the
pages. And Art on Fire has these things in spades. Francesca is
marvelously detailed, as resentful of her sudden fame as she is dependent on
it—the very epitome of genius, creating work worth thousands of dollars yet
living in a cabin with no toilet or running water. Complicated and tortured by
longing for the one love she cannot have, her ache haunts her art.
But even more interesting than Francesca—if that’s possible—is
her sister Isabella, a doomed alcoholic writer whose early bloom of literary
genius was the only fruition of her talent. Her suicide attempts seem as
natural as her odd obsession with Anne Frank. Francesca has the talent Isabella
seeks as well as the courage she needs and, strangely enough, Francesca seems
to have derived that strength from being overlooked by her parents in favor of
her sister.
In addition to the sisters, Sloin draws some detailed
portraits of two other characters worth mentioning: the aforementioned Lisa
Sinsong and Francesca’s paternal grandmother Evelyn. Lisa is Francesca’s first
and only love, a brilliant Asian American chess master with an overbearing
father and a mother who committed suicide. Evelyn is a brilliantly constructed
character who we see falling apart from Alzheimer’s. Both of these women
influence Francesca’s work as well as her life.
But a description of the book really can’t do it justice.
Let this one seep into your mind and work its magic on you. It’s the superb craftmanship
of a master storyteller at work.
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