See, there's a manipulative sleight of hand that Clair Obscur pulls within the text that simultaneously works on Verso and the player base as well. And I'm fascinated by how well it obscures something incredibly telling. Painter Renoir, after having lost his battle against his daughter and her friends, opens that window that reveals Aline collapsing to the floor, coughing and struggling after re-entering the Canvas. This not only convinces Verso to once again pursue the destruction of this world, but it locks seemingly every single player into Renoir's perspective too.
That to spend too much time in these painted worlds is to court death. That its allure is unbreakable to those who find what they lost or lack there. That his wife was in the Canvas so long because even she, who knew these dangers and taught him how to responsibly manage himself in these creations, fell into its trap. And that her return proves to Renoir, to Verso, to you the player, that there truly is no end except to destroy these creations.
She re-entered to help her daughter and tell off her husband for his overbearing paternalism, and promptly left. This was a tactical choice, one where she knew exactly what she was doing and had no urge to reinstate herself into her dead son's Canvas.
There's something that always bugged me about Renoir's conceit. Based on one of his journal entries, she was spending her time 'drowning' in her grief, away from the family. That she was refusing to spend time with him, that she clearly wanted to lose herself into her escapist fantasy. I don't doubt that there is an element of truth here, but when I stop and consider the Fracture for what it is: her husband destructively confronting her, putting her on the defensive in her most emotionally vulnerable state of mind. Tearing up her art, flinging it aside and attempting to strong arm her out of her cloister. All the while, Aline is fighting back, outright telling us during our battle with her that "she's not crazy," that (to paraphrase) "Renoir can grieve in his way, she grieves in [hers]." She's a grown woman, someone with agency, who understands the risks and was pushing her time in there yes, but-! Crucially, we have been shown that she locks herself within the Canvas because Renoir isn't respecting her ability to handle these risks. She painted a portrait of him that used those qualities to support her and understand her pain without being lost to his own fear. Painter Renoir gets locked under the Monolith to prevent him from destroying the Canvas any further. At this point, he could have relented and returned to his own world. He instead stays, willing to destroy more of his wife's, his deceased son's, and his eldest daughter's various works (which, for her part Clea goes on to reject due to her parent's tampering).
People seem to take Painter Renoir as an entirely reliable narrator. Which is striking, given the lack of Objective Perspective any of the characters possess. As though his anxieties and grief aren't themselves colouring his perspective into that of an over-extended control issue.
areudirty
origamiaround
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
discoholicmusic
turnnoffyourmind
