I've been through several drafts of this image, but one part has always stayed: reflections of Mirror/Painted Alicia and Maelle. It was adding Reacher that brought it all together, although I could tweak the larger composition forever.
Of all of the Dessendres, I think Alicia has the most complex interaction with the 'mirror' that is the Canvas. It gives her three versions of herself during a crisis of identity brought on by her disastrous attempt to make peace with the Writers. There’s Painted Alicia, a mostly passive and listless woman who is drifting through a dying world, whose last flicker of hope comes to naught; Maelle, anxious and bold and surrounded by family, teetering between hope for and despair of her future; and little Reacher, the baby of the family, still full of unspoiled promise.
(more under the cut, whoo boy this one got lengthy)
Painted Alicia's interactions with Maellicia are very interesting. In the first act, she is curious, seemingly resentful at times, but also gentle. Maelle seems almost hypnotized by her, clearly sensing that something is Off and that a Connection is There, while Painted Alicia seems to glow with something -- dark satisfaction? wisdom? tenderness? -- in their scenes together. Painted Alicia's life has been a century-long slog of misery and suffering that was started, in part, by decisions made by the girl slumbering under Maelle’s protective shell, but she doesn't appear to take it out on her. She gives her memories of the fire, but it isn’t an act of random cruelty – she seems to be trying to awaken Alicia, which is odd that Alicia should be allied with Real Renoir and thus her enemy. But she seems to trust that she will seek a third path, if only she knows that one is available. She tries to seek it out herself through her letter, but – like Real Alicia? – her efforts come to naught. In their final scene together, she takes Maellicia's hand and leads her into Reacher's hut, and together they set Reacher free.
Maelle is bold and brash at times, but mainly only around family, like Gustave, Lune, and Sciel. We see her caught in the grip of panic more than once. She doesn't feel like she belongs in Lumiere and its slow, grinding demise, and strikes out to seek a better fate for herself. After Gustave is killed, she retreats into herself, clutching his remains and growing more distressed and overwhelmed until she lashes out. She is motivated by revenge. She comforts the dying Paintress. Her moment of greatest victory -- the end of the Gommage and a triumphant return to Lumiere, something she barely even let herself dream of -- dissolves into petals around her as she cries out in horror and confusion. She is the last Lumierean to die.
And then there's Reacher. Although she's still large, she is much smaller than the other Axons we see. She sits passively in a chair and seems to be stuck, an obedient child, a helpless doll. She wears the rough garb of the Orphelin's and a mask with only one eye. This is not Alicia as a child, but Alicia as she is now. She witnesses the fight between Painted Alicia and Maellicia, and then at their command, she ventures out on her grand journey. As Reacher fades into the distance, Maellicia erases Painted Alicia. Are the Three Sisters united as one scrap of soul and flesh at last, or are they doomed to never meet again?
It seems significant that there are three versions of Alicia in the Canvas, and that Alicia is the youngest of three siblings. Eldest sister Painted Alicia is gentle but also challenges Maellicia to a duel for the sheer delight of a good scrap. Middle sister Maelle is caught up in a conflict she doesn't understand, and resents Lumiere even as she fights and dies to save it. And baby sister Reacher is doomed to carry on alone, the protective Titans of her siblings left dead in her wake.
They’re all such interesting reflections of Alicia, whose first act of adulthood was reaching out to the Writers and making some overture of peace. And then she failed! Many people have written about Alicia’s disability and disfigurement and how they affect her will to live and engage with the world, but no one has written about her humiliation. Not only was her overture rejected, but it blew up in her face. Literally! And of course, she was protected from the worst of it by her indulgent, self-sacrificial big brother. Now everyone who looks at her will see the marks of her naivete and the depth of her shame. She will never, ever be free of it.
In light of this, Renoir’s portrait of Alicia as Reacher seems almost cruel. She did what he wanted her to do! She embarked on her journey to the sky! She went off in pursuit of some grand vision that no one else could see! And then she failed. Why can’t he leave her alone? On the other hand, the portrait is now truer than ever. In the face of her setback, she must either retreat in disgrace and wither away in her hut, or she must buckle down and succeed in defiance of all odds. Does she want to coexist with the faction that killed Verso? She knows, now, why peace is hard.
Retreat into the Canvas and a slow, numbing death must seem merciful compared to all the choices that lay ahead of her. Although she wants to be Maelle, Maelle is as dead as Verso; she can never be Maelle again. But in the end, Painted Alicia still sent her letter, though she must have known how it would end. In the end, Maelle forgave the Paintress and embraced the thought of building a future in damaged, post-apocalyptic Lumiere. In the end, Reacher did break free of the Canvas, venturing out into some bright future that only she could see.