Preamble
The eye follows
the paths that have
been laid down for it in the work
(Paul Klee, Pädagogisches Skizzenbuch)
been laid down for it in the work
(Paul Klee, Pädagogisches Skizzenbuch)
To begin with,
the art of jigsaw puzzles seems of little substance, easily exhausted, wholly
dealt with by a basic introduction to Gestalt: the perceived object — we may be
dealing with a perceptual act, the acquisition of a skill, a physiological
system, or, as in the present case, a wooden jigsaw puzzle — is not a sum of
elements to be distinguished from each other and analysed discretely, but a
pattern, that is to say a form, a structure: the element’s existence does not
precede the existence of the whole, it comes neither before nor after it, for
the parts do not determine the pattern, but the pattern determines the parts:
knowledge of the pattern and of its laws, of the set and its structure, could
not possibly be derived from discrete knowledge of the elements that compose
it. That means that you can look at a piece of a puzzle for three whole days,
you can believe that you know all there is to know about its colouring and
shape, and be no further on than when you started. The only thing that counts is
the ability to link this piece to other pieces, and in that sense the art of
the jigsaw puzzle has something in common with the art of go. The pieces are
readable, take on a sense, only when assembled; in isolation, a puzzle piece
means nothing — just an impossible question, an opaque challenge. But as soon
as you have succeeded, after minutes of trial and error, or after a prodigious
half-second flash of inspiration, in fitting it into one of its neighbours, the
piece disappears, ceases to exist as a piece. The intense difficulty preceding
this link-up — which the English word puzzle indicates so well — not
only loses its raison d’être, it seems never to have had any reason, so
obvious does the solution appear. The two pieces so miraculously conjoined are
henceforth one, which in its turn will be a source of error, hesitation,
dismay, and expectation [...].
[...] From this, one can make a deduction which is quite certainly the ultimate truth of jigsaw puzzles: despite appearances, puzzling is not a solitary game: every move the puzzler makes, the puzzle-maker has made before; every piece the puzzler picks up, and picks again, and studies and strokes, every combination he tries, and tries a second time, every blunder and every insight, each hope and each discouragement have all been designed, calculated, and decided by the other.
Georges Perec : Life : A User's Manual
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| Balthus, Le passage du commerce Saint-André, 1952-53, Huile sur toile |
