CRAIG BROWN: The looky-likey who could liven up the Mona Lisa...

To catch a glimpse of the Mona Lisa, visitors find they have to crane between the arms and heads of other people taking selfies. Small wonder that a recent survey found it ranked 'the world's most disappointing masterpiece'

Small wonder that a recent survey found it ranked 'the world's most disappointing masterpiece'. 

Some visitors said they had 'never been so disappointed'. Others described the whole experience as 'torture'.

Of course, prolonged queueing increases expectations, and the whole purpose of expectations is to be dashed.

Somehow the word 'queueing' itself conveys the hopelessness of the activity. 

U-e-u-e-i: five vowels all crammed together, unable to get out.

To save the bother of all that travel, here's the best way to ­recreate the experience in your own living room.

1) Buy a postcard of the Mona Lisa.

2) Place it on a shelf.

3) Invite a large group of friends to mill around in front of it.

4) From a far corner of the room, turn a pair of binoculars the wrong way round, and look through them at the postcard.

As famous paintings go, the Mona Lisa is among the most humdrum.

When Marie-Antoinette owned it, she considered it 'too small, too dark' and placed it in the obscurity of a poky back room at Versailles. It was only in the second half of the 19th century that it came to be considered his masterpiece.

Leonardo da Vinci's portrait is of a nondescript mother-of-three called Lisa, the wife of a merchant called Francesco del Giocondo. 

Her smile is deemed to be ­enigmatic, but it might just as easily be called smug or even sly.

Why is she smiling? In 1547, the writer and artist Giorgio Vasari suggested she was smiling because da Vinci had hired clowns to entertain her during the long sitting. But Vasari often made things up.

More recently, another artist has suggested, more mischievously, that hers is the smile of someone who has just broken wind, and is waiting for the smell to hit the painter. 

For hundreds of years, it was considered a ­relatively minor example of ­Leonardo's art. 

When Marie-Antoinette owned it, she considered it 'too small, too dark' and placed it in the obscurity of a poky back room at Versailles.

It was only in the second half of the 19th century that it came to be considered his masterpiece. 

The excitable poet Theophile Gaultier spoke of the 'unresolved riddle' of her smile, 'always there smiling with sensuality, mocking her numerous lovers'.

Until then, no one had really noticed either her smile or the ­riddle, and there was no historic evidence that this dumpy wallflower had any lovers. 

But soon other authors followed suit, notably Jules Verne, who made her the subject of a verse play, imagining the Mona Lisa and ­Leonardo in love.

In 1911, the painting was ­stolen from the Louvre. Throughout history, people have been mesmerised by things that have gone missing: the Loch Ness Monster, Lord Lucan, Liz Truss's marbles. The Mona Lisa was no exception: she became the subject of a film, popular songs and countless newspaper articles

With his broadcasting career in the doldrums, Piers Morgan's thin-lipped smile might give him a profitable secondary career as a Mona Lisa looky-likey

Then in 1911, the painting was ­stolen from the Louvre. Throughout history, people have been mesmerised by things that have gone missing: the Loch Ness Monster, Lord Lucan, Liz Truss's marbles. 

The Mona Lisa was no exception: she became the subject of a film, popular songs and countless newspaper articles.

In the Louvre, more people came to view the space where she used to hang than had ever ­visited her when there. 

When she was recovered in Italy two years later, thousands gathered in Paris to welcome her back.

She then faced a backlash from intellectuals. Marcel Duchamp painted a picture of her wearing a moustache. Somerset Maugham poured scorn on 'the insipid smile of that prim and sex-starved young woman'.

But, like it or not, the Mona Lisa's position as the world's most famous painting now seems unassailable. After all the visitor complaints, the director of the Louvre has just announced plans to move the Mona Lisa into a ­bigger room.

It all goes to show that, as Piers Morgan has discovered to his advantage, fame can be fuelled as much by hatred as by love.

In fact, with his broadcasting career in the doldrums, Morgan's thin-lipped smile might give him a profitable secondary career as a Mona Lisa looky-likey. 

The ­Louvre should offer to dress him up in the appropriate garb, ready to greet those visitors unable to squeeze in to the main event.