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16 of 17 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Andy Warhol: in his own words, January 26, 2002
By A Customer
I read this book knowing next to nothing about Andy Warhol. After reading it, I feel more or less the same way. Although it is entertaining and a sure quick read! This book is a collection of paragraphs by the late 60's pop artist. It is divided into 15 chapters: Love (puberty) Love (prime) Love (senility) Beauty, Fame, Work, Time, Death, Economics, Atmosphere, Success, Art, Titles, The Tingle, and Underwear. Don't be fooled by the numerous chapters though; this is a very thin book. Each chapter has a topic, some as short as one paragraph long. There's a lot of division but not a lot of content. Most of Warhol's observations on life, some general, some personal, range from interesting and unique decadent philosophies to brief, meaningless nuggets as unnecessary as anything you'll find in a Larry King column. I enjoyed many parts of this book such as Warhol's unapologetic feelings towards spending money (Economics) since such unbridled greed is not something that most rich people are honest enough to admit (and is also specific to the 1970's and 1980's greed and decadence of New York). I also enjoyed but was somewhat mystified by Warhol's thoughts about sexuality and beauty. He seems detached and objective about his feelings about those subjects. Warhol never gives any clues too broad about his preferences- which I find appealing, seeing that it's very unique for a man, even if he's bisexual or homosexual, to not be like "Sex! Sex! Sex!" Unfortunately, the book is written with competence but not great articulateness. The opposite of wordy, it's not quite a quote book, but I'd definitely downgrade the title from "philosophies" to "monologues."
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11 of 12 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Of course it's brilliant, and it's b.s., which is why it's brilliant..., September 18, 2006
Seriously, at a certain point when I was around 18 or 19, this was my Bible, or my Little Red Book - I and a handful of friends (Warhol died at about the same time) took every syllable here very, very seriously.
This is kinda funny to me now, but it's a great book still, a truly unique cultural artifact. Warhol - as always maintains the trademark deadpan aloofness here, which had a few odd purposes beyond simply looking cool: there were rare instances when he'd drop his guard and a hint of social relevance would enter the frame, which did run contrary to most of what Warhol did, here especially. Doing so would turn art into something didactic, and - as a joke doesn't work if you have to explain the punch line, art flops if you have to lead your viewers, or readers, by the hand into your meaning. Thus Warhol's stylish glibness and affected cool served a brilliant purpose - it made demands of everyone who came into contact with it.
Here we have Warhol's epigrams - spread out like some artboy approximation of 'Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung,' all about equally quotable, useless, devoid of literary merit, yet (unlike the leaden and ideologically bankrupt Chairman) also stylish and memorable, even at their most zoned out.
The other great method behind Warhol's facades is here as well - the same impulse that turned canned soup into the artworks of a once very, very poor 2nd-generation immigrant's child (if you were going hungry, Campell's soup would in fact become, and possibly remain, a beautiful thing, and we all know that beautiful things are and always will be one of the most fitting of subjects for art). These cryptic sayings and jottings all seem constructed to get us all to see the small stuff for what it is, and learn to appreciate it for that.
Warhol was like Elvis - all things to all people. And about as maddening, contradictory and semiotically intriguing as Elvis. This slim little book is one of his strangest and most magnificent achievements.
-David Alston
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20 of 24 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Pop Philosophy, December 6, 2004
Andy's response to an excess of abstract art was Pop Art.
Andy's response to an excess of abstract philosophy was Pop Philosophy.
This book is not so much about Andy Warhol as it is about Warhol making philosophy pop. To make philosophy pop, Andy shared his observations and values, just as to make art pop, Andy shared the Campbell soup he enjoyed so often.
Philosophy has been abstract for so long, we had forgotten it could be anything else. It had belonged to academicians for so long, we had forgotten it could belong to anyone else.
Andy worked with the topics of abstract philosophy, such as love, beauty, time, death, economics and art ... but he rendered them pop by talking about them the way ordinary people talk about them. Not that Andy seemed ordinary but what do you call concerns of pimples (in "Beauty"), not being able to shop on Sunday (in "Economics"), or waiting in line for movies (in "Time"). Views of Andy's but also acts of making topics previously owned by abstract philosophy into instances of pop philosophy.
Pop philosophy can also move beyond the limitations of stuffy abstract philosophy. Andy offers a chapter on something not to be found in academic philosophy: not "Power" but "Underwear Power". The same commercialism found in pop art can be found here in pop philosophy: "Buying is much more American than thinking..."
So philosophy needn't be just about thinking, it can be about our everyday lives: loving, working and buying underwear. Andy liked having loud music on when doing art so he wouldn't think too much. Perhaps thinking too much gets in the way of good philosophy. If your underwear fits well, there may be no need to work out a lengthy critique of dialectical reasoning. But can you accuse Andy of living an unexamined life?
Warhol should not be underestimated. His contributions and challenges to society are not limited to areas he is well known for such as painting, movies, interviewing but extend even to philosophy and the spirit in which we live each day. Warhol lives. If we practice pop philosophy in the manner he suggests in this book, we may find our lives worth living a good deal more than academic philosophers have shown. Forget the doctorate, go to your own school of Warhol.
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