The Philosophy Of Andy Warhol At 35+

When most people describe The Philosophy Of Andy Warhol (From A To B and Back Again), they call it a loosely formed autobiography/biography of sorts filled with quips, bits, and reflections. Others consider it a work of superficial pop philosophy, in keeping with Warhol's work. A few think it's all junk.

Whatever. It's an addictive piece of prose, even if he had help writing it (addressed later), maybe more brilliant than some people prop it up to be. It's been called all sorts of things, ranging from jarring to creepy and even a handbook to help you survive the American dream/nightmare. I don't think so.

The Philosophy Of Andy Warhol can be defined in one sentence. 

It's a book about thinking differently about everything. It's that simple, with Warhol using recollection and reflection to apply the idea across any number of subjects — love, fame, work, time, beauty, etc.

He applies the same to big things as much as he applies it to small things. Just before listing out a string of personal tragedies people experience in their lives, he puts it into perspective.

"Sometimes people let the same problem make them miserable for years when they could just say, So what. That's one of my favorite things to say. So what."

Those three sentences are among the most clipped and taken out of context. They have much more weight in the book because he follows up with the problems. My mother didn't love me. My husband won't ball me. I'm a success but I'm still alone. So what.

The point is pretty much made. It's not about being superficial or dismissive, but the realization you can focus your mind with just about anything. Given the human experience is relatively short, there isn't much point in focusing in on the miserable. There is a choice to be made, assuming you realize you can make it. It's one of the reasons Warhol gave up an entire chapter to buying underwear. It's important.

The art of making big things small, and small things big. 

That is not say Warhol was always a master of his own philosophy. Two days before the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, Warhol was shot by Valerie Solanas and barely survived. It had a profound affect on his health, life, and art. It may have even shaped the book, but not his outlook entirely.

When some people look up this now 35-plus-year-old book, they come to the conclusion that it is about nothing. That could be true if you choose to look at it that way. But some of it is the allure of Warhol. While other artists were looking for something important to paint, he painted soup cans and Coke bottles and made them important. In film, he did it for a hamburger.



He applied the same thinking to art and beauty. He didn't think art could be defined as better or worse, just different. And he felt the same way about people, leaning on the idea that everyone was beautiful. And even if they aren't beautiful, they were at one time or another. Beauty is temporal.

"I usually accept people on the basis of their self-images, because their self-images have more to do with the way they think than their objective-images do," he said. "Maybe she's six hundred pounds, who knows. If she doesn't care, I don't."

How the book came together. 

There are some people who aren't very fond of Warhol, especially because he was fascinated with mass producing art. He even considered art a business and being a businessman art. Eventually, he came to realize he could make money the hard way or the easy way. And he choose the latter.

Some people are surprised to learn that Warhol didn't necessarily sit down and plunk away at the keys despite the New York magazine cover that said he did. It was a collaborative work, beginning with Bob Colacello, Pat Hackett, and including Brigid Berlin.

Colacello was the first person Warhol had hired on as a ghost writer, but Colacello needed Hackett's help after realizing he had bitten off more than he could chew. Neither Colacello, Hackett, nor Berlin got credit at the time, but Hackett did co-write Popism with Warhol later. Colacello was especially bitter about it, even though Hackett wrote nine chapters to his four (and Berlin wrote one).

But that is not to say that Warhol didn't "think" the book. Much of it was cobbled together from taped conversations between Warhol, Colacello, and Berlin. It also wasn't Warhol's intent to make a charade. Warhol frequently had people work with him on art. Creation and execution were two different things.

The Philosophy Of Andy Warhol Paints 9.1 On The Liquid Hip Richter Scale. 

The reason the book is sometimes called inspired or even dangerous is because if you apply the same reasoning, it can free your head up a bit. It was true in 1975 when the first run was published (the iconic trade paperback edition appeared in 1977). It's true now too.

It might even be more true because we are reliving part of the 1960s that fit so well in the Warhol world. He once described the 1960s as a decade when everybody became interested in everybody. In the 1970s, nobody was interested in anybody. The 1960s were cluttered. The 1970s were empty.

The Philosophy of Andy Warhol : (From A to B and Back Again) is still in print and can be found on Amazon. The book can be ordered from Barnes & Noble, but hasn't been released as an e-book. We have previously covered some of his art, focusing in on the abundance of prints available.

The Club Dumas Hits A Milestone

Fifteen years ago, one of Arthuro Perez-Reverte's most revered works was translated into English for the first time. While it wasn't his first book, it was one of his most original and one of the few set in a contemporary time, with only a hint at his passion for the romantic 17th century.

This, of course, comes from the book's namesake, Alexandre Dumas, author of The Three Musketeers. And anyone who has enjoyed the serial work of Dumas was drawn in when the novel was first published.

Someone has been killed, a wealthy and well-known publisher and bibliophile is found hanged in his pajamas, hands bound in front of him. While suicide cannot be ruled out, there is the question in an old cheap copy of The Vicomte de Bragelonne, with two underlined sentences:

"They have betrayed me, he murmured. "All is known."

"All is known at last," answered Parthos, who knew nothing. 

The Club Dumas is an inventive suspense thriller.

The Club Dumas is an ambitious novel despite its straightforward opening. It is the story of an antiquarian book hunter called in to authenticate a manuscript, the original chapter forty-two of The Three Musketeers, handwritten by Alexandre Dumas.

The manuscript itself, in fact, had supposedly been purchased from the very man who now graced the front pages of every newspaper. But appraising this impossible find is not the only task Lucas Corso has undertaken for an employer.

He is also searching for an equally improbable find: The Book of the Nine Doors to the Kingdom of Darkness. The book itself is made up for the story, and published by a character named Aristide Torchia, who was burned at the stake in 1667. But some say Torchia is based loosely on the famed Giordano Bruno, who published several controversial books and was burned at the stake in 1600.

It is such loose ties to historical fact that makes The Club Dumas all the more intriguing, assuming someone wants to look beyond the book. And some people do, because Perez-Reverte does't tie up every loose end nicely. He leaves them dangling.

Some of what he does include, however, might be enough to convince anyone that there may very well be links between a secret society of antiquarians, the occult, and ninetieth-centurary pop fiction. You may even feel like there may be men who are pursuing an ancient tomb said to be able to summon the devil, today. Or maybe not.

The magic of discovering it is mostly made worthwhile through the eyes of a well-developed and likable skeptic. Corso doesn't believe in the connections he stumbles across until he feels that he has no choice but to accept them.

All the while, as he races to uncover the mysteries that link Dumas and Torchia together, other book collectors are being murdered too. And, at times, it is difficult to discern which plot thread causes their murders.

The Club Dumas as an early entrant to intellectual mystery genre.

It is an interesting side note to mention that The Club Dumas predates The Da Vinci Code, which has now become the bar for the modern intellectual mystery genre. Keep that in mind while reading this book because while many people try to compare them, they are not comparable.

The Club Dumas is filled with many more red herrings, dead ends, and a propensity to sweep dirt toward literary purists, even if Perez-Reverte's writing is inconsistent in the telling. He tends to shift back and forth between a literary work and a detective novel, which is due in part to the translation.

More importantly, this novel was an early entrant into the category, even if that term is probably not the best descriptor for it. It doesn't have the same detailed historical depth as those that fill the category today. However, it is still entertaining and there are researchable tidbit scattered throughout.

There is something else too. The Club Dumas will be enjoyable to some simply because so many underrate it. Those who hate it, for example, point to the anti-climatic end, the lack of historical depth (as mentioned), and the irritating moment they learn the author is a trickster. But those who do appreciate it regardless, recognize that there is some craft in the dupery, enough so that they may laugh at themselves for connecting dots that don't connect. And maybe that is the point.

Like Lucas Corso, Arturo Perez-Reverte was an obsessive investigator.

Few, if any,  have drawn the conclusion that The Club Dumas is as much as about a man who becomes obsessed with the unraveling plot before him as any other definition. And in that regard, protagonist Lucas Corso shares a similarity with Perez-Reverte beside being known for for their abrasive personas.

Perez-Reverte was a war correspondent for more than 20 years, which comes with its own appetite for chasing down leads, uncovering conspiracies, and connecting dots whenever they would appear. But like any veteran investigator eventually learns, not all theories, investigations, and observations lead somewhere. Sometimes they do, but an equal number are illusions that they themselves create.

For a more literal version of the book, there is always the cult film that is very, very loosely based on it. The Ninth Gate, directed by Roman Polanski, takes a much less heady approach to the storyline. He turns it into a menacing, slow-paced mystery thriller with the atmosphere of a horror flick. It's also one of Johnny Deep's most under appreciated roles.

The Club Dumas Summons Up A 6.8 On The Liquid Hip Richter Scale. 

If you want to read the book, don't break ground with the film. Although the film warrants a separate review, people who see it will be even more confused by the novel. The reason is simple. The film creates links that were written in and never intended in the novel, while ignoring others outright.

The Club Dumas by Arturo Perez-Reverte is available at Barnes & Noble. You can also find The Club Dumas on Amazon. It is not available on iBooks, but there is an audio version on iTunes read by David Warner. Warner is good pick for the read, lending to the atmosphere of the story without muddling it up with too much accent. It's a great match in that the reading adds consistency to the story.