Monsters: A Fan's Dilemma

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Slyly funny, emotionally honest, and full of raw passion, Claire Dederer’s important book about what to do when artists you love do things you hate breaks new ground, making a complex cultural conversation feel brand new. Monsters elegantly takes on far more than ‘cancel culture’—it offers new insights into love, ambition, and what it means to be an artist, a citizen, and a human being.” I read Monsters as part of an ill-fated attempt to replace the unsatisfying internet culture writing that I sometimes let clog my mornings with book-length works of criticism. This book in particular because I was worried my own perspective on the question—what to do with great art by horrible men, basically—was in danger of ossifying. I wanted to challenge myself. Alas, Dederer and I basically agree: Ooof I think Claire Dederer mentions praxis only once in this book and it shows. Maybe some people find this book helpful and I don't want to poo-poo them. I don't think this book is entirely without merit, but I also don't think that this book is the "ambitious" book that the author says is her goal nor is it a deep dive into the question of meaningful art created by monstrous people that the book advertises itself as. I will separate this review into the reasons I did not like this book:

Knyga ne tiems, kuriems nerūpi. Knyga tiems, kuriems skauda ir kurie klausia – o ką dabar su ta meile daryti? Ką daryti su meile kūriniui, jei kūrėjas – monstras? Autorė ramiai, empatiškai, išmintingai ir su humoru kalba apie genijus ir menininkus, labai žinomus ir menkiau aptartus, aptardama jų nuodėmes – nuo baisiausių iki tokių, kurias beveik galėtume pražiūrėti ir atleisti. Beveik. Kalba apie pateisinimus, kuriuos tokiems kūrėjams kuriame – ne dėl to, kad patys būtume prievartautojai, antisemitai, moteris mušantys alkoholikai, pedofilai ar žudikai, o todėl, kad menas – ne prekė, kuria vis dar prekiaujama rusijoje. Visokiems saldainiams ir tepamiems sūreliams pakaitalą rasti lengva. O vat kai kalba pasisuka apie kūrinius, kurie pakeitė gyvenimus, kito brand‘o jau nebepasirinksi. Galbūt noras mylėti, net kai problematiška, yra egoistiškas prieš aukas, tačiau labai žmogiškas. Ir man reikėjo šios knygos. Nes nepraeina diena, kai nepagalvoju – o ką man daryt su Rammsteinais? Jie gi šeši. Bet gi visi žinojo, jei vyko prievarta. Užsimerkė. Negirdėjo. Nusisuko. O ką daryti su kūryba, kuri ėjo mano gyvenime koja kojon pastaruosius 15 metų? Claire Dederer is a memoir and essay writer who I had never heard of but she decided to look into this topic once she hit a weird personal wall when struggling to come to terms with the fact that she still is able to absolutely adore Polanski's movies while knowing of and being repulsed by the atrocity he committed. Why? How? Why? So she started thinking and exploring art by what we now like to call "problematic" people and our relationship with that, and then #Metoo happened and suddenly cancel culture for all kind of things was en vogue and she realized her subject of interest had gone viral. So she expanded and wrote this book (and I believe a viral article in between). So, Monsters doesn't take for granted; it centers the contingent nature of these questions, not questioning for the sake of questioning (everything is relative! case closed!), but instead making room for that contingency of all contingencies, that always various thing: subjectivity. Anything can happen in that meeting place of the biography of the artist and the biography of the audience, and Dederer not only recognizes this, but makes it the foundation of her book. Her writing has an elasticity that is precisely suited to the topic at hand; it is what allows her to accommodate different contexts, viewpoints, ideas. Put another way, she approaches her topic with nuance and sensitivity. Monstrousness is not a monolith, and Dederer's book shows us how: there are different kinds of monsters, different kinds of responses to monstrousness, different standards for monstrousness. Personally, my favourite chapters were "The Genius," about how the genius of the male artist exerts a kind of force that excuses and countenances all kinds of monstrousness; "The Critic," about who responds to, and in what way, to art and to monsters; and "The Beloveds," which is the final chapter and which I won't say anything about because I don't want to spoil it (I've never thought of non-fiction as "spoilable," but Monsters is just that good). I was thirteen. I knew Lolita was officially an important book, but it was about a girl my age… I thought I might give Lolita a whirl…

I have absolutely no idea if any of that’s what the book remotely meant to convey at all; it’s sort of just where I landed. Anyway, I enjoyed the ride. And, I actually appreciate that the author considered the matter for herself and also nudged the reader’s thinking, but didn’t try to answer this question authoritatively for the ages. That could have been - well, monstrous!

I have no greater clarity on whether I think works of art should be cancelled or not if their creators are problematic, but my takeaway is … the uncertainty is kind of the point? It’s all about the journey? This is a most interesting chapter, a nice addition to lolitological Studies, but every time you are thinking this book has now found its groove CD comes out with some highly dubious apercu that calls forth a groan or a puzzled frown : Dederer provides a fascinating new way of looking at how the work and lives of problematic artists are bound together. She poses so many topical questions, plays with so many pertinent ideas, that I'm still thinking about this book long after I finished.”Face it. The heart wants what it wants. So, when Dederer includes personal history in the text, I realize why. Because it's personal. The people we love, the artists who speak to us from some higher point beyond moral authority and knowledge, move us, whether or not we can explain it, all out of love. The book explores the suggestion that being a monster is part of being a creative genius. In other words, if they were forced to behave properly they would no longer be creative. Pablo Picasso is discussed as a supposed example of such an artist. The author sarcastically notes (spoiler alert) this type of genius does not include women per prevailing social standards. There was also maybe a little bit of “the artwork has/is a life of its own” thing, with a touch of the “it belongs to us/the world now” angle, as well as some of the whole “all artists are kinda monsters” bit, which I’m not certain I agree with, but being neither artist nor hopefully monster, I don’t have a horse in that race. Monsters is an incredible book, the best work of criticism I have read in a very long time. It’s thrillingly sharp, appropriately doubtful, and more fun than you would believe, given the pressing seriousness of the subject matter. Claire Dederer’s mind is a wonder, her erudition too; I now want her to apply them to everything I’m interested in.” Monsters is a lot of things--smart, incisive, insightful, absorbing--but more than anything, it is such an impressively thoughtful book in so many ways.