Huysmans Re: crappy American meat

Yoshie Furuhashi furuhashi.1 at osu.edu
Wed Aug 7 19:24:49 PDT 2002



>Chuck Grimes wrote:
>
>>Well, hell, try crappy American culture, period. Food and food
>>preparation just reflects some other totality. Pick one, say politics,
>>same blah, meally mouthed crap that says nothing and does nothing. Or
>>pick music, same shit, lots of noise, melodic and harmonic dimenision
>>zero. Remember the guitar thread? Hendrix? Get real. Try Joe Pass. Or
>>writing, lots of words and nothing to say. Or take on the big one, an
>>economy that produces little worth building or buying. Architecture by
>>puke.
>>
>>But then I'll hear a bunch of shit about elitism, dissing pop-culture,
>>etc. Diseased chicken is just the tip of the shit heap. Budweiser.
>
>Everything sucks and is getting worse. QED. Should we kill ourselves
>now, or wait until further deterioration sets in?
>
>Doug

Neither. Read J.K. Huysmans, for instance, and enjoy fin-de-siecle thoughts on art, decadence, and revolution. From _Against the Grain [A Rebours]_ (1884), Chapter 16:

***** After the aristocracy of birth, it was now the turn of the aristocracy of money; it was the Caliphate of the counting-house, the despotism of the Rue du Sentier, the tyranny of commerce with its narrow-minded, venal ideas, its ostentatious and rascally instincts.

More nefarious, more vile than the nobility it had plundered and the clergy it had overthrown, the bourgeoisie borrowed their frivolous love of show, their decrepit boastfulness, which it vulgarized by its lack of good manners, stole their defects which it aggravated into hypocritical vices. Obstinate and sly, base and cowardly, it shot down ruthlessly its eternal and inevitable dupe, the populace, which it had itself unmuzzled and set on to spring at the throat of the old castes!

Now the victory was won. Its task once completed, the plebs had been for its health's sake bled to the last drop, while the bourgeois, secure in his triumph, throned it jovially by dint of his money and the contagion of his folly. The result of his rise to power had been the destruction of all intelligence, the negation of all honesty, the death of all art; in fact, the artists and men of letters, in their degradation, had fallen to their knees and were devouring with ardent kisses the unwashed feet of the high-placed horse-jockeys and low-bred satraps on whose alms they lived!

...It was the vast, foul bagnio of America transported to our Continent; it was, in a word, the limitless, unfathomable, incommensurable firmament of blackguardism of the financier and the self-made man, beaming down, like a despicable sun, on the idolatrous city that grovelled on its belly, hymning vile songs of praise before the impious tabernacle of Commerce.

"Well, crumble then, society! perish, old world!" cried Des Esseintes, indignant at the ignominy of the spectacle he had conjured up,--and the exclamation broke the nightmare that oppressed him. ***** -- Yoshie

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