The confrontation of these two schizophrenias appeared tempting to me. The exhibition is disappointing because confrontation did not take place. The psychiatrists express themselves only in the catalogue which is very interesting. The pretext with this meeting, it is this book, where Artaud finds this formula which will remain with the posterity: the suicide man of the society. I thus decided to read it again.
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The confrontation of these two schizophrenias appeared tempting to me. The exhibition is disappointing because confrontation did not take place.
The psychiatrists express themselves only in the catalogue which is very interesting. The pretext with this meeting, it is this book, where Artaud finds this formula which will remain with the posterity: the suicide man of the society. I thus decided to read it again. Artaud is an icon. Initially because he belongs to the history. He was in the surrealist group. He had run his face of bird of prey in all the French expressionist films of the Twenties.
He left to Mexico or he was initiated with the peyolt. He was used by Foucault and the thinkers of the antipsychiatry Cooper and Laing. The truth is more moderate. He was interned at psychiatric hospital, but always under particular conditions. In Ivry, he profited from a total freedom. Remain the short text. The style is rich, There are an opulence of color, adjectives and sonorities. Artaud writes well. There are beautiful lyric descriptions, he sees van Gogh even like a musician.
His thesis is known: van Gogh was not insane. But about which speaks he? Very quickly the impression emerges which he speaks only about him. He found in the painter this double that he annexes like a brother. Thus beautiful text, but not the best to analyze Van Gogh. I have find a short book of Georges Bataille on van Gogh in the museum library. I will rate it after reading.
Van Gogh/Artaud: The Man Suicided by Society
While the rest of us mere mortals toil in our mediocrity, does the visionary merely summon their muse in bursts of creativity that produce great works in days? Does their innate, inborn talent supplant the need for hard graft? Perhaps, in our less charitable moments, we are comforted by the cost that appears to accompany their talent— the seemingly inevitable collapse into depression, substance abuse, and even suicide. His work had an enormous formative impact upon me as a teenager.
Van Gogh: the man suicided by society
This is why a tainted society has invented psychiatry to defend itself against the investigations of certain superior intellects whose faculties of divination would be troublesome. No, van Gogh was not mad, but his paintings were bursts of Greek fire, atomic bombs, whose angle of vision would have been capable of seriously upsetting the spectral conformity of the bourgeoisie. In comparison with the lucidity of van Gogh, psychiatry is no better than a den of apes who are themselves obsessed and persecuted and who possess nothing to mitigate the most appalling states of anguish and human suffocation but a ridiculous terminology. To a man, this whole gang of respected scoundrels and patented quacks are all erotomaniacs. So society has strangled in its asylums all those it wanted to get rid of or protect itself from, because they refused to become its accomplices in certain great nastiness.