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Quote by Jean Baudrillard

Work

Cool Memories IV, 1995-2000

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Author

Jean Baudrillard
Jean Baudrillard

Jean Baudrillard was a French philosopher known for his critical studies on consumerism, media, and semiotics. His theories have had a profound impact on postmodernism and cultural studies. more

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“My friend asked me if it had been cathartic, to write my memoir. I looked down at the sculptures—it was cathartic for me to look at them, but I could imagine it might have been hell to make them (I was cheered / when I came first to know / that there were flowers also / in hell). No, I answered—how was it for you to read it? Aristotle, in his Poetics, never promised catharsis for the makers of art, only for the audience.”

“First of all, Mr. Cheating Bastard, this is no time to be insulting my car-care abilities, and secondly, she doesn't want to talk to you." He hung his head. "It is true, I have been a bad husband, a stupid man, and a careless friend, but I love my wife and I must talk to her." He really looked dreadful, which was satisfying. I shook my head. "Did you just arrive?" He nodded. "Then you haven't unpacked yet, which will save you some time. Go back to Italy, Berto, back to your little girlfriend." "She is gone. It is over." I switched over to disgusted frown. "Well. Maggie is not a consolation prize, shithead. She's the trophy, the Pulitzer, the Nobel. The fact that your girlfriend dumped you means nothing. Go home.”

“Berto." Voice like ice. "Maggie, cara mia!" Voice like fire. He leapt forward to embrace her, but she held up her hand, her face grave. I noticed she'd freshened her lipstick, though. No dummy, that one. "Back off! I am not going to forgive you, so don't fritter your charm. You broke my heart and sent me flying home like a kicked dog." Maggie was just warming up. "I fled my home, my work, my friends. Every single person we know, our colleagues, our neighbors, knew I had been thrown over for a younger woman and pitied me. I am not to be pitied, Berto. I am a proud and beautiful woman, and I am the one who should be pitying you. But I don't pity you, because you made your own bed. Now go back to Italy and lie in it. Alone.”