This young monster / Charlie Fox.

By:

Fox, Charlie (Journalist) [author.]

Material type: Text

TextPublisher: London : Fitzcarraldo Editions, 2017Copyright date: 2017Description: 253 pages : illustrations ; 20 cmContent type:

text

Media type:

unmediated

Carrier type:

volume

ISBN:

9781910695357
1910695351

Subject(s):

DDC classification:

709.051 FOX 23

Summary: This Young Monster is a hallucinatory celebration of artists who raise hell, transform their bodies, anger their elders and show their audience dark, disturbing things. What does it mean to be a freak? Why might we be wise to think of the present as a time of monstrosity? And how does the concept of the monster irradiate our thinking about queerness, disability, children and adolescents? From Twin Peaks to Leigh Bowery, Harmony Korine to Alice in Wonderland, This Young Monster gets high on a whole range of riotous art as its voice and form shape-shift, all in the name of dealing with the strange wonders of what Nabokov once called 'monsterhood'. Ready or not, here they come...

Holdings
Item type	Current library	Call number	Status	Date due	Barcode
Standard Loan	LSAD Library Main Collection	709.051 FOX (Browse shelf(Opens below))	Available		39002100638205

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

This Young Monster is a hallucinatory celebration ofartists who raise hell, transform their bodies, angertheir elders and show their audience dark, disturbingthings.

Includes bibliographical references.

This Young Monster is a hallucinatory celebration of artists who raise hell, transform their bodies, anger their elders and show their audience dark, disturbing things. What does it mean to be a freak? Why might we be wise to think of the present as a time of monstrosity? And how does the concept of the monster irradiate our thinking about queerness, disability, children and adolescents? From Twin Peaks to Leigh Bowery, Harmony Korine to Alice in Wonderland, This Young Monster gets high on a whole range of riotous art as its voice and form shape-shift, all in the name of dealing with the strange wonders of what Nabokov once called 'monsterhood'. Ready or not, here they come...

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

Hey Beast, There's a scary picture I want to show you: three kids outside their house, all wearing masks and grinning like devils. One has a crocodile head, another is a cartoon dog covered with funky spots and the last wears a deranged face drawn on a paper bag, eyes bugged, mouth crammed with jackal teeth. They're dead now. They appear in this book called Haunted Air (2010) collecting old American pictures by anonymous photographers of folk in costume on Halloween. I'm guessing from the fuzziness of the picture that it must have been taken in the 1930s, roughly aligning with the time that Judy Garland crash-landed in Oz. There are tons of other pictures I could have fetched for you - David Bowie on the cover of Diamond Dogs (1974), half-alien, half-hound - or the Count's shadow climbing the stairs from Nosferatu (1922), but beginning on Halloween seemed like the most potent clue to the festivities up ahead. Ghosts run amok, identities melt, everybody's in costume, and reality is nowhere to be found. Think of it as an invitation asking you, as Captain Beefheart once howled, 'to come out and meet the monster tonight!' You're one of the first monsters I remember meeting, both as a cartoon in Disney's Beauty and the Beast (1991) and in huge illustrated books where you were usually depicted with a touch of the owl or hog. Almost everybody, if they're lucky, sees monsters for the first time in fairy tales where the traditional response to their appearance is astonishment. When the Evil Queen in Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs (1937) changes into a witch thanks to her psychotropic potion, even her beloved raven leaps back in fright and hides inside a skull by her cauldron until he's just an eyeball, panicky, staring out of somebody else's head. Scary pictures were one of my earliest obsessions and I'll try to explain why later on in this dumb fan letter to you, dear Beast. I don't have a picture of myself to hand: not the snapshot in which I appear wearing a werewolf mask as a small boy on my birthday, or the other where I'm a vampire stalking through wet grass, sun low and red, squinting like a drunk through slender trees. I was a woozy child, the world was slow, it was fun to watch myself disappear in the mirror, face turning full moon white with make-up, fake blood drooling sweetly from my mouth, a little black crayon around the eyes for that buried alive stare: that was my face and yet it was not. When I discovered a new monster lurking in the forest of a film history book - David Naughton in An American Werewolf in London (1981), gazing at the hand that's no longer quite his own, or Lon Chaney as The Phantom of the Opera(1925), gaunt and scalded by acid - I felt the same shiver: fear speedballing with wonder. I was electrified inside. That was the monster feeling. Excerpted from This Young Monster by Charlie Fox All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

Author notes provided by Syndetics

Charlie Fox is a writer who lives in London. He was born in 1991. His work has appeared in many publications including frieze, Cabinet, Sight & Sound, ArtReview, The Wire and The White Review