i.

rprelolion
in the case of comedy, it is by
rding to the norms of feeling.
extension of the idea of com-
: to terror. It is "comic" rather
in all its examples, which in-
remes of disrelation-which is
, as "relatedness" is the subject
people in the audience, often
hink this is simply because we
i
violent and absurd actions. I
n in the Happenings is, in the
rt make it any less terrifying.
to laughter, if only our social
e of the serious would allow it,
hophes and atrocities. There is
)nce as such, a demonic, not a
ent ihat modern experience is
.nized situations of disrelation.
=use
it is punitive. As in trag-
at, someone who will be pun-
:der represented mimetically in
re Happenings merely follows
which will eliminate the stage,
tors and performers, and "will
In the Happening this scape
Noles on
"Comp"
Maxv things in the wortd
have not been named; and many things, even if they have been
named, have never been described. One of these is the sensibilitv
-unmistakably
modern, a variant of sophistication but hardly
identical with it-that goes by the cult name of "Camp."
A sensibility (as distinct from an idea) is one of the hardest
things to talk about; but there are special reasons why Camp, in
particular, has never been discussed. It is not a natural mode of sen-
sibility, if there be any such. Indeed the essence of Camp is its love
of the unnatural: of artifice and exaggeration. And Camp is
esoteric-something of a private code, a badge of identity even,
among small urban cliques. Apart from a lazy two-page sketch in
Christopher Isherwood's novel The W'orld in the Evening (1954),
it has hardly broken into print. To talk about Camp is therefore to
betray it. If the betrayal can be defended, it will be for the edifica-
276 . Agoinst inrerpretotion
tion it provides, or the dignity of the conflict it resolves. For my-
self,-l plead the goal of self-edification, and the goad of a shaqp
conflict in my own sensibility. I am strongly drawn to Camp, and
almost as strongly offended by it. That is why I want to talk about
it, and why I can. For no one who wholeheartedly shares in a given
sensibility can analyze it; he can only, whatever his intention, ex-
hibit it. To name a sensibility, to draw its contours snd to recount
its history, requires a deep sympathy modified by revulsion.
Though I am speaking about sensibility only-and about a sensi-
bility that, among other things, converts the serious into the
frivolous-ihese are grave matters. Most people think of sensibility
or taste as the realm of purely subiective preferences, those myste-
rious attractions, mainly sensual, that have not been brought under
the sovereignty of reason. They allow that considerations of taste
play a part in their reactions to people and to worls of art. But this
attitude is naive. And even worse. To patronize the faculty of taste
is to patronize oneself. For taste governs every free-as opposed to
rote-human response. Nothing is more decisive. There is taste in
people, visual taste, taste in emotion-and there is taste in acts, taste
in morality. Intelligence, as well, is really a kind of taste: taste in
ideas. (One of the facts to be reckoned with is that taste tends to
develop very unevenly. It's rare that the same person has good
visual taste and good taste in people and taste in ideas.)
Taste has no system and no proofs. But there is something
Iike a logic of taste: the consistent sensibility which underlies and
gives rise to a certain taste. A sensibility is almost, but not quite,
ineffable. Any sensibility which can be crammed into the mold
of a system, or handled with the rough tools of proof, is no longer
a sensibility at all. It has hardened into an idea. . . .
To snare a sensibility in words, especially one that is alive and
powerful,* one must be tentative and nimble. The form of
lot-
tings, rather than an essay (with its claim to a linear, consecutive
argument), seemed more appropriate for getting down something
*
The sensibility of an era is not only its most decisive, but also its most perish-
able, aspect. One may capture the ideas (intellectual history) and the behavior
(social history) of an epoch without ever touching upon the sensibility or taste
which informed those ideas, that behavior. Rare are those historical studies-
lrte Huizinga on the Iate Middle Ages, Febvre on l6th century Franc+-which
do tell us something rbout thc sensibility of the period.
of this particui
and treatise-li}
produced a ver
These notes
"One should e
l. To start
cism. It is one
That way, the
of the degree ,
2. To emph
attitude which
saying that thr
least apolitical.
3. Not only
things. Camp
behavior of pe
popular songs,
important. Tn
rience. But no'
eye of the beh(
4. Random
Camp:
Zu
Tifl
Sco
Thr
Tltt
Aul
Sw;
Bel
Vis
I
ccrl
Sch
.rprelotion
s conflict it resolves. For my-
on, and the goad of a sharp
;trongly drawn to Camp, and
rt is why I want to talk about
roieheartedly shares in a given
1,
whatever his intention, ex-
w its contours and to recount
rodified by revulsion.
>ility only-and about a sensi-
rnverts the serious into the
ost people think of sensibility
rtive preferences, those myste-
have not been brought under
r that considerations of taste
e and to worls of art. But this
r patronize the faculty of taste
rrns every free-as opposed to
rore decisive. There is taste in
-and there is taste in acts, taste
:eally a kind of taste: taste in
red with is that taste tends to
it the same person has good
and taste in ideas.)
rcfs. But there is something
ensibility which underlies and
rility is almost, but not quite,
be crammed into the mold
gh tools of proof, is no longer
:io an idee. . . .
;pecially one that is alive and
nd nimble. The form of
jot-
claim to a linear, consecutive
e for getting down something
xt decisive, but also its most perish-
tellectual history) and the behavior
ruching upon the sensibility or taste
Rare
-are
those historical studies-
vre on 16th century Franco-which
the pcriod.
ZuleikaDobson
Tifiany lamps
Scopitone films
The Brorun l)crbv restauratrt on Srtnsct Boulcvarcl in LA
'Ihc
Errqtrircr, headlines ancl storics
Aubrey Beardsley drawings
Swan Lake
Bellini's operas
Visconti's direction of Salome and 'Tis Pity She's a
Whore
certain tumof-the-century
picture
Postrds
Schoedsack's
King Kong
Nolel on "ComP"
t 277
of this particular fugitive sensibility. It's embarrassing to be solemn
and treatise-like about Camp. Oni runs the risk of having, oneself,
produced a very inferior piece of
-Camp.
These notes are for OscarWilde.
"One should either be a work of art, or wear a work of art'"
-Pfuases
& Philosophies for the Use of the Young
l. To start very generally: Camp is a certain mode of aestheti-
cism. It is one way Jf seeing the world as an aesthetic phenomenon'
That way, the way of Camp, is not in terms of beauty, but in terms
of the degree of artiEce, of stylization.
2. To Imphasize style is t; slight content, or to introduc-e an
attitude whiih is neufra] with respect to content' It goes without
saying that the Camp sensibility iJ disengaged, depoliticized-or
at
least apolitical.
3. Not only is there a Camp vision, a Camp.way of looking.,at
things. Camp is as well a quality discoverable
in obiech- and the
*niiot of
iersons.
There are "iampy" movies, clothes' furniture'
p.frfrito"is,
,,orels, people, buildings'
' ' '
This distinction
is
important. frue, the Cimp eye has the power to transform
expe-
rience. But not everythingLt
b" t".t' as Camp' It's not all in the
eve of the beholder.
-;.
R;;d"*-"*r*pro of items which are part of the canon of
Camp:
278
. Agoinct lnierPrctotion
the Cuban
PoP
singer La LuPe
Lynn Ward's novei in woodcuts, God's Man
the old Flash Gordon comics
women's clothes of the twenties (feather boas, fringed
and beaded dresses, etc.)
the novels of Ronald Firbank and Ivy Compton-Bur'
nett
stag movies seen without lust
5. Camp taste has an affinity for certain arts rather than others.
clothes, fumiture, all the elements of visual d6cor, for instance,
make up a large part of Camp. For Camp art is often decorative
art, emphasizing fexture, sensuous surface, and style at the expense
of conient. Concert music, though, because it is contentless,
is
rarely Camp. It ofiers no opportunitY-, try, for a contrast between
silly tr extravagant content ind rich form. . . . Sometimes whole
art forms become saturated with camp. classical ballet oPera,
movies have seemed so for a long time. In the last two years,
PoPu-
lar music (post rock-'n'-roll, what the French u]L
Ve
y{)
-has
been
annexed. And movie criticism (like lists of "The l0 Best Bad
Movies I Have Seen") is probably the greatest popularizer of Camp
taste today, because mosi people still go to the movies in a high'
spirited and unpretentious waY.
6. There is a sense in which it is correct to say: "It's too good to
be Camp." Or "too important," not marginal enough'
{More
on
this latei.) Thus, the personality and many.of-
!!t
works of
|ean
Cocteau are Camp, but not those of Andr6 Gide; the operas of
Richard Strauss, but not those of Wagner; concoctions of Tin Pan
Alley and Liverpool, but not
iazz.
Many examples-of
layn
are
thinls which, from a "serious" point of view, are either bad art or
kih;. Not all, though. Not only is Camp not necessarily bad a-rt,
but some art which can be approached as Camp (example: the
maior films of Louis Feuillade) merits the most serious admiration
and study.
N
'The more we studY lu
7. All Camp obiect
arti6ce. Nothing in na
rnan-madq and most
haveaserenity-orat
A great deal of CamP t
8. Camp is a vision
lar kind of style. It it
thin gs-being-what-ther
veau, the most tYPica
veau objects, tyPicallv
lighting fixtures in th
which is really a grottr
trances designed bY H
of cast-iron orchid sta
9. As a taste in
P
markedly attenuated I
yne is certainlY one t
amples: the swoonir
painting and
Poetry;
veau prints and
Posl
trays; the haunting an
of Greta Garbo. Herr
edged truth of taste:
(as well as the most
going against the gn
virile men is someth:
inine women is som
taste for the androg
but isn't: a relish for
personality manneris
that can be cited ar,
ness of
|ayne
Mansfi
Mayo; the exaggerat
ture. The great stYlis
crPratotlon
,uPe
rdcuts, God's Man
Lics
venties (feather boas, fringed
)
Sank and Ivy Compton-Bur-
ust
:ertain arts rather than othen.
of visual ddcor, for instance,
Camp art is often decorative
rface, and style at the expense
,
because it is contentless, is
y, say, for a contrast between
form. . . . Sometimes whole
)amp. Classical ballet, opera,
re. In the last two years, popu-
e French cally. yC) has been
: lists of "The l0 Best Bad
: greatest popularizer of Camp
ll go to the movies in a high-
orrect to say: "It's too good to
t marginal enough. (More on
d many of the works of
fean
rf Andr6 Gide; the operas of
agner; concoctions of Tin Pan
lr{any examples of Camp are
: of view, are either bad art or
Camp not necessarily bad art,
:hed as Camp (example: the
ts the most serious admiration
Nota on "CamP"
o 279
'"fhe more we study Art, the less we cre for Nature."
-The
Decay otLying
7. AII Camp obiects, and persons, contain a large element of
artifice. Nothing in nature can be campy. . . . Rural Camp is still
man-madq and most campy obiects are urban. (Yet, they often
have a serenity-or a naivetd-which is the equivaient of pastoral.
A great deal of Camp suggests EmDson's phrase, "urban pastorai.")
8. Camp is a vision of the world in terms of style-but a particu-
Iar kind of style. It is the love of the exaggerated, the "oft," of
things-being-what-they-are-not. The best example is in Art Nou-
veau, the most typicai and fully developed Camp style. Art Nou-
veau obiects, typically, convert one thing into something else: the
Iighting fixtures in the form of flowering plants, the living room
which is really a grotto. A remarkable exampie: the Paris Mdtro en-
trances designed by Hector Guimard in the late 1890s in the shape
of cast-iron orchid stalks.
9. As a taste in persons, Camp responds particularly to the
markedly attenuated and to the strongly exaggerated. The androg-
yne is certainly one of the great images of Camp sensibility. Ex-
amples: the swooning, slim, sinuous figures of pre-Raphaelite
painting and poetry; the thin, flowing, sexless bodies in Art Nou-
veau prints and posters, presented in relief on lamps and ash-
trays; the haunting androgynous vacancy behind the perfect beauty
of Greta Garbo. Here, Camp taste draws cn a mostly unacknowl-
edged truth of taste: the most refined form of sexual attractiveness
(as well as the rnost refined form of sexual pleasure) consists in
going against the grain of one's sex. What is most beautiful in
virile men is something feminine; what is most beautiful in fem-
inine women is something masculine. . Allied to the Camp
taste for the androgynous is something that seems quite different
but isn't: a relish for the exaggeration of sexual characteristics and
personality mannerisms. For obvious reasons, the best examples
that can be cited are movie stars. The corny flamboyant female-
ness of
|ayne
Mansfield, Gina Lollobrigida,
fane
Russell, Virginia
Mayo; the exaggerated he-man-ness of Steve Reeves, Victor Ma'
ture. The great stylists of temperament and mannerism, like Bette
280
. Against interPrelotion
Davis, Barbara Stanwyck, Tallulah Bankhead,
Edwige Feuilli0re'
10. Camp ,".,
"u.rything
in quotation marks' It's not a lamp'
but a "lamp"; not a *o*rnJbut i "woman'" T9 perceive C.am.q i1
,Ul..u
^"i
p"rronu is to understand Being-as-Playing-a-Ro-le'.lt
is
the farthest extension,
in sensibility,
of the metaphor of life as
theater.
-
ii. Cr*p is the triumph of the epicene
:]1."'
(P:t:"Y,t'libl!
itv of "marr" and "woman," "person" and "thing'")
PTt
a-ll-
1t1'le'
iiirilt, ,tiin.", is, ulti*ately, epicene' Life is not stylish' Neither
is nature.
-
ir. Th" question isn't, "'Why travesty, impersonation'
theatri'
cality?" The question is, rather,
"{h-en does travestl'-rfPe1so1a-
tion, theatri""iity
".qrir!
the special flavor of Camp?"-Why
r.s th:
,-t*itff,.t"
of Slakespeare's
comeditt-.(A'-You
Like It' etc') not
epicene, while that of Der Rosenkavalier
is?
-'il.
fn" dividing line seems to fall in the 18th century;-there
the origins of Cam"p taste are to be found (Gothic novels' Chinoi-
t.ti., Jr;..tor.,
"rtifi.id
ruins, and so forth')- But the relation
to nature was quite difierent then' In the 18th century'
Peo-Ple
of taste either patronized nature (Strawberry
-HiJt)
g
attempted
to
remake it into something artificial
(Versailles)'
Tty
also inde-
fatigably patronized the past. Today's
9'Tp
taste eftaces nature' or
else contradicts it outrigirt. And the relation of Camp taste to the
past is extremelY sentimental.
14. A pocke[ history of Camp
Tig]t,
of course, begin farther
back-with the mannerist artisti like Pontormo, Rosso' and Cara-
vaggio, or the extraordinarily
theatrical painting-of
-Georges
de,La
tJ,ir,'o, Euphuism (Lyly, etc.) in literature' Still' the soundest
starting p,.rini seems io-be the late 17th and early 18th century'
t".rur[ of tn.t period's extraordinary
feeling forartifice'.for
su.rface'
for symmetry; iis taste for the picturesque and the thrilling, its ele-
lrni'"o"r."[iont
fot representing
t-"*'"1 feeling and-the total pres'
ence of character-the epigram,-'ld
th" rhymed couplet
(in words)'
the flourish (in gesture r"i i" music)' The late ITth and early l8th
century is the griat period of Camp: Pope, Congreve, Walp-ole' etc''
bri;"i Swift;ies pricieux in France; the rococo churches of Munich;
Pergolesi. Somewhat later: much of Mozart' But in the 19th cen'
Nolc' ol
tury, what had been distribu
becomes a sPecial taste; it
esoteric, the
Pewerse.
Con6r
Camp continuing wanlY thrr
]ones,
Pater, Ruskin, Tennv
Nour."u movement
in the
its conscious ideologists
in s
15. Of course, to saY all
they are simPlY that' A full
would scarcely equate it ut
ignore what in Art Nouvea'
Art Nouveau is full of "cor
was a revolutionary
movem(
vision (somewhere betwet
group) of an organic
Polit
ture of the Art Nouveau
unserious,
"aesthete's" visi
about Art Nouveau-and
blocks out content, is.
tr6. Thus, the CamP ser
sense in which some thir
familiar split-level constru'
hand, and a sYmbolic
mea
rather, between the thing a
thing as pure artifice'
17. This comes out clea
as a verb, "to camP," some:
of seduction-one
which
'
tible of a double interPre
witty meaning for cognosr
outsiders. EquallY and br
noun, when a
Person
or a 1
Behind the "straight"
Pu
taken, one has found a
Prir
rrprelolion
Bankhead, Edwige Feuillidre.
ation marks. It's not a lamp,
ioman." To perceive Camp in
. Being-as-Playing-a-Role. It is
',
of the metaphor of life as
ricene style. (The convertibil-
"
and "thing.") But all style,
re. Life is not stylish. Neither
rvesty, impersonation, theatri'
hen does travesty, impersona-
flavor of Camp?" Why is the
es (As You Like It, etc.) not
'alier
is?
rll in the 18th century; there
bund (Gothic novels, Chinoi-
I so forth.) But the relation
In the lSth century, people
arvberry Hill) or attempted to
(Versailles). They also inde-
s Camp taste effaces nature, or
relation of Camp taste to the
right, of course, begin farther
e Pontormq Rosso, and Cara-
cal painting of Georges de La
literature. Still, the soundest
17th and early l8th century
r feeling for artifice, for surface,
esque and the thrilling, its ele-
;tant feeling and the total pres'
he rhymed couplet (in words),
).
Th" late lTth and early lSth
Pope, Congreve, Walpole, etc.,
the rococo churches of Munich;
:
Mozart. But in the l9th cen'
Nolcc on "ComP"
r 281
tury what had been distributed throughout all of high culture now
becomes a special taste; it takes on overtones of the acute, the
esoteric, the perverse. Confining the story to England alone,.we see
Camp continuing wanly through 19th century aestheticism (Burne'
]onei,
Pater, Ruikin, fennyson), emerging full-blown with the Art
i\our..u movement in the visual and decorative arts, and finding
its conscious ideologists in such "wits" as Wilde and Firbank'
15. Of course, to say all these things are Camp is not to argue
they are simply that. A full analysis of Art Nouveau, for instance,
*ould scrt"ely equate it with Camp. But such an analysis cannot
ignore what in Ait Nouveau allows it to be experienced as Camp.'
irt Nouveau is full of "content," even of a political-moral sort; it
was a revolutionary movement in the arts, spurred on by a uto-pian
vision (somewheie between William Morris and the Bauhaus
group) of an organic politics and taste. Yet there is also a fea-
[,rr"'of the Art Nouviau obiects which suggests a disengaged,
unserious, "aesthete's" vision. This tells us something important
about Art Nouveau-and about what the lens of Camp, which
blocks out content, is.
16. Thus, the Camp sensibility is one that is alive to a double
sense in which to*" thirgt can be taken. But this is not the
familiar split-level construction of a literal meaning, on- the one
hand, and a symbolic meaning, on the other. It is the differencg
rather, between the thing as meaning something, anything, and the
thing as pure artifice'
17. This comes out clearly in the vulgar use of the word Camp
as a verb, "to camp," something that people do' To camp is a mode
of seduction-oni which employs flamboyant mannerisms susceP
tible of a double interpretatiory
gestures full of duplicity, *it\'
witty meaning for cognoscenti and another' more impe-rsonal, for
outsiders. Equally at d by extension, when the word becomes a
noun, when , petto., ot , ihit g is "a camp," a duplicity is involved'
Behind the "straight" public sense in which something can be
taken, one has found a piivate zany experience of the thing'
282 . Agoinrt inlcrPretotlon
"To be natural is such a very difficult pose to keep up."
-/.gr.ldealHusband
18. One must distinguish between naive and deliberate Camp'
Pure Camp is always t aive. Camp which knows itself to be Camp
("camping") is usually less satisfying.
'
19. Th; pure examples of Camp are unintentional; they
1-e
dead serious-. The Art i'[ourt"o crafisman who makes a lamp with
a snake coiled around it is not kidding, nor is he tryinS to be charm-
ing. He is saying, in all earnestness: Voilil the Orient! Genuine
Cim5for insta=nce, the numbers devised for the Warner Brothers
musifals of the early thirties (42nd Street; The Golddiggets- ot
1933; . . . ot 1935;'. . . of 1937; etc.) by Busby Berkeley-does
not mean to be funny. Camping-say, the plays of Noel Coward-
does. It seems unlikely that much of the traditional opera reper'
toire could be such satisfying Camp if the melodramatic absurdities
of most opera plots had not been taken seriously by their comPosers.
One doesn't nied to know the artist's private intentions. The work
tells all. (Compare a typical 19th century opera with Samuel-Bar-
ber's Vanessa, a piece of manufactured, calculated Camp, and the
difference is clear.)
20. Probably, intending to be empy is always harmful' The per-
fection of Trouble in Paridise and The Maltese FaTcon, among the
greatest Camp movies ever made, comes from the effortless smooth
ivay in whictr-tone is maintained. This is not so with such famous
*olld-b" Camp films of the fifties as AII About Eve and Beat the
Devil. These more recent moviqs have their fine moments, but
the first is so slick and the second so hysterical; they want so badly
to be campy that they're continually losing the beat'
' '
Perhaps,
though, it ii not so rru:ch a question of the unintended efiect versus
the c"onscious intention, ,s of th" delicate relation between parody
and self-parody in Camp. The films of Hitchcock are a showcase
for this problem. When self-parody lacks ebullience but instead
reveals (even sporadically) a ctntempt for one's themes and one's
materials-as in To Catch a Thiet, Rear Window, North by
Northwest-the
results are forced and heavy-handed,
rarely Camp'
Successful Cam5a movie like Carn6's Dtdle de Dtame; the film
I
performances
of Mae
of the Goon Show-t
love.
21. So, again, Cam
closes innocence,
but
objects, don't change
sion. Persons,
howevt
"camping":
Mae We
Lifeboat, Bette Davis
duced to camP witho
eot
Anita Ekberg to
P
-
22. Considered
a l
naive or else whollY
An example of the lat
"It's absurd to dividt
charming
or tedious.'
27. ln naive, or
Pu
a seriousness
that fai
be redeemed as Cam
the exaggerated,
the 1
24. When sometl
because it is too m'
tempted
to do anYtl
too fantasticr"
"It's
Camp enthusiasm.)
75. T\ehallmark
a woman walking
ar
Camp is the
Painti
and trompe-l'oeil
ir
outrageous
aesthetic
Dietrich, all six, but
In Camp there is o:
ambition,
not onlY i
beautiful
buildings
i
rprolollon
xe to keep up."
-AnldealHusband
naive and deliberate Camp.
ich knows itself to be Camp
are unintentional; they are
nan who makes a lamp with
nor is he trying to be charm-
Voilit the Orient! Genuine
ised for the Warner Brothers
Street; The Golddiggers of
:.) by Busby Berkeley{oes
the plays of Noel Coward-
the traditional opera reper-
the melodramatic absurdities
L seriously by their composers.
private intentions. The work
tury opera with Samuel Bar-
d, calculated Camp, and the
,v is always harmful. The per-
e Maltese Falcon, among the
ies from the effortless smooth
s is not so with such famous
AII About Eve and Beat the
rve their fine moments, but
rrsterical; they want so badly
osing the beat. . . Perhaps,
I the unintended effect versus
icate relation between parody
of Hitchcock are a showcase
lacks ebullience but instead
:t for one's themes and one's
',
Rear Window, North by
t heavy-handed, rarely Camp.
6's Dr6le de Drame; the film
Nolc. on "CotnP"
t 283
performances of Mae West and Edward Everett Horton; portions
of the Goon Show+ven when it reveals self-parody,
reeks of self-
love.
--
2i. So, again, Camp rests on innocence' That means Camp dis-
closes innoience, but-also, when it can, corrupts
1t'
Obiects' being
objects, don't change when they are-singled out bylhe Camp
y-
sion. Persons, howe-ver, respond to their audiences' Persons begin
'"r*f;.,g",
Mae Wes! Bea LiUie,
E
LuBl Tallulah Bankheail
in
L;rteioxTBette
Davis in AII About Eve'lPetsot's
can even be in'
duced to camp without their knowing it' Consider the way Fellini
pot
Anita Ekbire to
parodv herself in ['a Dolce Vita')
"-ii.
ContiderJd a'little less strictly, Camp is either completely
naive or else wholly conscious
(when one plays at being camPy)'
Ar,
"*r*pt"
of the iatter: Wilde's epigrams themselves'
"It's absurd to divide
PeoPle
into good and bad' People are either
charming or tedious'"
_Lady.windemere,s Fan
23. lnnaive, or pure, Camp, the essential
element is seriousness'
a seriousness
tirat faits.'of cdurse, not all seriousness
that fails can
be redeemed ,, c.*f. Only that which has the
Proper
mixture
of
the exaggerated, the fantastic, the
Passionate,
and the naive'
- -
24. When something
is
iust
bad (rather than Camp)'-it's
often
because it is too *edi"ocre in its ambition'
The artist hasn't at-
;;;r"d i" do anything really outlandish'
("It's too much"'
"It's
ioo iarrtastic,"
"ICs t o? to be believed," are standard
phrases of
Camp enthusiasm.)
-
Z5) TAehallmarl of Camp is the spirit of extravagance'
Camp is
a woman walking around in a dress made of three million feathers'
C"*p ft the paintings of Carlo Crivelli, with their real
iewels
,r,a iro-p"-folit
insEcts and cracks in the masonry'
C'*.P it-:1"
ou*"g.or^t aestheticism
of Sternberg's six.American
movies with
Dietr"ich, all six, but especially
the last, The Devil Is a'W'oman'
' '
i" C;p there is ofte'r, somlthing-
ddmesuri in the quality of the
,*Uitior, not only inlhe style of lhe work itself' Gaudi's lurid and
beautiful buildings in Barcelona are Camp not only because of their
I
281 . Agoi nrt inl6rprelolion
style but because they reveal-most notably in the Cathedral of the
Sagrada Familia-the ambition on the part of one man to do what
it takes a generation, a whole culture to accomplish.
26. Camp is art that proposes itself seriously, but cannot be taken
altogether seriously because it is "too much." Titus Andronicus and
Strange Interlude are almost Camp, or could be played as Camp.
The public manner and rhetoric of de Gaulle, often, are
Pure
Camp.
27. A work can come close to Camp, but not make it, because it
succeeds. Eisenstein's films are seldom Camp because, despite all
exaggeration, they do succeed (dramatically) without surplus. If
they were a little more "off " they could be great Cam5particu'
larly Ivan the Tenible I & II. The same for Blake's drawings and
paintings, weird and mannered as they are. They aren't Camp;
though Art Nouveau, influenced by Blake, is.
What is extravagant in an inconsistent or an unpassionate way
is not Camp. Neither can anything be Camp that does not seem to
spring from an irrepressible, a virtually uncontrolled sensibility.
Without passion, one gets pseudo-Cam5what is merely decora-
tive, safe, in a word, chic. On the barren edge of Camp lie a num-
ber of attractive things: the sleek fantasies of Dali, the haute cou-
ture preciosity of Albicocco's The GirI with the Golden Eyes. But
the two things-Camp and preciosity-must not be confused.
28. Again, Camp is the attempt to do something extraordinary.
But extraordinary in the sense, often, of being special, glamorous.
(The curved line, the extravagant gesture.) Not extraordinary
merely in the sense of effort. Ripley's Believe-It-Or-Not items are
rarely campy. These items, either natural oddities (the two-headed
rooster, the eggplant in the shape of a cross) or else the products
of immense labor (the man who walked from here to China on his
hands, the woman who engraved the New Testament on the head
of a pin), Iack the visual reward-the glamour, the theatricality-
that marks ofi certain extravagances as Camp.
29. The reason a movie like On the Beach, books like lV'ines-
burg, Ohio and For W'hom the Bell Tolls are bad to the point of
being laughable, but not bad to the point of being enioyable, is that
they are too dogged and pretentious. They lack fantasy' There is
Camp in such bai
the series of Itali
ciste, numerous
)
terians, The H-lV
and vulgarity, the
tasy-and therefo
30. Of coursg
deal to do with it
lacking in fantas'
resembles too clc
ture of which w
fantasy as fantasY
31. This is wh
old-fashioned, ot
such. It's simply
vides the necess:
When the them
work of art may
Iiberates the wor
the Camp sens
sphere of banalii
of the contemPr
time, become fat
style of Rudy V
perance Seven, I
in his heyday.
Thus, things
we become less
frustrated b1', tl
unprcdictablc.
)
Warrcn Bcattt )
now--or as sari
end of her care
32. Camp is
no importance'
Gaudi, Cecil B.
What the Cam
Pr.lolion
bly in the Cathedral of the
art of one man to do what
ccomplish.
iously, but cannot be taken
Lch." Titus Andronicus and
could be played as CamP.
ie Gaulle, often, are
Pure
but not make it, because it
Camp because, desPite all
ically) without surPlus. If
d be great Cam5Particu-
Le for Blake's drawings and
ry
arc. They aren't CamP;
re, is.
:nt or an unpassionate waY
)amp that does not seem to
lv uncontrolled sensibilitY.
o5what is merely decora-
n edge of Camp lie a num-
sies of Dali, the haute cou-
with the Golden EYes. But
,must
not be confused'
do something extraordinary.
of being special, glamorous.
lesture.)
Not extraordinarY
Believe-It-Or-Not
items are
ral oddities (the two-headed
r cross) or else the
Products
d from here to China on his
{ew Testament on the head
glamour, the theatricalitY-
Camp.
re Belch, books like'IV'ines-
Iolls are bad to the
Point
of
int of being enioYable, is that
They lack fantasY. There is
No?cr on "ComP"
t 285
Camp in such bad movies as The Prodigaland
Samson and Delilah'
the series of Italian .oiot tpttt'cles
fJaturing the super'hero-Ma-
ciste, numeroos
1rp"r,ese
'Jitnt"
fiction films (Rodan'
The Mys-
Lrrri,t,
if," H-Min) because, in their
-relative
unpretentiousness
,rrJ uig"rity, they aie more e*treme and irresPonsible
in their fan-
irrr-ria
therefoie touching
and quite enioyable'
""i0.
oi
""ttt.,
tt
"
canon-of
Camp can chatrge'
Time has a gleat
a"ri to ao with it. Time may enhan&
what seems simply dogged
or
lacking in fantasy now because we are too close to it' because
it
,"*r.tsf"t too closely our own everyday
fantasies'
the fantastic
na'
irr" ,f which we dbn't perceive'
We are better able to enioy a
fantasy as fantasy when it is not our own'
---ii.'fnit
is why so many of the obiects prized by Camp taste.are
oti-irrt ior,.a, oorof-ax"i
aemoae'
It's not a love of the old as
;;;h.
ii't simply that the
Process
of aging or deterioral'"1-H*
,iio tfr" ,r."or"ry detachment-or
arouses a necessary
symPatny'
When the theme it i*pott'"t,
and contemPorary'
the failure of a
work of art may *rf."-It
itaignant'
Time t"' tittngt
that' Time
iii"*a"t
the work of art from iroral relevancg
delivering
it over to
t-h. C;*P sensibilit!. '-'-'
nnotf'"r- effect: time contracts
the
;;.;;i"nality.
(lianality
is, strictly speaking'
always a category
of the
"ort.*porrri.i^#ili;"
tat'a'"""
'iith
the passage
'of
time, becom. rrntrriil.
r*a"f p*pfe who.listen
with delight
to.the
tiri"'tf
Rudy Vallee-r.uiuta'Uy
the English
DoD sroup'
The Tem-
;:;il;.uj,,,
*ouia have been driven up thl wal"l bv'Rudv
Vallee
in his heydaY.
Thus, things are camPy, not when they become old-but
when
we become less involved
in them' and can enioy'-instead.
of be
frustratccl
by, thc f,ifttt of thc attempt'
But tlic effect of timc is
unprcdictabic.
l\'Iavbc N{cthod acting
(}amcs l)cau' Rocl Stciger'
iVlrt", Bcattv) to'ill
'""'.'''
as Carup somc clay as Ruby Kcclcr's does
now--{r
as Sarah S"*}t"at"
does' in the 6lms she made
at the
end of her career. And maYbe not,
-
3?. Campit tr,.'si"tii;'ii*
"f
"character'"
The statement
is of
no importance-ex?ept,
of course'
-to^the
person (Loie Fuller'
Gaudi,
Cecil B. il"N[iilt;-C'i'"tti"a"
Gaulle' etc') who makes it'
What the Camp .y"
ffitti"tes
is the unity' the force of the per'
I
286 . Agoinst interpretolion
son. In every move the aging Martha Graham makes she's being
Martha Graham, etc., etc. . . . This is clear in the case of the great
serious idol of Camp tastq Greta Garbo. Garbo's incompetence (at
the least, Iack of depth) as an actress enhances her beauty. She's
always herself.
33. What Camp taste responds to is "instant character" (this is,
of course, very l8th century); and, conversely, what it is not stirred
by is the sense of the development of character. Character is under-
stood as a state of continual incandescence-a person being ong
very intense thing. This attitude toward character is a key element
of the theatricalization of experience embodied in the Camp sensi-
bility. And it helps account for the fact that opera and ballet are
experienced as such rich treasures of Camp, for neither of these
forms can easily do justice
to the complexity of human nature.
Wherever there is development of character, Camp is reduced.
Among operas, for example, La Traviata (which has some small
development of character) is less campy than II Trovatore (which
has none).
"Life is too important a thing ever to talk seriously,rli$01.*,nr*r,
34. Camp taste tums its back on the good-bad axis of ordinary
aesthetic judgment.
Camp doesn't reverse things. It doesn't argue
that the good is bad, or the bad is good. What it does is to offer for
art (and life) a different-a supplementary-set of standards.
35. Ordinarily we value a work of art because of the seriousness
and dignity of what it achieves. We value it because it succeeds-in
being what it is and, presumably, in fulfilling the intention that lies
behind it. We assume a proper, that is to say, straightforward rela-
tion between intention and performance. By such standards, we
appraise The lliad, Aristophanes' plays, The Art of the Fugue,
Middlemarch, the paintings of Rembrandt, Chartres, the poetry of
Donne, The Divine Comedy, Beethoven's quartets, and-among
people-Socrates,
fesus,
St. Francis, Napoleon, Savonarola. In short,
the pantheon of high culture: truth, beauty, and seriousness.
36. But there are other creative sensibilities besides the serious-
ness (both tragic and comic) of high culture and of the high style
of evaluating people
one has respect only
may do or feel on thr
For instance, tlrer
anguish, cruelty, de
tween intention anc
personal existence a
best come from art.
Artaud, think of mo
tury, that is, art whc
overstraining the mr
and unresolvable, su
principle that an oe
life) is not possible
difterent standards
Something is good :
kind of truth abou
what it is to be hum
revealed.
And third amonl
sensibility of failed
ence. Camp refuses
and the risks of ful
37. T\e first sen
istic. The second st
resented in much c
a tension between r
wholly aesthetic.
38. Camp is the
incarnates a victor
"morality," of ironr
39. Camp and 1
Camp (seriousness
often, pathos. Tht
Camp; it is the qr
(for instance, The
the Dove) that is r
writings. But there
relolion
aham makes she's being
ar in the case of the great
larbo's incompetence (at
hances her beauty. She's
rstant character" (this is,
;ely, what it is not stirred
rcter. Character is under-
ce-a person being one,
haracter is a key element
rdied in the Camp sensi-
hat opera and ballet are
np, for neither of these
lexiiy of human nature.
rcter, Camp is reduced.
(which has some small
han II Trcvatore (which
:riously about it."
-\/g1x,
or The Nihilists
ood-bad axis of ordinary
things. It doesn't argue
'hat
it does is to offer for
-set
of standards.
ecause of the seriousness
t because it succeeds-in
rg the intention that lies
say, straightforward rela-
By such standards, we
The Art of the Fugue,
:, Chartres, the poetry of
s quartets, and-among
lon, Savonarola. In short,
. and seriousness.
ities besides the serious-
:re and of the high style
Nolec on
"ComPt'
t 287
of evaluating people. And one cheats oneself, as a human being, if
one has respect only for the style of high culture, whatever else one
may do or feel on the sly.
For instance, there is the kind of seriousness whose trademark is
anguish, cruelty, derangement. Here we do accept a disparity be-
tween intention and result. I am speaking, obviously, of a style of
personal existence as well as of a style in art; but the examples had
Lest come from art. Think of Bosch, Sade, Rimbaud,
|arry,
Kafka,
Artaud, think of most of the important works of art of the 20th cen-
tury, that is, art whose goal is not that of creating harmonies but of
overstraining the medium and introducing more and more violent,
and unresolvable, subject-matter. This sensibility also insists on the
principle that an oeuvre in the old sense (again, in art, but also in
life) is not possible. Only "fragments" are possible. . . . Clearly,
different standards apply here than to traditional high culture.
Something is good not because it is achieved, but because another
kind of truth about the human situation, another experience of
what it is to be human-in short, another valid sensibility-is being
revealed.
And third among the great creative sensibilities is Camp: the
sensibility of failed seriousness, of the theatricalization of experi-
ence. Camp refuses both the harmonies of traditional seriousness,
and the risks of fully identifying with extreme staies of feeling.
37. \\e first sensibility, that of high culture, is basically moral-
istic. The second sensibility, that of extreme states of ieeling, rep-
resented in much contemporary "avant-garde" art, gains power by
a tension between rnoral and aesthetic passion. The third, Camp, is
wholly aesthetic.
38. Camp is the consistently aesthetic experience of the world. It
incarnates a victory of "style" over "contentr" "aesthetics" over
"morality," of irony over tragedy.
39. Camp and tragedy are antitheses. There is seriousness in
Camp (seriousness in the degree of the artist's involvement) and,
often, pathos. The excruciating is also one of tlie tonalities of
Camp; it is the quality of excruciation in much of Henry
|ames
(for instance, Thi Euiopeans, The Awkward Age, The \X/ings-of
the Dove) that is responsible for the large element of Camp in his
writings. But there is never, never tragedy.
288 . Agoinrl inlarPrelolion
40. Style is everything. Genet's ideas, for instance, are very
Camp. Genet's statement that "the only criterion of an act is its
elegance"* is virtually interchangeable, as a statement, with
Wilde's "in matters of great importance, the vital element is not
sincerity, but style." But what counts, finally, is the style in which
ideas are held. The ideas about morality and politics in, say, Lady
'Windemere's
Fan and in Maior Barbaru are Camp, but not
iust
because of the nature of the ideas themselves. It is those ideas, held
in a special playful way. The Camp ideas in Our Lady of the Flowers
are maintained too grimly, and the writing itself is too successfully
elevated and serious, for Genet's books to be Camp.
41. The whole point of Camp is to dethrone the serious. Camp
is playful, anti-serious. More
precisely,
Camp involves a new, more
complex relation to "the serious." One can be serious about the
frivolous, frivolous about the serious.
47. One is drawn to Camp when one realizes that "sincerity" is
not enough. Sincerity can be simple philistinism, intellectual nar-
rowness.
43. The traditional means for going beyond straight seriousness
-irony,
satire-seem feeble today, inadequate to the culturally
oversaturated medium in which contemporary sensibility is
schooled. Camp introduces a new standard: artifice as an ideal,
theatricality.
44. Camp proposes a comic vision of the worl<i. But not a bitter
or polemicil iomedy. If tragedy is an experience of hyperinvolv-e'
*.-nt, .o*.dy is an experience of underinvolvement, of detach'
ment.
"I adore simple pleasures, they are the last refuge of the complex'"
-A'W'oman
of No ImPortance
45. Detachment is the prerogative of an elite; and as the dandy
is the 19th century's surrogate for the aristocrat in matters of cul-
ture, so Camp is the modern dandyism. Camp is the answer to
the problem: how to be a dandy in the age of mass culture.
*
Sartre's gloss on this in Saint Genet is: "Elegance is the glrality of conduct
which traniforms the greatest amount of being into appearing."
No'
46. The dandY was t
ennui. He sought rare s
(Models: Des Esseintes
rcan,Ya16ry's
Monsieur
The connoisseur
of
(
Not in Latin
Poetry
an
coarsest, commonest
PI'
does not defile the obier
them in a rare waY. Car
makes no distinction
bt
duced obiect. CamP tas'
47. Wilde himself is
he first came to Londo
teen knee-breeches
and
far in his life from the
servatism
is reflected
ir
his attitudes
suggest
sc
formulated
an imPort'l
eouivalence
of all oblt
"living uP" to his blu
knob could be as adrr
the importance
of the
was anticiPating
the de
48. The old-s$le
dz
the lover of C-amP,
aP
be continuallY
oftende
tinually amused,
delig
chief to his nostrils a:
Camp sniffs the stink a
49. It is a feat, ot c
bv the threat
of bort
ir*, taste cannot
bt
possiLle onlY in affiue
orperiencing
the
PsYct
lion
instancg are verY
:ion of an act is its
a statement,
with
rital element
is not
s the style in which
olitics in, say, LadY
3amp, but not
iust
t is those ideas, held
l-ady of the Flowers
If is too successfullY
imP.
e the serious. CamP
nvolves a new' more
rc serious about the
es that
"sincerity" is
ism, intellectual
nar'
I straight seriousness
rte to the culturallY
orary sensibilitY
is
artifice as an ideal,
orl<i. But not a bitter
nce of hyperinvolve-
clvement,
of detach-
uge of the comPlex."
ran of No lmPortance
lite; and as the dandY
:rat in matters of cul'
rmp is the answer to
mass culture.
is the qualitY of conduct
pearing."
Notes on "ComP"
t 289
46. The dandy was overbred'
His
Pqtjo-t"
was disdain'
or else
ennui.
He sought
*t";;;;;;;t'
'"aiqtg
bv mass appreciation'
(Models: Des Esseintet;;i;#nE
a Rtmuts'
Marius
the Epicu-
#J:i,fi
"n;;;;;*"i;ili
fii ;": credicated
to "good
taste'"
The connoisseur
ot-C;;;-tias
found
mo-re ingenious. d.e1u13s,
Not in Latin
poetry
'J;;I";i"es
and velvet
iackets'
but in the
coarsest,
commonest fi;;;tr"
"u
or *'e masses'
Mere
use
;;t;;i
ll-Ci" it'"
"b^it;i;
of his pieasure'
since he leams to possess
them
in e rare way' #;d;;5yit*
it' ft'"'g"
of mass t'l*t::
makes
no distinctio,
U"i*..r,
the unique
obiect
and the mass-Pro'
duced obiect.
Camp
t"t"'it""""nds
the
"u'!'
of the replica'
47. wilde r,i*r.lf
Tr', ir*ritr""a
figure.
The man who, when
he 6rst came to r'o"ai"l ilr"t.J;;:#t
beret'
lace shirts'
velve'
teen knee-breeches
'"J
Uf'Jt tift stockings'
could never
depart
too
far in his life from;:;il;
or *""ota-ttyle
dandy;'thtt-:::-
servatism
is reflected
i; f;ffi;';-e
it oo'ai
Grav' But manv
of
his attitudes
suggest
ilffi;;;e,modern'
It was
Wilde
who
formulated
,r, i*po'i'"t"
"ftti*t
of the
Cam'n's'en1!ill:''^-tl"
eouivalence
of
'ff
oiltti'-*hen
he annou''ttd
his intention
of
"living up" to r,rt u"rtil-'ia;ilii;
tt'1"'.,
or declared
that a door-
knob could
u. ,, ,ii"io-ii"
as a painting'
When
he proclaimed
the importance
of tf'"'"ttftti"'
the boutonniere'
the chair'
Wilde
i,t;,ffi;ii"g
ir" democratic
esprit
of Camp'
48. The ordotyre
i""'iy'
t"ttJ'
*r garity"i'tre
new-sty'le
dandy'
the lover
of Camp, *rttl"tJ
*'Ctt
fuht"
the dandy would
be continua*y
omtni""5'"t'ut*a'
tle-ctn"oisseur
of Camp
is con-
tinuallv amused,
atrishtti'"iht'dandy
held a
P'"tf
.T-{^11:St"
chief to his nostrils'
:;il';
ii'urt
itj-t*oon;
ih" connoisseur
of
d;;;Jfr;
tt e stint a"a prides,himselfon
his strong
newes'
4g. It is a feat,
"i;;;J..
A feat go,rled
on, in the last analysts'
bv the threat
of ;ttd;'
'il"
'Jr"tr"
u"t*o"
boredom
and
ir*, taste cannot'il;;;;ttiil"ita'
c'*o
taste is bv its nature
possiLle onlv in
'ffi*";;;;;"ii*'
rl *"itii!t
or circles
capable
of
ffi
.;i;ffi;
it L
!'v't'opatholosv
of afl uence'
29O . Agoinrt lnlerPrclollon
"\ilhat is abnormal in Life stands in normal relations to Art. It is
the only thing in Life that stands in normal relations to Art."
'
-A-Few
Maxims tor thelnstruction of the Over'Educated
50. Aristocracy is a position vis'i-vis culture (as well as vis-l-vis
power), and the history of Camp taste is part of the history of snob
iaste. But since no authentic aristocrats in the oid sense exist today
to sponsor special tastes, who is the bearer of this taste? Answer:
an improvisid self-elected class, mainly homosexuals, who consti'
tute themselves as aristocrats of taste.
5t. The peculiar relation beween Camp taste and homosexuaiity
has to be eiplained. While it's not true that Camp taste is homo-
sexual taste, there is no doubt a peculiar affinity and overlap. Not
all liberals are
fews,
but
)ews
have shown a peculiar affinity for lib'
eral and reformist causes. So, not all homosexuals have Camp taste.
But homosexuals, by and large, constitute the vanguard-and the
most articulate audiince--of Carnp. (The analogy is not frivolously
chosen.
|ews
and homosexuals are the outstanding creative minori'
ties in contemporary urban culture. Creative, that is, in the truest
sense: they are creators of sensibilities. The two pioneering forces
of modem sensibility are
|ewish
moral seriousness and homosexual
aestheticism and irony.)
57. T\e reason for the flourishing of the aristocratic posture
among homosexuals also seems to parallel the
|ewish
case. For
every sensibility is self-serving to the group that prornotes it.
|ewish
libeialism is a gesture of self-legitimization. So is Camp taste, which
definitely has something propagandistic about it. Needless to say, the
propaganda operates in exactly the opposite direction. The jews
pinned their hopes for integrating into modern society on promot-
ing the moral sense. Homosexuals have pinned their integration
inio society on promoting the aesthetic sense. Camp is a solvent of
morality. It neutralizes moral indignation, sponsors playfulness.
53. Nevertheless, even though homosexuais have been its van-
guard, Camp taste is much more than homosexual taste. Obvi'
ously, its metaphor of life as theater is peculiarly suited as a
justifi'
cation and projection of a certain aspect of the situation of homo
sexuals. (The Camp insistence on not being "serious,"on playing
Note
also connects with the I
Yet one feels that if hc
Camp, someone
else wot
tion to culture cannot d
ingly arbitrary and inger
tion to style in a time in
become altogether
ques
style, unless franklY anac
style.)
"One must have a hearl
without laughing."
54. The exPeriences
that the sensibilitY
of l
ment. CamP asserts th:
there exists, indeed, a g
this in Our LadY of the
of bad taste can be ver
and serious
Pleasures
is
'
restricts what he can t
taste he will eventuallY
Here CamP taste suPer
hedonism.
It makes th
he ran the risk of beir
digestion.
55. CamP taste is, a
tion-not
iudgment.
(
seems like malice, cYni
but a sweet cYnicism.)
taste to be serious; it
being seriouslY
drama
certain
Passionate
faiir:
56. CamP taste is a
ishes, rather than
ludl
ties of "character."
prctotlon
rrral relations to Art. It is
ral relations to Art."
:tion of the Over-Educated
rulture (as well as vis-i-vis
part of the history of snbb
n the old sense exist today
rrer of this taste? Answer:
homosexuals, who consti-
rp taste and homosexuality
ihat Camp taste is homo-
r affinity and overlap. Not
n a peculiar affinity for lib
rosexuals have Camp taste.
rte the vanguard-and the
re analogy is not frivolously
utstanding creative minori-
ative, that is, in the truest
The two pioneering forces
eriousness and homosexuai
lf the aristocratic posture
allel the
Jewish
case. For
np ihat promotes it.
|ewish
rn. So is Camp taste, which
bout it. Needless to say, the
>osite direction. The
Jews
nodern society on promot-
e pinned their integration
;ense. Camp is a solvent of
n, sponsors playfulness.
sexuais have been its van-
r homosexual taste. Obvi.
rcculiarly suited as a
iustifi-
: of the situation of home
being "seriousr"on playing
Noles on "ComP"
t 291
also connects with the homosexual's desire to remain youthful.)
Yet one feels that if homosexuals hadn't more or less invented
Camp, someone else would. For the aristocratic posture with rela-
tion to culture cannot die, though it may penist only in increas'
ingly arbitrary and ingenious ways' Camp is (to repeat) the rela-
tion to style in a time in which the adoption of s$le-as such-has
become altogether questionable. (In the modem era, each new
style, unless frankly anachronistic, has come on the scene as an anti-
s$le.)
"One must have a heart of stone to read the death of Little Nell
without laughing'"
-In
conversation
54. The experiences of Camp are based on the great discovery
that the sensibility of high culture has no monopoly upon refine-
ment. Camp asserts that good taste is not simply good taste; that
there exists, indeed, a good taste of bad taste. (Genet talks about
this in Our Lady of the Flowers.) The discovery of the good taste
of bad taste can be very liberating. The man who insists on high
and serious pleasures is depriving himself of pleasure; he continually
restricts what he can eni-oy; in the constant exercise of his good
taste he will eventually price himself out of the market, so to speak'
Here Camp taste supewenes uPon good taste as a daring and witty
hedonism. It makes the man of good taste cheerful, where before
he ran the risk of being chronically frustrated. It is good for the
digestion.
55. Cr*p taste is, above all, a mode of enioyment, of ap-precia-
tion-not
judgment. Camp is generous. It wants to enioy. It only
seems like malice, cynicism. (Or, if it is cynicism, it's not a ruthless
but a sweet cynicism.) Camp taste doesn't
ProPose
that it is in-bad
taste to be slrious; it doesn't sneer at someone who succeeds in
being seriously dramatic. What it does is to find the success in
certain passionate failures.
56. iamp taste is a kind of love, love for human nature' It rel'
ishes, rathei than
judges, the little triumphs and awkward intensi-
ties of "character." . . . Camp taste identifies with what it is en-
212 . Agoinrt lnlcrprctotloa
io)ong.
People who share this sensibility are not laughing at the
thing they label as "a @mp," they're enioying it. Camp is a tender
feeling.
(Here, one may compare Camp with much of Pop Art, which-
when it is not
iust
Campembodies an attitude tbet is rdated,
but still very difierent. Pop Art is more flat and more dry more
serious, more detached, ultimately nihilistic.
)
57. Camp taste nourishes itself on the love that has gone into
certain obiects and personal stylCI. The absence of this love is the
reason why such kitsch items as Peyton Place (the bool) end the
Tishman Building aren't Camp.
58. The ultimate Camp statement: it's good because it s awful.
. . . Of course, one can't alwap say that. Only undet crtain cpe
ditions, those which I've tried to sketch in these notes.
Ite64l
has been a good de
opened up some tY
dustrial Revolution,
and the scientific. ,{
articulate modern
1
exclusion of the ott
ments, different te<
different language. I
the mastery of these
artistic culture is un
man insofar as he
culture, in the sens
which a man has in.
that he has read. Tl