This collection of essays spans many years. (It might have helped if all the essays were dated, rather than just a few.) The book is divided into two parts: the first a more personal account of artists and writers whose influence he has relished; the second a more discursive set of essays ranging from anything from the role of the peasantry in society to a visit to Palestine. The first half is perhaps the more engaging: Berger’s passions for cubism, Benjamin, Barthes etc shine through. He writes with a generous enthusiasm. There are other essays, notably the one entitled White Bird, about the peasant tradition in Eastern Europe of carving a white bird for the home, where his analysis of the intersection between culture and society (and names) feels wonderfully lucid.
It’s hard to know how to place Berger. On the one hand, he might be seen as a lost prophet of British culture. One, like Brook, who fled the country and whose local influence waned as a result. On the other, he might be seen as a kind of Ruskin in waiting, a writer whose work will continue to be read years after other contemporaries in the art world are forgotten. The reason for the latter is that Berger, at his best, goes towards the nub of the experience of ‘experiencing’ art, in all its multiple dimensions. He tries to get under the skin of the weird relationship between society and culture, and on occasion in this collection of essays it feels as though he nails it. Having said which, although this book namechecks Debord, among others, at other times his insistent Marxism feels dated. Which is not to say that Marxism is dated; rather than the relationship Berger writes about feels dated, as he struggles to come to terms with the dashed dreams of the post-war world.
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