Which as You Know Means Violence

Description

A blending of art and pop cultural criticism about people who injure themselves for our entertainment or enlightenment.A few weeks before he died, Hunter S. Thompson left an answerphone message for Jackass’ Johnny Knoxville: “I might be coming to Baton Rouge… and if I do I will call you, because I will be looking to have some fun, which as you know usually means violence.” Fun does not, of course, mean violence for most people. Those who choose to make a hobby, a career or an art practice out of injury are wired differently — subject to unusual motivations, and quite often powered by an ardent death-drive.In Which as You Know Means Violence, writer and art critic Philippa Snow analyses the subject of pain, injury and sadomasochism in performance, from the more rarefied context of contemporary art to the more lowbrow realm of pranksters, stuntmen and stuntwomen, and uncategorisable, danger-loving YouTube freaks.
In a world where violence — of the market, of climate change, of capitalism — is part of our everyday lives, Which as You Know Means Violence focuses on those who enact violence on themselves, for art or entertainment, and analyses the role that violence plays in twenty-first century culture. “The best book I’ve read on art and pain since Maggie Nelson’s Art of Cruelty, and a worthy successor to that work.” – Joanna Walsh, author of Girl Online“Snow writes with such kinetic, sensory power here, alongside her characteristic, roving intelligence, that I felt I’d (somewhat queasily) witnessed, as well as read, this gripping exploration of pain and performance. Which As You Know Means Violence is as smart, fearless and funny as its many sensitively drawn subjects. Brilliant.” – Olivia Sudjic, author of Asylum Road
”With her sharp insight and ferocious sense of fun, Philippa Snow is the rare critic with the daring necessary to juxtapose Jackass and feminist body art, to probe their entangled strains of suffering and liberation. These essays are feats of intellectual agility that feel eye-opening, risky, and all too relevant to our half-mad moment.” – Alexandra Kleeman, author of You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine
“A scintillating look at bodily harm in art and society, from Buster Keaton to Jackass, which puts the late 90s and 2000s in its rightful place as a historically and culturally important moment while showing how capitalist society is forever a sado-masochistic death cult. Snow is witty, funny and sharp as a knife.” – Camilla Grudova, author of The Doll’s Alphabet“It is a true pleasure to become immersed in writing that is capable of connecting so many dots with such dexterity and grace.” – Natasha Stagg, author of Sleeveless: Fashion, Image, Media, New York 2011-2019.“Snow has somehow created an enjoyable—indelible- book-length meditation on pain. Most notable is its critical analysis of hurt in the culture industry at large.” – Stephanie La Cava, author of I Fear My Pain Interests You. “Provocative and intensely readable, humane and beautifully drawn parallels between subjects of violence and their disposition to harm. Absolutely captivating.” – Alice Ash, author of Paradise Block Philippa Snow is a writer based in Norwich. Her reviews and essays have appeared in publications including Artforum, The Los Angeles Review of Books, ArtReview, Frieze, The White Review, Vogue, The New Statesman, The TLS, and The New Republic. She was shortlisted for the 2020 Fitzcarraldo Editions Essay Prize. FI