D, a once-incendiary JD who is in the twilight of her career, we get the disconnection between art and artist that makes this book run: Juvenile Delinquents are probably not as much pop stars as much as they’re just assholes who insist on bursts of disruptive selfishness.Īny artist reading this book will surely see themselves in it, because we’re all self-absorbed already. These juvenile delinquents are Elvis and The Rock and Jennifer Lawrence, except their work is held up as a series of meaningful statements in additional to cultural touch-points. I hesitate to call them “pranks” like I would hesitate to call “A Day In the Life” a “little ditty.” His new book, Brat, takes the idea of juvenile delinquency and turns into celebrity culture, a sort of performance art where the tantrums and lashings-out of its perpetrators into acts of beauty and admiration. For years now Michael DeForge has been building these fucked-up worlds that sit on top of and inside our own world all at once, as if there’s a dimension we can’t comprehend where we’re all just twigs or neckless shapes with the same problems of simply not knowing how to be.
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