541 CHRONICLESnwho benefited most from Breton’snopaque theorizing, from vague Freudiannnotions then in the air, from Marinetti’snNietzschean gesticulations.nThroughout his hfe, DaH lectured andnwrote extensively, producing a novel,nHidden Faces. Although, as literature,nthe novel is highly derivative, a clumsynattempt to dress the sensibilities of anHuysmans in the idioms of a Musil, itnreveals a facile. Protean talent for verbalnmanipulation. By contrast, a painternlike Yves Tanguy (“I’ve pinchedneverything from your Uncle Yves,”nDali would later admit to the artist’snniece) had only his pictures to do thentalking for him.nThere is no denying that during thendecade preceding the outbreak of thenwar in Europe, Salvador Dali developednand functioned as a painter ofnmajor talent, producing the worksnupon which posterity’s favorable judgmentnof him would rest. (In the wordsnof one picture dealer quoted by MissnSecrest, “Before 1930 he had notnfound himself and after that decade henwas just repeating himself”) Yet it isnequally clear that even then, duringnthe one decade of original creativitynallotted to him, Dali saw painting as anmeans of producing merchandise.nFrom the outset, his supreme goal wasnfame, measured, in a commercial society,nin money. He was well ahead ofnthe competition: painters like Tanguyncould not talk up their merchandise,nwhile babblers like Tristan Tsara hadnnone to sell. Breton would later distillnthe envy of a whole generation into hisnanagram of “Salvador Dali”: “AvidanDollars” (“greedy for dollars”).nThe Big Time, then as now, meantnAmerica, where the emperors of anburgeoning upper middle class were inndesperate need of new clothes. Thensuccess of Dali’s first visit to the StatesnFor Immediate ServicenChroniclesnNEW SUBSCRIBERSnTOLL FREE NUMBERn1-800-435-0715nILLINOIS RESIDENTSn1-800-892-0753nin 1935 exceeded his wildest expectations:n”All-Time High in GothamnSmart Set’s Traditional Pursuit of NewnThrills, No Matter How Crazy, is thenLatest Cock-Eyed Rage for SalvadornDali, the ‘Super-Realist’ Who PaintsnHis Nightmares Which Critics ApplaudnWhile Mortals Grow Dizzy” rannthe headline in the New York SundaynMirror. Four years later, he consolidatednthat success by smashing one of thenFifth Avenue shop windows whichnBonwit Teller had commissioned himnto design, allegedly after an aestheticndisagreement. “Through the Windownto Fame,” ran the headline, and soonnthereafter Life magazine would reportnthat he was now one of the richestnartists in the world.nBut it was not until after the war,nwhen prosperity all but cried out forncultural epatement, that Dali becamena household name. In fact, “epater”nhad given way to cretinser,” and thenstupefied bourgeois was appreciativenbeyond measure. The “surrealist jester”nhad now entered the final phase ofnhis life. In 1974, a car stopped bynFrench customs was found to containn40,000 blank sheets signed by Dali, anroutine event for the industry which, itnhas been estimated, has manufacturednsome one billion dollars worth ofn”Dali” for sale. “Original” lithographs,netchings, and the like producednwith and without the artist’snconsent are sold throughout the world.nThey are as fake as the sensibilities ofnthose who buy them.nPerhaps every society deserves thenart that it has. A few years ago reviewingna memoir of Chagall in the WallnStreet journal, I described how thenyoung artist, self-taught and wildeyed,nescaped from provincial Vitebsknand let his genius transform its drearinessninto masterpieces of universalnvalue which the art world of Paris andnMoscow was sophisticated enough tonappreciate:nBy the end of the 20’s and thenearly 30’s, Mr. Chagall hadncaught on, although “fame”ndid not come until after thenwar. By “fame,” I mean thatnclimate of almost mythologicalnadulation, accompanied bynpromotional abandon, that hasnpermeated the art market innour time. But what had caughtnnnon was little more than anmanner, the artist’s initialngrappling with a reality thatnhappened to be the reality ofnVitebsk.nFrom then on, the worldnwanted Vitebsk; it was notninterested in how Mr. Chagallnwould see Paris. In due time,nwith the help of critics intent ofnachieving “fame” for him, Mr.nChagall became a machine—anfactory designed tonmanufacture “Chagall-like”nviews of Vitebsk.nThis is a controversial view.nThe very nature of the public’sninvestment in Mr. Chagallnseems to preclude, or at leastndiscourage, an honest analysisnof the Chagall phenomenon,nwhich, if it went public today,nwould doubtiess rank on the listnof the 500 leading industrials.nNobody wants to blow thenwhistle.nAnd, indeed, what is there tonblow the whistle on? There isnno law to prevent an artist fromnresponding to public demandnand marketing a world viewnthat sells. Nor is there anythingnunlawful in an artist’s insiderntrading, seeking to acquire hisnearly paintings because henalone guesses their true valuen(sometimes offering as many asnsix “new works” for one “old,”nas Mr. Chagall reportedly hasnbeen doing). In short, nothingnprevents the artist fromnoutgrowing his “holy fool”nreputation and making millionsnoff a public grown foolish.nNow, after Chagall’s death, the recentlynrevealed Soviet collection of hisnearly work has backed up that controversialnview. Chagall is a pure examplenof an artist who “turns the tables” onnsociety at the expense of his own talent.nBut what about Dali, who nevernhad even a tenth of Chagall’s talent,nand what about Miro, Picasso, andnother “household” names? Like Chagall,nthey are the century’s classics.nAre we their victims—or are theynours?nAndrei Navrozov is poetry editor fornChronicles.n