Warhol's Muses: The Artists, Misfits, and Superstars Destroyed By the Factory Fame Machine

 

There's a LOT you can take away from Laurence Leamer's dishy tell-all about Warhol and the women who surrounded him in the Factory. Chiefly, he was a terrible, terrible person.

As someone who used to lovingly look at old photos of Factory denizens in high school and wish I could go back in time to be a part of the scene, this made me sad and also horrified at how he treated the superstars he claimed to be closest to.

You could tell in interviews that he is rather a dick, but I didn't realize the extent of his sadism toward those in his inner circle.

One particular moment that stuck with me was how he made a younger inhabitant of the factory nearly drink himself to death and was gleefully filming it, humiliating him to a grotesque extent.

This behavior extended especially to his primary muse, the charming, beautiful, effervescent Edie Sedgwick (naturally pictured on the cover).

Since my mid-teens, I have always had a fascination with Edie: her style, the way she talked, her joie de vivre.

Even with just a modicum of knowledge of Factory life, it was obvious that a lot of her energy and spirit was attributable to meth. However, I didn't know how dark and deep of an addiction it was until I saw "Ciao! Manhattan" recently, which quite frankly horrified me.

Filmed in her home state of California after she had left New York due to a crippling drug addiction, "Ciao! Manhattan" is an exploitation of a little girl who was truly ill and had a lifetime of family trauma to fight against.

Where Leamer succeeds with Warhol's Muses is painting a successful picture of how truly dark, empty and soulless it was for the women who were viewed as glamorous superstars in the 60's alternative press. 

It's evident that he likely spent years delving into archival footage, recordings and accounts of Warhol and his factory inhabitants, successfully bringing to life how narcissistic and devoid of talent he truly was.

He built a career around exploitation, with Factory being a fitting title for his primary place of work because the studio served more as an assembly line for each piece, which required minimal effort.

The only critique I would have is that it seems like the chapters are a bit disjointed. Had he focused perhaps on three superstars maximum, it wouldn't feel as rushed, even if it meant a shorter book.

Rating: 8/10