Now, we are confronted with a Houellebecq-style sequel that, in re-presenting him as a total artist – and who could deny that he isn’t – functions as a successful Web or TV series. The important thing is to fuel oneself with stimuli that emphasise the indelible and total incomprehension of the contemporary art world, to underline its total extraneousness. It is strange that the show by the same author in the novel The Map and the Territory – and now we can say so unashamedly – went to tormented lengths to explain the functioning of the contemporary art “system”. Time wasted if he really was so scarcely interested in it.
So, it may be better to wait for the new book on the super rich. Faced with this jolt of bovarism made by proxy – at least Warhol dreamt of being a housewife – all we can do is insert a coin in the outmoded jukebox that Houellebecq has placed in the exhibition and listen to a song by Carla Bruni, hoping that the bling-bling aesthetic has really had its day. But perhaps it is more fitting to ask the gallery representing him how much one of his works costs: ils est temps de faires vos jeux
until 11 September 2016
Palais de Tokyo
13, avenue du Président Wilson, Paris