Allison Raeck

While adjectives often seem like nothing more than decoration in a piece of writing, Joan Didion expresses their worth. On the surface, her adjectives may appear as nothing more than colorful language to add interest to the story; they capture the reader’s attention, making them feel as though they are standing in the center of the actual museum. Constant descriptions may even seem irritating to the reader, who simply wants to gather information from the text. Is a reason Joan Didion includes such an excess of descriptive language? Once the audience digs deeper into “The Getty,” they realize that Didion’s adjectives are much more than flowery language; they are a well-camouflaged tool used to express a variety of opinions, both positive and negative, that various members of society associate with The Getty. She chooses her words with care in her article, “The Getty,” and uses them to present the ironic nature of her opinion. She dives deep into the world of descriptive language, and in doing so, reveals her own rebellious, positive opinion of The Getty. Joan Didion’s repetition of derogatory adjectives not only describes why critics dislike The Getty, but, ironically, it also expresses why she understands its artistic value.

Many of Didion’s sentences are periodic and filled with adjectives, attempting to give the reader a glimpse of her complicated feelings toward The Getty. She writes that the museum is “Mysteriously and rather giddily splendid, hidden in a grove of sycamores just above the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu…” (74). While she could have simply stated that The Getty was secluded, Didion provides a highly descriptive account of the museum’s location. This description is camouflaged; to the reader, it may seem like Didion is simply attempting to add interest to her article and give the audience a mental image, tying them to the story. Additionally, Didion uses the repetition of short sentences with one adjective each to first explain how critics describe the Getty. She writes, “From the beginning, The Getty was said to be vulgar. The Getty was said to be ‘Disney.’ The Getty was said to be Jewish…” (74). “Vulgar,” “Disney,” and “Jewish” all describe the museum, but the reader has no idea how to interpret these words so early in the article. While these terms are not usually used synonymously, they all describe The Getty. For this reason, when reading the piece, readers likely find themselves overloaded with description. Once they are able to form a broad opinion of what The Getty is like, they are faced with yet another description, twisting and turning their previous thoughts into something new. Through her use of extreme adjectives, Didion’s personal opinion is difficult to deduce in the beginning of the article; readers wonder, does Joan Didion actually appreciate the style of The Getty, or is she using a tone of sarcasm?

Confusion is so apparent because, in “The Getty,” each adjective is both a question and a clue. A word may cause the reader to further question Didion’s stance on The Getty’s artistic value but, at the same time, come closer to drawing a conclusion. The correlation between Didion’s multitude of adjectives and the confusion felt by the reader is not coincidental. Her method of laying out all of her thoughts at once reveals Didion’s belief in the multifaceted nature of The Getty. The amount of adjectives used in the piece emphasizes the seemingly indescribable nature of the museum, and it points out how one cannot explain it in just a few words. Didion mentions that The Getty “is ritually dismissed as ‘inauthentic,’ although what ‘authentic’ could mean in this context is hard to say,” (75). As an adjective, “inauthentic” is extremely vague; while it could imply that The Getty is artificial and tacky, it could also imply that its displays are so historically accurate that they are disloyal to the contemporary styles of other art museums. “Authentic” is merely a relative word, therefore it is interpreted differently by every reader. In pointing out the ambiguity of this term, Didion not only makes a statement about the indescribable nature of the museum, but about and the weakness of the written word in general. Repetition of adjectives in the article shows her recognition that The Getty is much more complicated than mere words can describe.

Since Didion’s adjectives are so openly interpreted, they can easily contradict one another. In the beginning of the article, the words used to introduce the museum are extreme; they describe the Getty as a place that is either over-dressed or under-dressed, and there is no middle ground. While Didion uses the largely uplifting terms “giddily splendid” and “seventeen million dollar” (74) to describe the museum, she also explains that it is seen as “vulgar,” (74) “reproachful,” and “inaccessible” (75). Again, the reader does not know what to think of The Getty. Is it an expansive, luxurious display or a poor excuse for a museum? Eventually, through Didion’s mention of various critiques, readers come to understand that the uplifting terms used to describe the museum actually put down the museum. Though it may seem like the description “giddily splendid” would put The Getty in a positive light, readers eventually understand that art critics, who are often known to resist mainstream culture, see this flashy display as tacky and distasteful. Because of the art world’s dislike of what mainstream society would consider beautiful, words that initially seem like praise work as insults in the piece. This adds to the article’s general ironic and confusing nature, making it even more challenging for readers to comprehend Didion’s stance.

It is evident that Didion’s adjectives play a much larger role in her piece than to simply stir up the thoughts of the reader. Contrasting adjectives and presentation of the feeling of confusion create a window to her own ironic opinion. Didion herself was likely unsure of what to think of The Getty at one point, torn between the opinions of art critics and what she saw with her own eyes. Her use of quotation marks around certain adjectives designate what she has heard from what she actually believes, thus emphasizing the point that Didion is skeptical of The Getty’s critics. In the beginning of her piece she even cites what news sources think of the museum when she explains that the Los Angeles Times described it as “’like a Beverly Hills nouveau-riche dining room,’” and that the New York Times said it was “’gussied up like a Bel-Air dining room,’” (74). The simile of a dining room is an obvious similarity between these two opinions, which partners Didion’s skeptical nature; it emphasizes the tendency of critics to blindly follow one another, regardless of their personal beliefs. The variety of terms used to describe The Getty demonstrate multiple viewpoints regarding its artistic merit and lead the reader to ask the question that presents itself everywhere in the piece: Is The Getty’s flashiness really as gaudy as the critics believe?

While many of the adjectives used to describe The Getty may seem antonymous, they all work together to cast a negative light on the museum. Didion uses this wide range of adjectives to express how critics view The Getty; they believe it is a tacky, inauthentic representation of the artistic culture. According to Didion, the snobby critics in the art world would put down the museum, and she explains that “Something about the place embarrasses people” and “the collection itself is usually referred to as ‘that kind of thing,’ as in ‘not even the best of that kind of thing,’ or ‘absolutely top-drawer if you like that kind of thing,’ both of which translate as ‘not our kind of thing,’” (75). The mention of embarrassment and the phrase “that kind of thing” are strong descriptions of how critics view The Getty; they believe it is a cliché, Disneyland-esque tourist attraction. However, contrary to what one may expect, this constant reminder of how critics see The Getty is used to emphasize the statement Didion believes it makes. She constantly brings up the negative comments critics have made regarding The Getty not to agree with the art critics, but to make them seem overbearing and uninformed. In this way, negative reviews do the opposite of what one may expect, and present Getty in a positive light.

It is not until later in Didion’s piece that the reader notices subtle hints pointing toward her own opinion of the museum. Readers realize that Didion sees something positive in the Getty that others don’t notice, and that her opinion of the museum is very different from that of the critics she describes. While art critics make statements against The Getty, Didion believes The Getty makes a statement against its critics. Through its “vulgar” nature, The Getty breaks social norms, and “resists contemporary notions about what art is or should be or ever was,” (76). Through this statement, a whole new realm of possibility is opened up to the reader in regards to not just The Getty, but society’s notion of what is considered art. The audience is led to realize that perhaps one should not blindly follow those who claim to understand art (or any cultural element, for that matter), but form an individual opinion based on personal belief. Through presentation of this ground-breaking idea, a tone of rebellion presents itself in Didion’s piece. Her subversive voice is finally understood, and the reader realizes that, though she describes it negatively, Didion appreciates The Getty.

Like The Getty itself, Didion makes an unpopular but true political statement; regardless of how much humans believe they have developed, not much changes in time. Being a population obsessed with beautification, the desire to clean up the past is strong. She mentions how “A Louis XV writing table tends to please the modern eye only if it has been demystified by a glass of field flowers and some silver-framed snapshots, as in a Horst photograph for Vogue,” (75). While art critics may find this updated version of a writing table more appealing to the eye, it does not represent the art world’s past. Though people want to see what they perceive as beautiful, Didion points out that the truth is often very ugly. She explains this by saying, “the Getty tells us that the past was perhaps different from the way we like to perceive it” (76). The Getty’s ancient marbles are gaudy for an ironically unclear reason: ancient marbles were gaudy. The Getty’s bare Louis XV writing table is bare because writing tables were bare. Didion emphasizes how, through accurately representing the past, The Getty displays much more than art; it makes a bold statement regarding the importance of remembering the past and, as tempting as it may seem, to avoid beautification.

In today’s society, the desire to follow is strong. People will often assume anything to be true simply based on who said it. This could be for a variety of reasons. Perhaps people are not motivated to face life’s difficult questions. Perhaps people are afraid to look inside themselves. Perhaps people honestly believe that the opinions of others are more credible than their own. Through her use of adverse descriptive language to express something she favors, Joan Didion’s description of The Getty in itself is a contradiction. Her ironic means of describing the museum lead the reader to think different, and to suddenly understand that if one wants to see, one must not blindly follow.