Tag Archives: Stein

Jean Stein “Edie: American Girl”


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  • It was a rainy night, when she came to see me, not long after, and she came to me as a friend, very strung up. She didn’t cry. Just an odd sense of anguish. She felt that space was closing in on her. Her family was going to get her, or the universe was going to get her, or with any luck she’d get herself first.
  • I think Edie was something Andy would like to have been; he was transposing himself into her a la Pygmalion. Have you ever noticed a certain type of man who always wants to go along with his wife to pick out her clothes? I’ve always thought that’s because he wants to wear them himself. Andy would like to have been Edie. He would like to have been a charming, well-born debutante from Boston. He would like to have been anybody except Andy Warhol.
  • It’s usually very fragile people who bring out the fragility in somebody else, especially in a tough place like New York. It’s like being injured.
  • I mean, after all, poets are healers of a kind. There’s a sort of a psychic nerve they’re touching.
  • She never finished a sentence, she never looked you in the face, she was never there. She wasn’t getting a lot of attention, so she was just kind of floating around. Very distracted. /…/ Maybe she was from the underworld. She reminded me of Montgomery Cliff. He once said to me: “I would like to go down into the depths of the underworld, the depths of darkest experience and come back and tell about it.”
  • “I think, looking back, that a very early age he had decided what it was he wanted: fame – that is, to be a famous person. His drive was simply that: fame was the name of the game…not really talent. Not art. Whereas with me I think it was the other way around: an intense preoccupation with an art form, which in turn led to fame. Mind you, I’m not saying that Andy Warhol doesn’t have any talent, because obviously he has some, he has to. But I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is that he’s talented at, exept that he’s a genius as a self-publicist.”
  • Andy never sat down. One always had the sense of him standing or pacing around slowly. This was Andy, this sleepwalker in the mid-Sixties, on his feet all the time.
  • …Andy was the queen of passivity… the absolute son of nonexistence. He was just divinely not there. /…/ It was easy to impersonate Andy because to the questions I’d always say “Yes” or “No” or “Maybe”, “I don’t know, I don’t think about it” which is the way Andy would have answered these questions.
  • It seemed like she had so many friends, but when you really looked at her face, it was like she never had any friends.
  • I was always intimidated and self-conscious when I talked to her or was in her presence because she was like art. I mean, she was an object that had been very strongly, effectively created. /…/ She had so much life in her. Her movement was fluid and she was like a little queenie.
  • We have to get used to the reality that we’re alone. If you can’t get used to it, then you go mad.
  • There must have been some frustration. She was after life and sometimes life doesn’t come fast enough.
  • She didn’t know how to be in love. If you don’t love yourself you can’t love anybody else.

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