Depraved: The Story of Dangerous Art

by Daisy Dixon

“Timely and punchy… won’t let you look away”—The Guardian

“Essential, sparklingly smart.”—Dan Jones, New York Times bestselling author of The Plantagenets and Henry V

A bold, expansive argument for a new way to understand immoral art in our time of cultural and political upheaval

In this unconventional journey through the history of art, philosopher and artist Daisy Dixon explores works of art that society has condemned as depraved, obscene, or dangerous, from prehistoric sculpture to extreme metal music, videogames to classical paintings. Interrogating our sense of morality, past and present, Depraved asks listeners to engage with essential questions about art, censorship, social progress, and the eternal debate over right and wrong. Can an artwork speak? How can it shape or distort our world? Who gets to decide whether a work of art is depraved, and what are the qualities that make it so? And of course, what should we do about it?

As art is subjected to renewed criticism in the cultural and political spheres, it is imperative that we examine it with care. Only by understanding the long history of depraved art can we begin to bring our own age into focus. Art can be dangerous—but censorship can be equally catastrophic. Where does this leave us? With wit, fascinating anecdotes, and shrewd analysis, Dixon crafts a path forward that demands a new understanding of the nature of art itself.

Genres: Nonfiction, Art, History, Feminism, Art History, Audiobook, Cultural

304 pages, Hardcover

First published June 18, 2026

Reviews

[Petra: Life begins at the end of your comfort zone]

I like art, every city, every country I go to, it's art galleries that are first on the list. Sometimes I even go to countries just for the art. Last year we were in Tokyo and found Yayoi Kusama's museum was closed, but that Melbourne had three more days left of the biggest exhibition of her work ever, so we went to Australia.

I like a bit of danger to my adventures. It's been a while now since I did any ocean sailing, and decades since I lived with Caboclo Indians up the Amazon. Now my danger is a bit of ziplining and racing fabulous cars a bit too fast when I get the chance. (My own car is a 2013 Outlander missing a wing light and no aircon not what you call a sports car really).

In the privacy of my own home, I might by some more conventional souls be called depraved. I think that's enough said about that. So this book looks made for me and I think I'm going to order it.

[Samantha · Rating 2 out of 5]

Read Claire Dederer’s Monsters instead.

This is Daisy Dixon’s admirable but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to instruct readers on how to think about monstrous artists and their work.

The book seems to suffer from two primary problems. The first is Dixon’s claim that “I know art when I see it,” which is followed by a discussion of a lot of things that are not in fact, art. There is a LOT of real estate devoted to video games here. I would argue that this is entirely a separate topic, but we can certainly debate whether the graphics in, say, Grand Theft Auto qualify as art and are therefore relevant to this discussion.

But a rape roleplay game found only in the dark corners of the internet is not art, and has no place in this discussion, unless you’re arguing that everything ever created is art, which then becomes an argument about philosophy rather than art itself.

Dixon titles herself as a philosopher rather than as an art historian like myself. While that explains some of the out-of-the-box definitions of art (none of which she ever really commits to), it also doesn’t fly because it ignores one of the principal tenets of philosophy, which is that there are no ties from the philosopher personally to the philosophy itself. Which is about as close to an instruction to separate the art and the artist as you can get.

Which brings us to the second major issue with this book, which is that Dixon has already made all your decisions for you. She’s telling you what to think and who and what to think it about, which is certainly not best practice in either philosophy or art history.

Unlike Dederer’s Monsters, which offers the reader options on *how* to think about these issues, Dixon comes in brandishing what she believes to be “correct” opinions and asserts that we should simply take her word on who is a monster and what is depraved.

While I don’t disagree with most of her conclusions in that regard, the point is that good writing on this subject should be discussing how to build an informed opinion on these things rather than declaring what that opinion should be.

This also leads to a lot of oversimplification, implying there are only two choices in which to file art and artists: depraved bucket and non-depraved bucket. There is a lot of nuance to both what is depraved and what is art that got lost here. I’d venture that even the word depraved has a lot more nuance than is offered, despite Dixon’s labored efforts to justify choosing this word specifically.

What Dixon does get right (and this counts for a lot) is her philosophy on what we should do with all this “depraved” art. Burying, censoring, or destroying these things has never been the right approach. While I consider how one views these things to be largely an individual decision, Dixon is correct that rather than, for example, burying the offending painting in the museum vault, best practice is to display it with context about its potential depravity or the depravity of its creator, so that the object becomes instructive despite its potentially problematic origins and intent.

[Cordelia · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is so good! Dixon provides all art history needed to read and fully understand this book!!

[ItsMeH · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think I ought to preface that I stumbled upon this book by happenstance in the middle of a month long vacation in the United Kingdom. I found it at a waterstones and the cover, as well as the content, seemed interesting, and it had been produced by someone of whom I was mildly aware of from their online presence during the COVID years. Suffice to say, that this book was nestled into my back-pack for the entire duration of the month, and was frequently consumed while on various pro-longed and delayed train rides, and in the hours of the late evenings, as well as through many an ordeal. I was in possession of this book (and actually reading it) when a gun was brandished at the bar I was at in Liverpool, it was likewise with me when I spent a night out and met a lovely group of drag queens - all of whom enjoyed reading parts of the first chapter while we had gone for crepes in the morning. I had taken it with me across all the areas of the UK that I had stumbled upon, and despite being a fairly new purchase, the book exhibits the wear and tear of time etched all over it. From random curry stains, to small rips and tears, I don't think I've had a unique adventure with one book especially while travelling - it may just well become a ritual wherein I take this particular book with me, just because of the sheer obscenity of situations that it had whilst in my possession on a half-baked, hastily planned, month long vacation.

Dr. Daisy Dixon's "Depraved" is a vast foray into the realms of art, art history, and philosophy. If there would be one criticism one could have towards the book itself, is that it encompasses aspects of all three mentioned whilst not formally committed to one or the other. Which is to say, to many a lay-person - and even respective experts or self-titled ones - the purpose and a premise of the book may be confusing, obscure, or otherwise appearing to be un-focused or overly prescriptive.

The reality is, however, that the book is neither of those things, and it provide - at least in my opinion - a very unique and interesting venture into those respective topics. Though, it is true that this work seems to be linked to an ongoing project that is still being formulated and expanded upon and it would in-turn be interesting to view the continuity of said work. As it stands, "Depraved" is an interesting, unique, and somewhat 'brave' approach towards a philosophy of aesthetics and its concurrent socio-historical context. Dixon weaves a brilliant through-line of various pieces of 'art' and corresponding 'art works' throughout different points in time and provides a work that is both anthropological in its analysis of societal (mainly British and Western European) reactions to art, the role of the state and legislature in shaping, creating, allowing, and censoring said art, and the societal, philosophical, and moral repercussions thereof.

The central thesis that Dixon postulates is that art can be aesthetically/representively immoral, constitute a speech-act (specifically hate-speech/incitement), be authored and/or created by a person or groups of people who are immoral, and/or be produced in such a way that is immoral. Yet, with all that said, Dixons main thesis is that in-spite of said immorality, said works of art should not be censored, hidden, or otherwise obfuscated, but precisely placed, analyzed, and criticized within that immoral framework that it inhabits. In other words - it is a counter to erasure and censorship and argues that the actual way to defeat immoral art is to create more and better art, whilst acknowledging the immorality of the art that was produced. This, to me at least, is a very bold thesis to propose, especially one to come out of the UK which, in my assessment, is a society which values aesthetic pleasability and more often than not obfuscates anything which is undesirable - at least that is what my month long stay in the UK had shown me as someone who works in social services in Canada.

I particularly found the section with regard to the early history of Black Metal to be very powerful and profound, and a part that was much appreciated due to the 'niche' history that it entails. For anyone accustomed to or has previously had any interest in Black Metal - the early history of it in Norway has some level of niche iconic status. It has, however, never been tackled - at least from what I can see - in a way that positions the events that occurred with Euronymous and Burzum (and Varg Vikerns notorious white supremacist beliefs) as part and parcel of the genre's early creation. For all intents and purposes, it has often been treated as a little interesting 'tid-bit' of information, but the analysis of Burzum's music and the imagery it evokes, appropriates, and utilizes as one deeply imbedded in neo-Nazi, white supremacist, iconoclasm. This, quite frankly, had been something I hadn't noticed previously, and while I did have some aversion to Burzum and early Black Metal due to the pervasive immoral beliefs, it never dawned upon me that said beliefs also manifested in the 'ethereal' lyricism and musicality of the genre itself. It does, rather interestingly, make one wonder to what extent this has unintentional been propagated across Black Metal as a genre without full understanding of the where it comes from; because as far as I'm aware, the same imagery is still very common in Black Metal and the subsequent sub-genres that it heavily influenced such as shoegaze etc.

This is all to say, that I found this book to be profound on many levels, and whilst I have seen many hastily criticize and/or wave it off due to 'death of the author' which is an outdated, fairly shallow understanding of both art and Dr Dixons point in the book. The positioning of Art as a sociological and in come case individually autonomous speech act, is both interesting, unique, and novel. It appears to me to be part and parcel of a broader link of work and thought that is being crafted and developed, and I would very much wish to see the continued development thereof. All in all, I found this book uniquely enjoyable, deeply entertaining, and a thorough anthropological dissection of dangerous, depraved, and obscene art, with an interesting philosophical prescription added to it. I would certainly recommend this to anyone interested in art, art history, and literary criticism - and I am ever so perplexed to have stumbled upon this oh so very randomly in waterstones of all places.

[Thorkell Ottarsson · Rating 2 out of 5]

I read a review in the Guardian which made this sound like a bold take on Depraved art. Sadly, there was very little new or brave in this book.

Let me start with what I liked. I do believe in free speech, and I did like how Daisy defends the usefulness and importance of not destroying what could be considered depraved. I would have added more points to the argument, but I do applaud a feminist for daring to take that stand. It has not been a popular view among feminists.

My main problem with the book is the core theory. That we know depraved art by the artist. The intent of the artist is what matters, and it usually shows up in the art. It is a common conclusion in the study of literature that the intent has nothing to do with the art. Neither does the artist. Once the art is created, it is independent of both. The artist can say what he or she wants to do, but the author is just one of the readers once the text is published. Well, it's a little more complicated than that, so look it up if you are not familiar with the death of the author.

Let me take an example from my own life. I once wrote a poem. I knew what I wanted to say. I showed it to a friend of mine, and she had a totally different take on it. I realised that I had set out with one intention but ended up saying something else. So what was the meaning of the poem? What I wanted to say or what I ended up saying? I don't think my intention had anything to do with the meaning. It lived an independent life, and I honestly think my friend understood it better than I did.

And then some artists say that they never meant to be racists or homophobes and so on and have maybe never shown such intentions in their lives, but end up making art that is very much that. Should we take their words for it? And if we agree that their art is problematic, could it not be because they accidentally and thoughtlessly said something they did not mean?

I often disagree with artists on their take on their art, and it is my right to do so. Their life and views may be reflected in the art, but it does not have to be. And even if it is, so what? We find such views in daily life also.

And then there's the question of what is depraved. How to define it. According to Daisy Dixon, it is everything feminists find problematic, and when the wrong people make art with good intentions, like if a black man makes art to defend black women. He should not do that because he is a man. I honestly thought we were moving away from this nonsense. Art belongs to everyone, and everyone has the right to say what they want. If you don't think so, then don't buy the art.

She even mentions cultural appropriation, a horse that has been whipped so often that I thought there was nothing left. All art is appropriation. That's how it grows and gets richer. Why should we stop now?

This book is not bold or fresh. It's mostly leftovers of very tired arguments.

[AmandaMayMina · Rating 4 out of 5]

DEPRAVED: THE STORY OF DANGEROUS ART by Daisy Dixon (Viking, out August 11, 2026) is philosopher Daisy Dixon's deep dive into art that society has branded obscene, dangerous, or immoral, ranging from prehistoric carvings to extreme metal and beyond. If you liked Claire Dederer's Monsters, this is the sharper, more rigorously argued cousin: less about separating art from artist, more about building a framework for judging the art itself.

WHAT WORKED FOR ME
Dixon's central structure is the real achievement here. She organizes the book around seven "pillars" for evaluating depraved art: obscenity, criminality, oppression, malevolence, cruelty, iconoclasm, and reparation. It's a genuinely useful lens, not just an academic conceit, and I found myself applying it to art and media outside the book long after I finished. Her allusion to the Hydra and the many heads as a metaphor for morality's tangled nature in relation to depraved art was particularly memorable for me. It captures exactly why this subject resists tidy conclusions.

The sheer range kept me engaged. Dixon moves from Sade to Cardi B without ever feeling like she's padding the page count, and the philosophy stays accessible rather than dense.

WHAT DIDN'T WORK FOR ME
My one real hesitation is personal rather than a flaw in the writing: some passages describing performance art involving animals were more graphic than I wanted, even in service of the argument. That's a taste issue more than a critique of Dixon's craft, but sensitive readers should know it's there. I'll note this isn't about the book's handling of sexual content, which I thought was measured.

**WHO SHOULD READ THIS
This is the right book for art history buffs, readers interested in philosophy and ethics, and anyone who devoured Monsters and wanted a more structured follow-up. If you want a plot-driven or purely narrative reading experience, this isn't that. It's a book that rewards readers who like being asked hard questions.

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 4/5 stars

Dixon has written something that earns its "timely and punchy" reputation. It challenged me, it stuck with me, and the seven pillars alone make it worth the read.

Thank you to Viking Penguin and NetGalley for the advance copy in exchange for my honest review.

[Rebecca Elson · Rating 5 out of 5]

This review originally appeared on The Magical Buffet website on 06/24/2026.

What makes art, art? What makes art objectionable? If considered obscene, is it still art? And what of the artists? Are they still artists if the public regards their work as without merit? There is a whole lot to examine when delving into the world of controversial art, and Daisy Dixon takes it head on in her book “Depraved: The Story of Dangerous Art.”

Dixon is a prize-winning philosopher with a PhD from the University of Cambridge. She specializes in the philosophy of art – particularly immoral and dangerous art that entrenches structural injustice. To this end, “Depraved” does an excellent job of breaking down what can make art problematic by introducing us to “The Hydra.” According to Dixon, “Art can be depraved in five ways. First, many artworks explicitly show immoral states of affairs such as gratuitous violence or obscene scenarios. Second, an artwork may somehow cause a person to do something terrible. Third, an artwork may express dangerous messages in how it invites us to think and feel about something. Fourth, sometimes works of art are created by immoral artists. Lastly, the way an artwork has been created may be morally suspect.”

The Hydra analogy works magnificently as Dixon addresses each of its heads with intelligence and nuance. “Depraved”, and its Hydra, explore music, literature, video games, art, and even a bit of film. Within its pages you’ll find thoughtful discussion of Marquis de Sade, Brett Bailey’s “Exhibit B”, drill music, Pablo Picasso, Leni Riefenstahl’s “Triumph of the Will”, Norwegian black metal band Venom, the video game “Custer’s Revenge”, Paul Gauguin, Cardi B’ “WAP”, Damien Hirst’s “The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living”, Adolph Hitler, and much, much more.

To call “Depraved: The Story of Dangerous Art” by Daisy Dixon thought provoking is an understatement. This book challenged me to look at artists, and their art, in whole new ways. I find myself litigating and relitigating my thoughts and feelings about art. Dixon’s work stays with you in the best way possible.

“Depraved” is scheduled for an August release.

[houk · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dixon's Depraved takes on a question I'd consider pervasive to our current sociopolitical moment: what do we do with obscene, hateful, and/or morally repugnant art? As a fan of an ethical dilemma and moral quandary, I have asked myself this very question many a time. How must we ethically approach a beloved work of art in the face of an increasingly morally conscious society? Dixon structures her argument, that potentially harmful and depraved art created by harmful or depraved artists must be faced head-on and transformed, around a quite striking analogy: that of a Hydra.

She writes of how artworks may be classified as obscene, oppressive, malevolent, and cruel, with a final examination of iconoclasm and reparation. Self-described as more of a philosopher than an art historian, Dixon takes us through these forms various depraved art can take, and how we may distinguish works that challenge their audience from those that harm them.

While I don't necessarily agree with every claim made here, I do respect and appreciate the depth of discussion and wide array of examples displayed. Dixon explores many avenues of art, including but not limited to performance, installation, painting, literature, music, and video games. I'd recommend this book to anyone interested in an approach to managing the complex feelings that arise when a beloved artist comes under rightful fire for harmful behavior and/or thought, or anyone generally curious about art and its many forms. Many thanks to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for access to the ARC!

[Heather Parish · Rating 5 out of 5]

Publishes August 11 from Penguin Random House.

Partly an introduction to some of history’s more insidious artworks and artists, but mostly a guidebook to the elements of what may—or may not—be depraved art.

Dixon guides the reader through a framework she proposes to engage with and evaluate art, artists, and their impact, including obscenity, criminality, oppression, malevolence, cruelty, iconoclasm and reparation. What makes one work “challenging” and another work “disgusting?” And how do we decide what to do about it?

Each section is thoughtfully presented with examples and thought experiments to inspire the readers’ own thinking and continues with a discussion on the questions brought up by those examples. Dixon also does an admirable job of addressing the counterpoint to her own views. The writing is clear, the voice is accessible to university students, arts aficionados, and adult readers curious about art and its cultural and political difficulties.

I particularly recommend this to those looking to create their own clear framework on what basis to evaluate art, problematic artists, and to decide how they can respond. They may not agree with all of her takeaways, but her examples provide some clear questions anyone can ask in the process.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for the PDF ARC in exchange for an honest review.

[Dez Roberts · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was surprised by just how much Depraved covers. I expected paintings and sculpture, but Daisy Dixon explores everything from music and literature to video games, pornography and performance art.

I loved the hydra analogy at the heart of the book: when art is considered "depraved", what exactly are we condemning? The artist, the artwork, the message, or something else entirely?

Some of my favourite sections explored feminism, racism and who gets to shape cultural narratives. I particularly enjoyed the discussions around racist art being challenged and reinterpreted rather than simply ignored or quietly removed from the foreground.

I also enjoyed discovering artworks and artists I had never encountered before, especially the performance pieces. Some were fascinating, some were genuinely upsetting, particularly those involving animal cruelty, but they certainly gave me plenty to think about.

What stayed with me most is Dixon's argument that difficult art should not be hidden away. Instead, we should engage with it, question it, challenge it and understand the context in which it was created.

[fang · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you to Netgalley for an advanced copy of this book!

This book was an absolute master class in nonfiction writing. Daisy Dixon has delivered a well researched and well crafted book on how art can change us but also be weaponized against us. Throughout this book you’re confronted with honestly some fairly disgusting stuff, just deplorable. However she walks you through how this art has not only shaped society but also the people who consume it and create it. I really appreciated the amount of objectivity she displayed in this book even when the topics went well beyond the average persons comfort zone. There was a good blend of examples taken from modern times as well as ancient. I really enjoyed the thorough explanations she offered and her ability to walk through the material. I thought this book was absolutely wonderful and if you can stomach some extremely and heavily dark topics I think this is a book everyone should try. It’s a real eye opener and likely will get more relevant as the years go on. It was definitely interesting to read during some current conversations happening online.

[Tiffany Sutton]

I normally review only books whose authors - or the books themselves - I find significantly relatable. I do agree with all or nearly all of what is said in this book. Dixon talks the talk of the progressive academic, and her writing is of a quality that can appeal to both academics and a wider audience, which is something academia needs more of, not less. From what I can see, there should be no squabbles about plagiarism or any use of AI, and Dixon successfully knits together discussions touching on disparate, independent topics in philosophical aesthetics - from the causal impact of “fictions” on social reality to an argument that speech constituting hate speech should be limited rather than banned or burned - to unify her own topic. She writes, “Censorship today is the suppression or prohibition of communication or expression which is similarly considered objectionable to the common good” (p. 203) while acknowledging that “our cultural products prop up systems of oppression and constitute one of the many societal barriers…especially masterpieces that have stood the test of time” (p. 103). Must it be conceded that standing the test of time does not make a norm or practice right - or a masterpiece canonical - especially when, like hate speech, it “amounts to an act of subordination…sustaining hierarchies, legitimating oppression, assaulting the dignity of those targeted by it,” or sustaining in-groups (p. 208)? Since Dixon's book does not offer deep and technically sustained arguments for or against ethical or aesthetic evaluative objectivity, the reader must look elsewhere for such arguments. But the question itself is raised and has currency.

What I find most relatable about Dixon professionally is how difficult she finds it to be a woman in a position of (academic) leadership. You don’t want to “get on someone’s nerves,” but you know that you, too, have a right to exist - to self-develop, to be yourself, to speak publicly or publish, and to earn revenue and recognition from your published work when it is read and it is valued.

[batya · Rating 5 out of 5]

I like art, but I cannot call myself a connoisseur of art or even generally knowledgeable on it. I knew some of the art pieces referenced though I had to look up most. But I've always been a fan of thought and I think the thoughts provoked by Dixon's Depraved: The Story of Dangerous Art is valuable. Some are uncomfortable, but it's like the quote of Banksy that keeps circulating the internet as of late, "Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable." Censorship is tricky. How do we decide what is and is not okay to be seen by the public? This is not a self-help book. It does not tell you what conclusions to make. But it is a new aspect, for me personally, to think about the next time a piece of media is sensationalized. Morals change. Different people view different things. To what extent does the media we consume influence our decisions? Who knows. But the questions raised are fascinating and the angles of both contemporary video games and art works with historical and cultural significance are, in my opinion, invaluable to this conversation.

[Ben Lucas · Rating 2 out of 5]

Starts with a bold claim that there exists an objective morality and that there are indeed works of art that can and should be considered morally depraved. Many have made this claim in the past, and this tired type of moralizing should be met with some suspicion.

The first chapter’s recommendation to investigate what an artwork invites its viewer to think, feel, or do in response to the art is a great tool to investigate whether or not a work incites immorality. This is my big take away from the book. I also found the comparison between an ancient Sumerian erotic poem and Cardi B’s WAP amusing. This first chapter is where the book shines.

Unfortunately, as other reviewers have mentioned, the author does too much thinking on behalf of the reader and it becomes clear that her so called objective morality is really her own subjective interpretation. Much of her conclusions I agree with but there exists differences of opinion. The condemnation of some artistic material and a gloved-hand treatment of other media undermines the authors central argument in my estimation.

[Zoe Lipman · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.75/5

PLEASE read this instead of Claire Dederer's Monsters!

I really liked that this is from the perspective of a philosopher, I think that made such a big difference in this conversation. This was more about the impact of art and the artist than the popularization of it. And I think that's where the artsy people get it wrong (just because a piece is famous or looks nice, doesn't erase the harm behind it).

This discusses the unsavory sides of art, artists, and how these pieces are interpreted.

This shows how we can't and shouldn't separate the art from the artists.

I do wish it had some pictures of the art it was referencing, but that's a personal reading experience thing. I like to see what we're talking about.

Thanks to NetGalley for the e-ARC of this book in exchange for my honest review!

[Kathryn · Rating 5 out of 5]

There are a lot of books out there examining how art fits into society, but none examine the role of depraved, problematic, and controversial art to the extent that this one does. Dixon dives deep into analyzing so many centuries' worth of varying forms of problematic art, from pre-historic artifacts, to music, film, video games, etc. She leads with scholarly philosophical insight, giving the reader the tools needed to fairly decide for themselves where they stand on each controversy (and giving them the language they may need to defend their stance, should they need it). The perfect mix between academic insight and captivating prose, this will be my go-to gift for everyone in my life who loves reading about art, cultural philosophy, and social criticism.  

[Tori Thompson]

DNF'ed at 30%. Maybe I'll get back to this at some point, but I was hoping it would be more of an examination of particular works of art that have been culturally maligned as immoral or offensive. Instead, this was mostly a discussion of the morality and ethics of making, distributing, and consuming (or at least observing) obscene art. Not the author's fault, but that's just not a discussion I'm interested in participating in. I'm an apostatic seminary dropout who's been active on tumblr since 2009--I've done my time, thank you very much. Sin isn't real, porn isn't evil, paintings can't hurt you, and I don't need a 9 hour long audiobook hemming and hawing about thoughtcrime to teach me this. But many people still do, so I'm glad this exists for their sake.

[Jas · Rating 4 out of 5]

It’s hard to realize that something you have loved for a long time may have a problematic history, one that is often not discussed enough. This book validated many of the uncomfortable feelings I have had about the aggression present in certain forms of art and why I choose not to engage with many of them.

Whether it is music, books, magazines, paintings, movies, or even social media, I have often kept my distance. But choosing not to engage does not mean we should avoid questioning, investigating, and learning. Sometimes, understanding the history behind the things we consume is necessary, even when that knowledge makes us uncomfortable.

Thank you, Viking Penguin, for providing me with this ARC through NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.

[Lorena Maria · Rating 4 out of 5]

Daisy Dixon’s Depraved is on all accounts a fascinating and sustaining read that prompts much thought regarding obscenity in the arts. It goes beyond traditional art and pulls the reader into regarding mediums such as video games in such a fashion that neither feels overly convoluted or exceedingly basic. There is a wonderful equilibrium, and it felt as though I spent an extra semester in an undergraduate philosophy class. It would be very interesting to read an amendment to this book regarding the place of generative AI and how it permeates the discussion of art and obscenity.


Thank you to Viking Penguin and NetGalley for this ARC!

[Susan Holmes-Sherwood · Rating 4 out of 5]

In a thought-provoking, thorough and sometimes humorous fashion, Dixon explores the theme of depraved art and what we should do with it.

I think we all have an artist on our wall, bookshelf or streaming service (musical, TV etc) that we feel a bit guilty for loving because we found the creator was, at best, a dick. This gives you the framework of what and how you might consider it and what it teaches it, as well as how to address it.

And I love Dixon’s solution. As my Octogenarian mother said as Colston’s graffitied statue went in the drink, “throw some more in!”. That’s a crude example of Dixon’s conclusion, but it appeals to the creator and the chaos-lover in me.

[Amanda W · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think the premise of Depraved is a good one, but unfortunately the book itself is kind of too broad and far-reaching to really keep my interest. If both the author’s definition of depravity as well as what she chose to cover in the book itself were a bit more focused, I think this could have been a really concise and pointed book on the nature of the obscene or offensive in art and how to look at it. Instead, the definitions of ‘artwork’ and “depravity” are played with a little too fast and loose for a good portion of the book, so that when the author chooses to focus on offensive hate speech and counter-narratives at the end of the book, I was left wondering about all the other forms of depraved artwork she had discussed earlier. I also couldn’t help feeling like this book is already dated due to the use of some very 2020-2022 words and concepts.

There are some great points about the progression towards artworks being seen as immoral going hand in hand with more conservative/religious ideas about who should be considered ‘civilized,’ as well as the fact that what is considered depraved tends to hinge an awful lot on the bodies of marginalized people. I really enjoyed some portions (such as the chapter with Gauguin and Picasso), and disliked others. I just wish it wasn’t so disjointed. 3.75 stars out of 5.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for my honest review!

[Hannah Hamlin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Whether you already have a passion for art history or you’re interested in learning more, Depraved is an essential perspective on how we critique and understand visual medium. Every page of this book is steeped with piping hot tea and analyzed through an academic angle. It’s as shocking as it is unsurprising how many men get away with asinine, Epstein-like-behavior and are still celebrated in books and museums without mention of their sins. I plan to dive deeper into art history as a sub-genre and look forward to reading more from Daisy Dixon!

[Corey Colley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thanks for NetGalley for providing me this book.

I feel like this book did a great job really making me think about how we view certain art. It really made me question, but also look at art history in a different way I really loved that there was so many examples used by Daisy to help with the points she was making in the novel. This helped me as a reader really understand and appreciate how much work went into this book. It read very well and there was a clear flow to the book that made all her points stand out and really sit with a reader.

[Kimberly · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don’t know anything about ART other than that it can look pretty sometimes, but I loved this book. It is so well-written and accessible to those of us who may not be super art-literate. This book is a reminder that art is always political and a reflection of society.

Thank you to netgalley and the publisher for the ARC.

[Amy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Overall lots of interesting nuggets but I found some examples hard to stomach (depraved, get in the bin) and others absolutely fine (not depraved, get in the gallery) I guess this is maybe the point and I liked Dixon’s ideas about creative curation as a way to not bury but face realities of immoral artists/themes. (3.5)

[Al No · Rating 5 out of 5]

“The power of our speech is almost magical.”

Refreshing, rational, and vocabulary-enhancing.

(Not convinced that the series of books about the boy wizard count as “masterpieces which stand the test of time” though.)

[Kexx · Rating 3 out of 5]

Was interested for the first couple of chapters, obscenity and criminality, but found the dryness began to grate and I skip read paragraphs and, eventually, pages. Too close to Monsters by Claire Dederer to be original.

[Nick · Rating 4 out of 5]

I find it hard to believe that any artist would somehow be depraved, but here we are. The more you know!

[Megan · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5🌟

[Ravenshadow · Rating 4 out of 5]

The story pulled me in.